07. CHAPTER I
LIFE A PILGRIMAGE THROUGH A STATE OF SPIRITUAL CONFLICTS 'THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS' A GUIDE TO ALL HEAVENWOOD PILGRIMS—THE AUTHOR FURNISHED WITH LEISURE TIME TO WRITE IT, BY BEING SHUT UP IN PRISON FOR A CLOSING TO VIOLATE HIS CONSCIENCE.
'Art thou for something rare and profitable?
Wonder thou see a little wham a little?
Art thou forgetful? Wonderst thou remember
From New Year's Day to the Last December?
Then read my fancies, they will stick like burs.'
Burying the beginning of life.
THE pilgrimage of life is a deeply interesting subject, coextensive with human nature; every individual of our race is upon pilgrimage, from the cradle to the grave. It is the progress of the soul through time to enter upon a boundless eternity, beset on all sides, at every avenue, and at every moment, with spiritual foes of the deepest nobility, journeying from the commencement to the close of the course through an enemy's country, uncertain of the term of existence, certain only that it must terminate and usher us into an eternal state, either of exquisite happiness, or awful misery. How natural that every man's life should be called by its proper name—a pilgrimage.
The patriarch felt this when he bowed before Pharaoh, and said, 'The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years; few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.' G. 2nd. 9. David sang the statutes of the Lord in the house of his pilgrimage. P. 2nd. 4. And after the lapse of ages, when the Volume of Inspiration was about to close, the Holy Spirit continued the simile in the apostolic epistles, 'and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.' B. 1st. 1. As such we are exhorted, 'I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts.' 1 Pet. 11. 'See thou that ye walk circumspectly.' 1 Pet. 12. 'So run, that ye may obtain.' 1 G. 2d. 21. These are instructions that reach the heart of every Christian convert throughout the world; all are warned of the necessity of sobriety and vigilant watchfulness, 'because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.' 1 Pet. 3. 'He shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.' R. 6. 10.
All mankind are pilgrims; all are pressing through this world: the Christian willingly considers that his life is a journey, because he is seeking a better country; but the greater multitude are anxious to prevent the recollection, that time is a preparation for eternity, and, in consequence of this neglect, they shudder when approaching the brink of the grave, into which they are irresistibly plunged. Although perpetual examples warn them that suddenly, at a moment when they least expect the fatal catastrophe, it may befall them, still, as if infatuated, they make no inquiry of the Holy
Oracles as to how they can escape the second death; but take the miserable counsel of some 'worldly-wise man,' and seek a refuge in lies, which death will terribly sweep away; or they wholly neglect any preparation for so important and certain, if not sudden, an event. All are on the advance; time hurries on those whose pilgrimage is limited to the foul, but fascinating streets of the 'city of destruction,' to their eternal doom; while those whose anxious cries lead them to the Christian calling, press on in the narrow and difficult path that leads to the heavenly Jerusalem.
To condense the instructions given to the pilgrim in the Inspired Writings into a map of the road, a guide or hand-book to the celestial city, a help to Zion's travellers, and a faithful warning to the votaries who crowd the broad road to ruin, was a labour of love for its vast importance, worthy of the highest powers of human intellect, the warmest Christian philanthropy. It is surprising that a work which so naturally suggests itself to the imagination, and which is of such universal interest, was delayed so long. The abstruse dreams of Jewish rabbies, the splendid figures and scenery that floated before the minds of Oriental and Greek sages, and the intense subtlety of the schoolmen of the Middle Ages, were intended for a very limited class, excluding all but those who were their immediate disciples; and all their instructions having a direct tendency to lead them from the highway of happiness, to wander in the mazes of a senseless sophistry, or, to use the apostle's words, 'spoil them through philosophy and vain deceit.' It was a work that could only be prepared by an expanded soul, above all sectarian bias, by one who could, with unbounded charity, embrace all nations, all tongues, and every people, as brethren in the vast dominions of his God; by one who felt that human happiness would not be perfect until this universe became the kingdom of his Christ. Such a hallowed and sanctified mind alone could furnish his fellow-sinners with an epitome of the way to the celestial city, equally acceptable to Christians of all denominations.
To write for the instruction of the whole family of man, is not the province of a bigoted sectarian, whose visions of happiness extend no further than to embrace his own immediate disciples. Had ancient sages, or more modern schoolmen, felt their brotherhood to the whole human race, knowing that every individual, of all sects or parties, is fulfilling his pilgrimage through the short space of time allotted to fit him for an unbounded eternity, surely some of the great and illustrious philosophers of bygone ages would have attempted to complete an allegory, the outline of which had been given in the earliest of records—the Holy Oracles. No trace, however, has as yet been found in Hebrew,
Oriental, Greek, or Latin literature, of such an attempt. The honour of producing this extraordinary work, in a surprising degree of perfection, was reserved to a later age, and was conferred upon an Englishman; a man, as to human learning, unlettered, but deeply learned in the school of Christ, and profoundly skilled in all the subtleties of the human heart; upon a man connected with a denomination eminent for love of Christian liberty, and for hazardous, but resolute obedience and conformity to every institute which they found in the New Testament; and therefore everywhere spoken against, and bitterly persecuted.
This important work was destined to be accomplished by a preaching mechanic, not vainly or falsely claiming, but really possessing the true evidence of apostolic descent in spirit and in truth, as his works and afflictions fully proved; to a man, while suffering under the tyranny of Antichrist, whose judges and officers shut him up to languish in a noisome prison for twelve years and a half of the prime of his life; thus vainly attempting to bend his free, his heaven-born spirit, to submit, or pretend to submit, to what he considered to be popish and unchristian forms and ceremonies, and to compel him to conform to the church established by law; having at its head, at that time, the most debauched monarch in Europe.
He was apprehended while conducting the public worship of God, and sent to prison in Bedford jail. The indictment preferred against him was, 'That John Bunyan, of the town of Bedford, labourer, hath devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming to church to hear Divine service, and is a common upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great disturbance and distraction of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to the laws of our sovereign lord the King.' To which he pleaded, 'We have had many meetings together, both to pray to God, and to exhort one another; and that we had the sweet comforting presence of the Lord among us for our encouragement; blessed be his name therefor! I confess myself guilty no otherwise.' No witnesses were examined, but a plea of guilty was recorded; and his sentence was, 'You must be had back again to prison, and lie there for three months following; and, at the three months' end, if you do not submit, and go to church to hear Divine service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the realm; and if, after such a day as shall be appointed you to be gone, you shall be found in this realm, you must stretch by the neck for it, I tell you plainly; and so he [the justice] bid the jailer have him away.'
This was soon after the restoration of Charles II.,
1 Bunyan's own account of his imprisonment, vol. i. pp. 56, 57.
when a persecuting hierarchy having been re-instated in power, revived obsolete and tyrannical laws. The mechanic, or fisherman, shall not preach or teach, was the sullen, stern voice of despotic authority. But, at the immaculate risk of transportation, and even of death, the pious and highly-talented mechanic, John Bunyan, persevered in instructing the peasantry who came within the reach of his voice. He was for this, and for not attending his parish church, seized and sent to Bedford jail; and, by the overruling power of his God, the means that were thus used to prevent his voice from being heard by a few poor labourers, opened to this persecuted disciple of Christ the path to honour, as well as to lasting and most extensive usefulness.
Dragged from the arms of his affectionate wife, who was brought to death's door by painful apprehensions that his life would be sacrificed; bereaved of the company of his children, and of personal communion with the little flock of Christ to which he ministered, this holiest, most harmless, and useful of men was incarcerated in a jail, with felons and the most degraded characters. But 'surely the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder of wrath shall thou restrain,' O Lord. Ps 1154.16. Here he finds a resting place, with leisure time to write his far-famed allegory; here, having commended his bereaved wife and infant family to the protection of the King of kings, even in that DEN, with a conscience void of offence, and full of spiritual peace, he tranquilly reposed, waiting with resignation the will of his heavenly Father. How strange a dwelling for one so highly honoured of God! how unearthly a mode of fitting him for his glorious destination, to shine as a star in the heavenly firmament, and to occupy a mansion in glory! He who thinks that happiness, or holiness, or true honour, is to be measured by temporal grandeur, makes a false estimate, and knows little of the ways of God.
'These wals and bars caused a prison make,
The freeborn soul enjoys its liberty,
These clods of earth it may incaptivate,
Whilst heavenly minds are conversant on high,
Ranging the fields of blessed eternity.'
The poor persecuted Christian was free from that mental wretchedness which cankered the souls of his persecutors; one of these, named Feckenham, whose violent conduct will be presently seen, died miserably while Bunyan was in prison; and the Christian inhabitants of Bedford trembled under the thought, that his wretched end was one of the just judgments of God upon persecutors. We must be, however, very careful in such conclusions. Every solemn event, in Divine providence, is not to be considered a judgment upon those who have offended God. Thus, when Charles H. said to Milton, 'Your loss of sight is a judgment of God upon you for your sins committed against my father;' the intrepid poet dared to answer, 'Does your Majesty judge so? then how much greater must have been the sins of your royal father, seeing that I have only lost my sight, while he lost his eyes, and head, and all?'
Notwithstanding that Bunyan fully anticipated an ignominious death, his days were spent as happily as the prison discipline would permit. Working to provide for his family—studying his Bible—instructing his fellow-prisoners—and writing on the most important subjects—must have fully occupied every moment of his time. And it was HERE, in this DEN, that his vivid imagination conceived, and his pen wrote this wondrous Pilgrimage, under the similitude of a dream. And when it was published to the world, he by it preached, and is now preaching, not merely to a few villagers in the neighbourhood of Bedford, but is making known the glad tidings of salvation, the way of escape from the city of destruction, the pilgrim's path to heaven, to millions of every clime.
Thus do the emissaries of Satan ever overreach themselves. So it was when the Bishop of London paid a large price for a few score of English New Testaments, to burn them. The money that Tyndale received from Tonstall enabled him to publish a new and superior edition, corrected in the translation, and which was extensively circulated. Some of these remain to this day, a monument to the faithfulness, the piety, and the talent of the translator, and to the folly of persecution. It led Tyndale to sing—
'The devious mops did strive to have
For the Holy Book a burning grave,
But all their travail was in vain,
God multiplied it quick again.
The pope and devil are scared and wondered,
Their gold burns one, but makes a hundred.'
The world would probably have heard but little of John Bunyan—he might, with thousands of similar valuable characters, have remained comparatively unknown—had not the natural enemy of the human heart to the simple, but Divine truths
1 From a poem by Stephen Colledge, a preaching mechanic, written a few days before he suffered death, August 1681.
2 He was called, in Bedford, the grand informer. Such were the indignant feelings of his neighbours, that his widow was unable to hire a hearse, but took his body in a cart to the grave. See Narrative of Proceedings against the Nonconformists at Bedford, 4th, 1670, in the Editor's possession.
3 A fine perfect copy is in the Editor's library.
4 On an ancient painting of Tyndale, the martyr, in possession of the Editor. Under an emblemistical device, on one side of the portrait, is the poetical description. The representation is of a book tied to a stake, burning, while a number of similar books are flying out of the fire.
of Christianity, excited wicked men to acts of persecution. Crafty and designing priests, under the pretence of the sole cure of souls, engrossed the patronage of the state, enjoyed exalted dignities among their fellow-men, and appropriated to themselves immense wealth. To preserve this worldly eminence, they sought to stay the onward improvement of the human mind, and the progress of Divine truth. To effect this object, they resorted to an old plan which had been often tried, and had as often eminently failed. It was the obsolete system of tyranny similar to that which cast the three Hebrew youths into the fiery furnace, Daniel into the den of lions, and had martyred thousands of God's saints—a system opposed not only to reason and common sense, but to the operations of God in nature. It was to compel uniformity in modes of worship, and matters of faith; to bind the spirit in fetters, and to prevent those personal inquiries into religion which are so strictly enjoined in the Word of God. The mode of a sinner's access and approach to the throne of Divine grace, was limited to the same dull round of forms and ceremonies under all circumstances; in fine, it demanded the entire prostration of the immortal mind before the claim of priestcraft to infallibility. Such a system required the support of violence and tyranny. Therefore it was enacted by law, that all should constantly attend the parish church, and go through the prescribed service, upon pain of fine, imprisonment, transportation, or death. If any benevolent person, not connected with the sect of religion taken into partnership with the state, was detected in visiting and praying with the sick, teaching the ignorant the way to heaven, comforting the distressed conscience, or converting sinners to holiness, he was doomed to imprisonment, that such useful labours might be stopped.
By this time, the Bible, which for ages had been concealed, was widely circulated among the people; education had spread abroad the means of examining those sacred pages; while a holy ministry, under the Commonwealth, had extensively sown the seeds of life. Many felt the powers of the world to come; hundreds of thousands had been taught the Assembly's Catechism, and had sanctioned the Confession of Faith; while upwards of twenty thousand had become united in Baptist churches. Multitudes of godly men and women, of all denominations, were proving the sincerity and truth of their Christian profession by their harmless, benevolent, and pious conduct. The death of Oliver Cromwell let loose those ambitious and licentious spirits, which had been for some years kept under severe restraint. It opened the way for the restoration of the old system of extravagance, tyranny, and iniquity. Like streams long pent up, they now rolled on with resistless violence, filling their course with the tears of the virtuous, and the oaths of the profane.
The Puritans, by their simple habits of life, had secured many comforts, which excited the thirst of plunder, and the enemies of Divine truth entered with alacrity upon the work of wholesale persecution and spoliation. Among the first of those upon whom the hand of tyranny fell, was John Bunyan, a man who had determined, at all costs, to maintain his integrity. With the most inflexible devotion to his Saviour, he preferred death to hypocrisy, and would submit to no compromise with the enemies of his soul's happiness and salvation. In the face of most imminent danger, he dared not pretend to believe that the priest could, by any ceremony, convert an infant into a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven; or that one poor feeble, sinful man had power to forgive the sins of his fellow-transgressor. He dared not conform to ceremonies which were not commanded in Holy Writ. He could not unite with a system which, in his conscience, he believed to be directly and essentially opposed to Christianity; inasmuch as it prevented free inquiry, and usurped the throne of God, in wickedly attempting, by coercive laws, to regulate or direct the mode in which the soul shall publicly worship the God of salvation. Bunyan refused obedience to laws that interfered with the sacred rights of conscience. His free immortal spirit was not to be confined by articles, creeds, and confessions made by fallible mortals. He persevered in his pious benevolent course, and the tyrants immured him in a prison. Here his God most eminently honoured and blessed him, and, by his providence and grace, consecrated him to be a guide and companion to Christian pilgrims of every country, and every age, while on their way from the city of destruction to their celestial and eternal habitation in glory.
CHAPTER II.
THE 'PILGRIM'S PROGRESS' WRITTEN IN PRISON—DIFFICULTIES THROWN IN THE WAY OF ITS PUBLICATION.
The most important events have arisen out of circumstances very different to what reason could have expected. The great Lawgiver of Israel was a poor foundling. The Redeemer of the world was born in a stable. The sublime Revelations of John were written by an exile in a penal settlement. The universal guide to Christian pilgrims was the unaided work of an unlettered mechanic, while a prisoner for conscience sake. So unsearchable are the ways of God:
*Behind a frowning providence
'Out of the enter came forth meat,' Jo six 11. 'The wrath of man shall praise thee,' O God! How wretched is the state of those persecutors who, like Satan, are found fighting against the Almighty? To prevent the pious and talented John Bunyan from doing good, state religion shut him up in a noisome jail; and how remarkably was it overruled for the attainment of the very object they intended to prevent! What fearful odds—the power of the state, priests and justices, armed with Acts of Parliament, to compel uniformity in faith and practice, are linked together to crush a poor tinker: he preaches the glad tidings of salvation to a few poor trembling sinners; they are converted; from being pests to society, they become valuable and useful citizens; it is effected in a barn—the pomp and ceremonies and vestments used in a consecrated building are set at nought. The kingdom of Christ increased, with all its blessed effects, without the aid of a learned education. God must be prevented from thus going with, and blessing his devoted and humble servant, in a way so contrary to Acts of Parliament and human pride; the justices meet—they warn their destined prey, and endeavour to cajole him into obedience and spiritual slavery; he saw their hostile array, he knew their extensive powers—to imprison, transport, put to an ignominious death. What could a poor tinker do under such alarming circumstances? He had a refuge and a friend that they saw not, knew not. He took counsel with his God, and, while in the path of duty, felt that he had a wall of fire round about him, that all things must work together for good. He went calmly on his way. The warrant was issued by Justice Wingate, a name known only for this deed of iniquity. It was the first attempt in that county at persecution. The place at which the meeting was held is called Sam-sell. He was warned by the enemies of truth, in the hopes that he would fly, and that they might triumph. The posse comitatus was raised, and the liers-in-wait 'kept a very strong watch about the house,' his timid friends begged of him to fly; he walked into a close, to hold communion with his God; he went into the meeting with his spiritual strength renewed. When requested by his poor friends, who were alarmed for his safety, not to hold the meeting, he said, 'I will not stir, neither will I have the meeting dismissed for this. Come, be of good cheer, let us not be damned; our cause is good, we need not be ashamed of it.' He commenced the service with prayer, during which he was not interrupted. He named his text: 'Dost thou believe on the Son of God?' Ja ix 25; intending to show the absolute need of faith in Jesus Christ, and that it was also a thing of the highest concern for men to inquire into, and to ask their own hearts whether they had it or no. But before he could enter upon this important inquiry, the constable approached, produced his warrant, and put his hand upon his person. Bunyan looked at him; the man turned pale, withdrew his hand, and trembled; it was the first victim that he had arrested under those wicked laws. After a few words of counsel and encouragement to the people, he surrendered himself to the officer; and upon his refusal to leave off preaching, the justice committed him to Bedford jail, where he lay, under a cruel sentence, for nearly thirteen years.
We may easily imagine the alarm and misery felt by his affectionate wife and his four children, one of whom was blind, and the whole community of dissenters in that part of the country. Anti-christ appeared to triumph. It is very probable that his fellow-worshippers would humble themselves before God, and, with broken hearts, inquire what peculiar crimes they had been guilty of to call forth this severe chastisement. They might call to remembrance the language of David, 'Thy judgments are a great deep;' and be comforted with his following words, 'O Lord, thou preservest man.' Who could have imagined that the jail was to be his study, his Bethel, and the means of his preaching to millions of his fellow-sinuers, in all ages and languages! 'O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!'
In possession of a strong bodily frame, and of that robust health which arises from incessant activity in the open air; travelling about the country to obtain means of support to his family by his labours, and exerting himself on the day of rest by proclaiming in the villages the glad tidings of salvation; from a state of incessant activity, he was suddenly incarcerated in a jail, situated on a bridge, and over the centre of the river; the small damp dens being on a level with the water. Had he been sent there for crime, it might have rapidly affected his health and spirits; but he was called to suffer, that the cause of truth might be honoured, and the God of truth was with him to preserve his health, and to comfort and support his mind with those supplies of happiness to which the world is a stranger, and which it can neither give nor take away.
1 See Preface to his 'Confession of Faith,' vol. ii. p. 593.
2 The link of this text, thus, has been a fact that the most different mass-decim of God, king of the Men, was one of the 18 strands murderers and robbers of his time, and when the latter's family, in their hands, was, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way, in the same way.
At the assizes, a plea of guilty was recorded; and although numerous prisoners, charged with crimes, were liberated at the coronation of Charles II., his case did not come within the proclamation, and he appeared to be doomed to hopeless imprisonment or to an untimely end. Happily, the regulations of the jail allowed him the use of his Bible and Fox's Book of Martyrs, and of the materials for writing. His time was beguiled with tagging laces to provide for his poor family; in praying with and exhorting his fellow-prisoners, and in the composing of books, which were extensively published, for the instruction of the world. He soon became, like Joseph in Pharaoh's prison, a favourite with the jailer, who was at times severely threatened for the privileges he allowed this prisoner for Christ. Among the books that he wrote in prison, we shall find that the most prominent and important one was the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' Charles Doe, who was a personal friend of Mr. Bunyan's, and who called him 'an apostle of our age, if we have any,' thus narrates the fact in his Struggler for the Preservation of Mr. John Bunyan's Labour: 'In the year 1660 (being the year King Charles returned to England), having preached about five years, the rage of gospel enemies was so great, that, November 12th, they took him prisoner, at a meeting of good people, and put him in Bedford jail; and there he continued about six years, and then was let out again, 1666. Being the year of the burning of London, and a little after his release, they took him again, at a meeting, and put him in the same jail, where he lay six years more. And after he was released again, they took him again, and put him in prison the third time; but that proved but for about half a year. Whilst he was thus twelve years and a half in prison, he wrote several of his published books, as by many of their epistles appears: as 'Pray by the Spirit,' 'Holy City,' 'Resurrection,' 'Grace Abounding,' and others; also, 'THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,' as himself and many others have said.' Mr. Doe thus argues upon the fact:
this den, and he thus described it:—'The men and women felons associate together; their night rooms are two dungeons—only one court for debtors and felons—no infirmary—to bath.'—Howard's Lazarettes and Prisoner, 4th, 1759, p. 150. Well might Bunyan call it 'a den!' The gate-house was pulled down in 1765, and the prison was demolished very soon after Howard had unveiled its gloomy wretchedness. The bridge was only fourteen feet wide, the dungeons must have been small indeed. How strange an apartment did God select for his servant, in which to write this important book!
A deeply-interacting paper usually appended to Bunyan's Works, folio, 1693.
Upon his first release from prison, in 1666, he published 'Grace Abounding,' and in the title-page states 'also what he hath met with in prison. All which was written by his own head there.' The Preface to 'A Defence of Justification' is dated from prison, 1671. So his 'Confession:'—'Thine in bonds for the gospel.'
'And I reckon I shall not be out of the way if I observe and say, What hath the devil or his agents gotten by putting our great gospel minister, Bunyan, in prison? for in prison, as before mentioned, he wrote many excellent books, that have published to the world his great grace, and great truth, and great judgment, and great ingenuity; and to instance, in one, 'THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,' he hath suited to the life of a traveller so exactly and pleasantly, and to the life of a Christian, that this very book, besides the rest, hath done the superstitious sort of men and their practice more harm, or rather good, as I may call it, than if he had been let alone at his meeting at Bedford to preach the gospel to his own auditory, as it might have fallen out; for none but priest-ridden people know how to cavil at it, it wins so smoothly upon their affections, and so insensibly distils the gospel into them; and hath been printed in France, Holland, New England, and in Welsh, and about a hundred thousand in England, whereby they are made some means of grace, and the author become famous, and may be the cause of spreading his other gospel books over the European and American world, and, in process of time, may be so to the whole universe.'
This agrees with Bunyan's marginal glossary, as to the place where he was located when visited with this wondrous dream. 'As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a den; and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept I dreamed a dream.' The marginal note to that 'place where was a den,' is 'THE JAIL.' This was first added to the fourth edition, 1680; he had probably been asked, what was meant by the den, and from that time, in every edition, he publishes that his meaning was, 'THE JAIL.' That Bunyan attached much importance to these marginal notes, as a KEY to his works, is plainly stated in his verses to the reader of the 'Holy War:'—
Nor do thou go to work without my key
(In mysteries men soon do lose their way),
And also turn it right, if thou would'st know
My riddle, and would'st with my heifer plough.
It lies there in the window,* fare thee well,
My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.
No language can be plainer. The author wishes all his readers to understand where he conceived and wrote the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' He says that it was in 'a den.' He puts his key to this word in the window, and upon turning the key right, it discovers the den to be Bedford jail. In this dismal den he tranquilly slept; like the Psalmist, he feared not ten thousands of people, 'I laid me down and slept: I awakened, for the Lord sustained me.' And why? It was because 'I cried unto the Lord,' 'thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.' P. L. Like
Peter, with a conscience void of offence, 'he slept while a prisoner in a jail.' And although Bunyan had no angel from heaven to open the prison doors before him, he had that heavenly communion which filled his soul with peace, and fitted him to write for the instruction of mankind. The rapidity with which the conception of the 'Pilgrim's Progress' came over his mind and was reduced to writing, he thus describes:—
'And thus it was: I writing of the way
And race of saints, I, it is my gospel, by,
Tell suddenly into an alley,
About their journey, and the way to glory,
In more than twenty things, which I am down;
This done, I twenty more had in my crown;
And they again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the cools of fire do fly,
Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,
I'll get you by yourselves, and you at last
Should prove and make it, and eat out
The book that I already am about.
Then I set pen to paper with delight,
And quickly and my thoughts in shock and waste,
For having now my method by the end,
Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penn'd
It down; until at last it came to be,
For length and breadth, the lyness which you see.'
This simple statement requires no comment. In jail he was writing some book of 'the way and race of saints,' most probably his own spiritual experience, when the idea came over his mind to represent a Christian's course from his conviction of sin to his arrival in glory, as a journey from the city of destruction to the celestial city. This is the opinion, very elegantly expressed, of Dr. Cheever: 'As you read the "Grace Abounding," you are ready to say at every step, Here is the future author of the "Pilgrim's Progress." It is as if you stood by the side of some great sculptor, and watched every movement of his chisel, having had his design explained to you before, so that at every blow some new trait of beauty in the future statue comes clearly into view.' While thus employed, he was suddenly struck with the thought of his great allegory, and at once commenced writing it, and in a short time his first part was completed. It may be inferred that he wrote these two books about the same time, because what he omitted in the first edition of 'Grace Abounding' he also omitted in the first edition of the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' but inserted it in the subsequent editions of both these books; one of these is his singular illustration of gospel truth from the unclean beasts, being those that neither chewed the end nor divided the hoof—one of the conversations between Hopeful and Christian. This is also introduced as an addition to 'Grace Abounding,' No. 71. It was familiar with Bunyan to connect the term 'den' with his cell in the prison. Thus, when narrating his spiritual imprisonment in Doubting Castle, the Giant, instead of ordering his prisoners to their cell or dungeon, says, 'Get you down into your DEN again.' So now in the preface to 'Grace Abounding,' he thus addresses his converts: 'I being taken from you in presence, and so tied up that I cannot perform that duty that from God doth he upon me to youward, I now once again, as before, from the top of Sheuir and Hermon, so now from the lion's DEN - do look yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired haven.'
The continuation of 'Grace Abounding' was written by 'a true friend and long acquaintance' of Mr. Bunyan's; 'That his good end may be known as well as his evil beginning, I have taken upon me from my knowledge, and the best account given by other of his friends, to piece this to the thread, too soon broken off, and so lengthen it out to his entering upon eternity.' In this we are told of his long imprisonment, and that is reason he wrote the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' first part. The mode in which it was written, and the use made of it, in illustrating his addresses to his fellow-prisoners, has been handed down by one of them—Mr. Marsom, an estimable and pious preacher, who was confined with Mr. Bunyan in Beutord jail, for conscience' sake. His grand-daughter married Mr. Gurney, the grandfather of the late Baron Gurney, and of W. B. Gurney, Esq., his brother, the justly-venorated Treasurer of the Baptist Missionary Society, and he furnished me with the following facts: 'Thomas Marsom was an iron-monger, and pastor of the Baptist Church at Luton; he died in January 1726, at a very advanced age.' This Thomas Marsom was a fellow-prisoner with Bunyan; and my grandfather, who knew him well, was in the habit of repeating to his son, my father, many interesting circumstances which he had heard from him, connected with his imprisonment. One of these was, that Bunyan read the manuscript of the 'Pilgrim's Progress' to his fellow-prisoners, requesting their opinion upon it. The descriptions naturally excited a little pleasantry, and Marsom, who was of a sedate turn, gave his opinion against the publication; but on reflection, requested permission to take the manuscript to his own cell, that he might read it alone. Having done so, he returned it with an earnest recommendation that it should be published.' How easily can we imagine the despised Christians in prison for their Lord's sake, thus beguiling the dreary hours. How admirably could the poor preacher illustrate his discourses to his fellow-prisoners by the various adventures of his pilgrims. He had received calls to join more wealthy churches, but he affectionately cleaved to his poor flock at Beutord. Suppose his exhortation to have been founded on these words, 'Freely ye have received, freely give;' how admirably could he introduce all the jesuitic subtleties of Bye-ends, Money-love, and his party, and refute the arguments they had been taught by one Gripe-man of Love Gain, a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. Imagine him to be exhorting his fellow-prisoners on the 'Terrors of the Lord,' and you would anticipate his leading in the burdened Christian, recounting the awful dream of the day of judgment, at the Interpreter's house, and narrating his adventures in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Or when preaching on the words, 'Resist the devil,' who like him could recount the fight with Apollyon?
These facts are placed before the reader lest any one should for a moment entertain a doubt which would cast a shade over one of the glories of the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' It is an imperishable monument to the folly and wickedness of persecution to prevent the spread of religious principles. The enemies of the Christian faith imprisoned John Bunyan to prevent his preaching the gospel to a few poor people, and by it he preaches and will preach to millions of every clime. Keep these facts in recollection—the evidence of C. Doe who had it from Bunyan's own mouth; his own key—'den,' 'the jail,' the testimony of one who long enjoyed his friendship, published within four years of his decease; the tradition handed down by a fellow-prisoner—none of which evidence was ever denied by the advocates for persecution. If we refuse such testimony, neither should we believe if Bunyan was permitted to come from the invisible world and proclaim its truth with the trump of an archangel.
There are very strong internal proofs that the Pilgrim was written long before it was published. A second edition issued from the same press, by the same publishers, in the same year, 1678; and there is found a striking difference in the spelling of many words in these two editions, such as 'drowned' is corrected to 'drowned,' 'Slow of Despond' to 'Slough of Despond,' 'chalk' to 'chalk,' 'travailler' to 'traveller,' 'country' to 'country,' 'raggs' to 'rags,' 'brust' to 'burst.' This may readily be accounted for by the author's having kept the work in manuscript for some years before it was printed, and that he had at length consented to send it to the printers as he had written it. There is an apparent difference of twenty years in the orthography of these two books, which were published in the same year, besides some considerable additions of new characters in the second edition. The printer appears to have followed the manuscript as to spelling, punctuation, capitals, and italics. It proves, that notwithstanding his very numerous and important engagements, Bunyan found time to cultivate and improve his talents in composition, between the time when he wrote the first, and published the second edition.
The reason why it was not published for several years after his release, appears to have arisen from the difference of opinion expressed by his friends as to the propriety of printing a book which treated so familiarly the most solemn subjects.
'Well, when I had thus put my ends together,
I show'd them others, that I might see whether
They would condemn them, or them justify:
And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die.
Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so.
Some said, It might do good; others said, No.'
Somewhat similar to this, was the conference of dissenting ministers when Sunday Schools were first attempted; the desecration of the Lord's Day was pleaded against them, and it was only by a very small majority that institutions were sanctioned, which advanced the spread of Divine truth with a rapidity as extraordinary as the spread of the missionary spirit, or even as is the increased speed of travelling by the aid of steam.
Thus it was debated whether the Pilgrim should walk forth or not, fearing lest the singularity of his dress should excite vain or trivial thoughts in the readers, like the disturbance at Vanity Fair; or it might arise from a fear lest the various characters and dialogues should be considered as approaching in the slightest degree to the drama. It is impossible to account for the different feelings excited in the minds of men by reading the same narrative in which all are equally interested. In this case the fear was, lest it should tend to excite a light or trifling spirit, while the solemn realities of eternity were under consideration. In most cases, reading this volume has had a solemnizing effect upon the mind. Some have tried to read it, but have shut it up with fear, because it leads directly to the inquiry. Have I felt the burden of sin? Have I fled for refuge? Others have been deterred, because it has such home-thrusts at hypocrisy, and such cutting remarks upon those who profess godliness, but in secret are wanton and godless. The folly of reliance upon an imperfect obedience to the law for the pardon of sin, repeatedly and faithfully urged, is a hard and humbling lesson. It mercilessly exposes the worthlessness of all those things which are most prized by the worldling. No book has so continued and direct a tendency to solemn self-examination. Every character that is drawn makes a powerful appeal to the conscience, and leads almost irresistibly to the mental inquiry, 'Lord, is it I?' No work is calculated to infuse deeper solemnity into the mind of an attentive reader. Well might
Mr. Macaulay in his review say, 'The allegory of Bunyan has been read by many thousands with tears;' or as some pious man has written upon the fly-leaf of the fourth edition, 1650—
'Sleep on, good man,
Continue still thy dreams.
Your allegories do,
I think, resemble
Some landship vision
At which souls tremble.'
In addition to the serious opposition of his friends to the publication of the Pilgrim, we should also consider the author's other engagements. After so long, so harassing, so unjust an imprisonment, much of his time must have been spent in restoring order to his house and in his church; in paying pastoral visits, recovering lost stations which had been suspended during the violence of persecution, and in extending his devotional and ministerial exercises in all the villages around Bedford which were within his reach. Such was the great extent of his labours in that and the adjoining counties, as to obtain for him the title of Bishop of Bedford. As his popular talents became known, the sphere of his usefulness extended, so that an eye-witness testified, that when he preached in London, 'if there were but one day's notice given, there would be more people come together to hear him preach, than the meeting-house could hold. I have seen, to hear him preach, about twelve hundred at a morning lecture, by seven o'clock on a working day, in the dark winter time.' Such popularity must have occasioned a considerable tax upon his time, in addition to which he was then warmly engaged in his controversy on Baptism, and in some admirable practical works. These were probably some of the reasons why a humble, pious author, hesitated for several years to publish a work, on the practical bearings of which his friends had expressed such opposite opinions. At length he made up his mind—
— 'Since you are thus divided,
I print it will; and so the case decided.'
¹ By Thomas Collins, written on the blank leaf of the fourth edition, 1650, presented to the Editor by — Bullar, Esq., Southampton.
² Charles Doe, in the Struggles.
³ This controversy was, whether or not water-baptism is a pre-requisite to receiving the Lord's Supper, and who is to be the judge as to the mode of its administration. Some of the churches agreed with the Church of England as to their power to do the rites and ceremonies. Not so John Bunyan. He considered that this question should be left to the personal decision of every candidate. The fruits of the new birth, the baptism of the Holy Ghost, which alone is the door of admission to the Saviour's family, was, in his opinion, the only question to be decided by the church, as a pre-requisite to admission to the table of his Lord. See Mat. iii. 11; Mar. i. 8, Ln. iii. 16; Jn. i. 26—33; compared with He. vi. 2, and Ep. iv. 6.
CHAPTER III.
BUNTAN'S QUALIFICATIONS TO WRITE THE 'PILGRIM'S PRO-
GRESS' SANCTIFIED BY PRISON DISCIPLINE.
That the author of the Pilgrim was pre-eminently qualified to write such a work is proved by its vast circulation, and by the extraordinary interest which it created, and has kept alive, for nearly two centuries, throughout the world. This ought not to excite surprise, when it is recollected that it was the production of a man profoundly learned in all the subtleties of the human heart; deeply skilled in detecting error and sophistry; thoroughly humbled under a sense of his own unworthiness. He was baptized into the Divine truths of Christianity by the searching, wounding, and healing influences of the Holy Spirit. Shut up for twelve years with his Bible, all the rags of popery and heathenism were stripped off, and he came out a living body of divinity, comparatively free from mere human doctrines or systems. The spirit of the prophets and apostles breathes in his language. His was an education which all the academics and universities in the world could not have communicated. He was deeply learned in that 'wisdom that is from above,' Jn. iii. 17, and can be acquired only in the school of Christ. His spirit was nurtured by closo, unwearied, prayerful searching of the Word of life—by perpetual watchfulness over the workings of his spirit, and by inward communion with God. He knew well what was meant by 'groanings which cannot be uttered,' Re. vii. 2, as well as by being 'caught up,' as it were, to 'the third heaven,' even to 'paradise,' and in his spirit to 'hear unspeakable words which it is not possible for man to utter.' Pro. xii. 4. Previous to his imprisonment he had gone through every severe spiritual trial: with the Psalmist he had sunk in deep mire where there was no standing; the powers of darkness, like 'the floods, overflow me,' Ps. xix. 2; and with him he could also sing, 'I will extol thee, O Lord, for thou hast lifted me up,' Ps. xix. 1; 'Thou hast brought up my soul from the grave,' Ps. xix. 2; 'He brought me up out of an horrible pit,' Ps. xix. 2; 'Thou hast healed me;' 'Thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.' In his happier days, even while in a gloomy jail, he felt that he was an inhabitant of that invisible, holy, spiritual Jerusalem, the universal church of Christ, encompassed by the 'Lord as a wall of fire, and the glory in the midst of her.' He lived in an atmosphere, and used a language, unknown to the wisdom of this world, and which a poet-laureate mistook for reveries, for 'the hot and cold fits of a spiritual ague,' or for the paroxysms of disease. His mind was deeply imbued with all that was
⁴ Southey's Life of Bunyan, xxxii.
most terrific, as well as most magnificent in religion. In proportion as his Christian course became pure and lovely, so his former life must have been surveyed with unmitigated severity and abhorrence.
These mental conflicts are deeply interesting; they arose from an agonized mind—a sincere and determined spirit roused by Divine revelation, opening before his astonished but bewildered mind, solemn, eternal realities. He that sits in the scorner's seat may scoff at them, while he who is earnestly inquiring after the way, the truth, and the life, will examine them with prayerful seriousness. In after-life, the recollection of these emotions filled his lips with words that pierced his hearers.
When at liberty, his energetic eloquence had attracted to his sermons every class. It is said that the great Dr. John Owen was asked by the King how a man of his learning could attend to hear a tinker preach, he replied, 'May it please your Majesty, had I the tinker's abilities, I would most gladly relinquish my learning.' Thus did a man, profoundly versed in scholastic literature, and that sanctified by piety, bow to the superiority of the Spirit's teaching. The unlettered tinker led captive, by his consecrated natural eloquence, one of the most eminent divines of his day.
Considering the amazing popularity of the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and its astonishing usefulness to all classes of mankind, in all the countries of the earth, may we not attribute its author's deep and hallowed feelings, severe trials, and every lesson of Divine wisdom he received, as being intended by the Holy Spirit to fit him to write this surprising Dream?
Bunyan was a master of rhetoric, and logic, and moral philosophy, without studying those sciences, or perhaps even understanding the terms by which they are designated. His Bible (wondrous book!) was his library. All his genius was nurtured from the living fountain of truth; it purified his style, and adapted his work, by its simplicity and energy, to every understanding. His key to its mysteries was earnest, holy prayer; and musing over the human heart, and watching the operations of nature, afforded him an ample illustration of its sacred truths. His labour in tagging laces required no application of mind, so that his time for study was every moment of his life that he could save from sleep, and even then his ever-active spirit was busy in dreams, many of which contained valuable lessons, so that his mind became most richly stored, and was perpetually overflowing.
'The poetry of the Bible was not less the source of Bunyan's poetical powers, than the study of the whole Scriptures was the source of his simplicity and purity of style. His heart was not only made new by the spirit of the Bible, but his whole intellectual being was penetrated and transfigured by its influence. He brought the spirit and power, gathered from so long and exclusive a communion with the prophets and apostles, to the composition of every page of the "Pilgrim's Progress."
Human character was unveiled before the penetrating eye of one so conversant with the inspired writings; every weak point is seen, as well as the advantage taken by the subtle enemy of souls; and all so admirably and plainly pictured that he who runs must stop, read, and admire, even to his surprise and wonder; and be constrained to inquire, Whence had this poor mechanic such knowledge?
Nor must it be forgotten, that in addition to his heavenly, he possessed peculiar earthly qualifications for his important work. He had been the very ringleader in all manner of vice and ungodliness. John Ryland's description of his character is written with peculiar pungency: 'No man of common sense and common integrity can deny, that Bunyan, the tinker of Elstow, was a practical atheist, a worthless, contemptible infidel, a vile rebel to God and goodness, a common profligate, a soul-despising, a soul-murdering, a soul-damning thoughtless wretch, as could exist on the face of the earth. Now he astonished, O heaven, to eternity, and wonder, O earth and hell! while time endures. Behold this very man become a miracle of mercy, a mirror of wisdom, goodness, holiness, truth, and love. See his polluted soul cleansed and adorned by Divine grace, his guilt pardoned, the Divine law inscribed upon his heart, the Divine image or the resemblance of God's moral perfections impressed upon his soul.' He had received the mere rudiments of education, but vicious habits had 'almost utterly' blotted out of his memory every useful lesson; so that he must have had, when impressed with Divine truth, great determination to have enabled him not only to recover the instruction which he had received in his younger days, but even to have added to it such stores of valuable information. In this, his natural quickness of perception and retentive memory must have been of extreme value. Having been mixed up intimately with every class of men, and seen them in their most unguarded moments, it enabled him to draw his characters in such vivid colours, and with such graphic accuracy. Filled with an inspiration which could be drawn from the Bible alone, he has delineated characters as touching and interesting to us in the nineteenth century as they were to our pilgrim forefathers of a bygone
1 North American Review, vol. lxxix.
2 Bunyan's Works, 8vo. Preface by Ryland.
age, and as they will be to the Christian sojourner of ages yet to come. It is a history, with little variation, of that which must always happen while Christianity endures.
Bunyan had run the round of sin; had sown the seed of vice, and brought forth the bitter fruits of repentance; had felt intense alarm lest eternal torments should swallow up his soul in death; had fled for, and found refuge in, the sufferings of Christ. His burden removed, he loved much, because to him much had been forgiven; he had been brought up out of horrible darkness, and well was he qualified to aid those who were walking through the dismal valley of the shadow of death!
His out-door habits and employments, and his sanctified contemplations on the beauties of nature, were calculated to strengthen the vigour of his imagination, and the decision of his character. Happily, the glorious Dreamer never appeared to have any idea of his own immortal fame as an author; little did he dream of the happy influence that his humble labours would have upon millions of mankind; all his spirit centred in his Saviour; all his efforts were to make known the glad tidings of salvation to surrounding sinners. If he coveted the tongue of an angel, it was not for brilliancy of language, but that he might use burning words to make an indelible impression upon his hearers. Even the greatest of his works he published under the humble similitude of a dream, or as that which had passed before his imagination, unaided by those mental powers which are called forth in composing a narrative intended for publication. His sixty humble books were printed without ornament, upon inferior paper, of the class called chap-books, from their being verded by travelling hawkers called chapmen, now magniloquently called colporteurs.
John Burton, a minister, thus recommends Bunyan, in an introduction to Some Gospel Truths Opened, 1656: 'Be not offended because Christ holds forth the glorious treasure of the gospel to thee in a poor earthen vessel, by one who hath neither the greatness nor the wisdom of this world to commend him to thee. This man is not chosen out of an earthly, but out of the heavenly university, the church of Christ, furnished with the Spirit, gifts, and graces of Christ. He hath, through grace, taken these three he verily degrees—union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan; which do more fit a man for that weighty work of preaching the gospel, than all university learning and degrees that can be had. Having had experience, with many other saints, of this man's soundness in the faith, of his godly conversation, and his ability to preach the gospel, not by human art, but by the Spirit of Christ, and that with much success in the conversion of sinners.'
His character and qualifications were also admirably portrayed by his pastor, J. Gifford, soon after he entered upon the work of the ministry. It is in his introduction to the first edition of a 'Few Sighs from Hell,' 1658, and as this interesting portrait was not inserted in any of the subsequent editions of that book, and has escaped the researches of all the biographers of Bunyan, I am tempted to give it verbatim, more especially, as it is generally believed that John Gifford was the Evangelist who directed the Pilgrim to the Wicket Gate, put him again into the path when under the flames of Sinai, and prepared him for persecution at Vanity Fair. 'Concerning the author (whatsoever the censures and reports of many are), I have this to say, that I verily believe God hath counted him faithful, and put him into the ministry; and though his outward condition and former employment was taken, and his humane learning small, yet is he one that hath acquaintance with God, and taught by his Spirit, and hath been used in his hand to do souls good; for to my knowledge there are divers who have felt the power of the word delivered by him, and I doubt not but that many more may, if the Lord continue him in his work; he is not like unto your drones that will suck the sweet, but do no work. For he hath laid forth himself to the utmost of his strength, taking all advantages to make known to others what he himself hath received of God; and I fear that is one reason why the archers have shot so soarly at him; for by his and others' industry, in their Master's work, their slothfulness hath been reproved, and the eyes of many have been opened to see a difference between those that are sent of God, and those that run before they are sent. And that he is none of those light fanatick spirits that our age abounds withal, this following discourse, together with his former, that have been brought to publique view, will testifie; for among other things that may bear record to him herein, you shall find him magnifying and exalting the Holy Scriptures, and largely showing the worth, excellency, and usefulness of them.
'And surely if thou shalt (notwithstanding this)
1 John Gifford had been a major in the King's army, was convicted for raising an ammunition in Kent, and sentenced to die, but made his escape from prison, and settled in Bedford, as a medical practitioner. He was a great presenter, but because, after his conversion, a Baptist minister, and formed his fellow converts, at a church at Bedford, a s. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100 stumble at his meanness and want of humane learning, thou wilt declare thine unacquaintance with God's declared method, who, to perfect his own praise, and to still the enemy and avenger, makes choice of babes and sucklings, and in their mouthes ordaineth strength. Ps. 10. 2. Though men that have a great design do, and must make use of those that in reason are most likely to effect it, yet must the Lord do so too? then instruments (not himself) would carry away the praise; but that no flesh should glory in his presence, he hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and base things of the world, and things that are despised hath God chosen. 1 Ca. 1. 27-29. Cast thine eye back to the beginning of the gospel dispensation (which surely, if at any time, should have come forth in the wisdom and glory of the world), and thou shalt see what method the Lord did take at the first to exalt his Son Jesus; he goes not amongst the Jewish rabbies, nor to the schools of learning, to fetch out his gospel preachers, but to the trades, and those most contemptible too; yet let not any from hence conceive, that I undervalue the gifts and graces of such who have been, or now are endued with them, nor yet speak against learning, being kept in its place, but my meaning is, that those that are learned should not despise those that are not; or those that are not, should not despise those that are, who are faithful in the Lord's work; and, therefore, being about to leave thee, I shall leave with thee two scriptures to be considered of. The one is, Ja. 10. 20. Verily, verily I say unto you, he that receiveth whomsoever I send (mark whomsoever), receiveth me; and he that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent me. The other is, 10. 2. 18: He that heareth you, heareth me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me; and he that despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me.—I. G. Bunyan closes his own preface with these words, 'I am thine, if thou be not ashamed to own me, because of my low and contemptible descent in the world, John Bunyan.' This was altered in the subsequent editions to, 'I am thine, to serve in the Lord Jesus, John Bunyan.'
His own account of his training perfectly agrees with that given by his pastor. In the epistle to his treatise on 'The Law and Grace,' about 1600, he thus speaks: 'Reader, if thou do finde this book empty of fantastical expressions, and without light, vain, whimsical, scholar-like terms, thou must understand, it is because I never went to school to Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at my father's house, in a very mean condition, among a company of poor countrymen. But if thou do finde a parcel of plain, yet sound, true, and home sayings, attribute that to the Lord Jesus, his gifts and abilities, which he hath bestowed upon such a poor creature as I am, and have been.'
Bunyan's great natural abilities required to be tempered in the school of affliction; and his ardent temperament met with no ordinary degree of chastisement; his principles and constancy were tried by bonds and imprisonment; his spirit, in the warfare of controversy, not only with the enemies of his Lord, but upon minor points with his brother disciples. And with some of these he, after their wordy war, met in the same common jail; united in worship before the throne of God; former wounds were healed, and heart-burnings sanctified; and he became more fully fitted as a guide to all pilgrims of every sect. He passed through every trial that his Lord saw needful, to temper his ardent spirit, and fit him to write his immortal Allegory.
It is difficult to account for Bunyan's freedom from those popular delusions which so characterise the age in which he lived, and which spread over the most pious and learned of his contemporaries; the belief in witchcraft, sorcery, ghosts, and goblin sprites, who, in his days, were supposed to ride upon broomsticks through the air, or 'dart through a key-hole swift as light.' Stories of witchcraft, haunted houses, necromancy, and such fobies, are found in the pilgrimages of his day. Although Sir Matthew Hale, Cotton Mather, Baxter, and our most eminent men, were strangely full of faith in these fancies, even from that king who thought himself a mickle wise man, but proved to be a fool and a pedant, to the wretch called the witch-finder, who, by his perjuries, legally murdered so many poor helpless old women, for the rich were rarely, if ever, attacked. Bunyan's early habits, and want of education, and prolific imagination, must have peculiarly fitted him for all such vulgar errors; but he escaped them all. Was it that, after his conversion, the solemnities of the world to come swallowed up all other considerations? or, was it the workings of the Holy Spirit, to fit his writings to be a blessing to future and more enlightened generations? It is a remarkable fact, worthy of serious reflection.
That a man possessing such extraordinary talent should excite the envy of some, and the bitterest animosity of others, is natural. 'The archers did shoot sorely at him,' and never was a man better armed to resist and crush his comparatively pany assailants. His sentiments and conduct, as to the profitable trade of preaching, were also calculated to injure him in the esteem of the clergy. Among many false charges brought against him, one was, the making merchandise of souls through covetousness. His reply was, 'Friend, the spirit that led thee to this is a lying spirit; for though I be poor, and of no repute in the world, as to outward things, yet, through grace, I have learned, by the example of the apostle, to preach the truth, and also to work with my hands, both for mine own living and for those that are with me, when I have opportunity. And I trust that the Lord Jesus, who hath helped me to reject the wages of unrighteousness hitherto, will also help me still; so that I shall distribute that which God hath given me freely, and not for filthy lucre's sake.¹ In those days, hard words and uncivil language were commonly used in controversy, and Bunyan's early associations and singular genius furnished his quiver with arrows of piercing point. His moral character was assailed in the grossest terms; he was called a wizard, a Jesuit, a highwayman, a libertine, and was charged as guilty of every crime; to this he gave a direct denial, and triumphantly pointed to his whole conduct since his conversion as a refutation of such unfounded calumnies. These malignant accusations are referred to and refuted in that thrilling narrative, 'The singular experience and great sufferings of Mrs. Agnes Beaumont,' contained in a deeply interesting volume, An Abstract of the gracious Dealings of God with several eminent Christians, by Samuel James, M.A.² Another and very different tournament took place between him and E. Fowler, afterwards Bishop of Gloucester. He published his views of The Design of Christianity; that it was merely the restoration of man to his primitive state. Bunyan saw his book, and very justly conceiving that the learned divine had asserted some gross errors upon doctrinal points of the greatest importance, he treated the embryo bishop just the same as if he had been a brother tinker, a mere man who was attempting to rob his (Bunyan's) beloved Master of one of the most glorious gems in his crown. In the almost incredibly short time of forty-five days,³ he, in jail, composed an answer, consisting of 118 pages of small quarto, closely printed, and in which he completely demolished the theory of this great scholar. It is entitled, 'A Defence of the Doctrine of Justification by Faith in Jesus Christ, showing true Gospel Holiness flows from thence; or, Mr. Fowler's pretended Design of Christianity proved to be nothing more than to trample under foot the blood of the Son of God; and the idolizing of man's own righteousness.'⁴ In this hastily written, but valuable book, Bunyan used very strong language; reflecting upon a man of considerable influence, and one of his decided enemies. Of some of Mr. Fowler's sentiments, he says, 'Here are pure dictates of a brutish, beastly man, that neither knows himself nor one title of the Word of God.'⁵ 'But why should this THIEF love thus to clamber and seek to go to God by other means than Christ?'⁶ Mr. Fowler said, 'It cannot be worth our while to lay out any considerable matter of our heat, either for or against doubtful opinions, alterable modes, vicarious circumstances of religion; it would be like the apes blowing at a glow-worm, which affords neither light nor warmth,' and whatsoever is commended by the custom of the places we live in, or commanded by superiors, our Christian liberty is to do them.⁷ Bunyan knew the feelings of the clergy in his own neighbourhood, and he also knew that the Act of Uniformity had just turned out all the godly and evangelical ministers from the Church of England. To this sophistry, as to a Christian's being bound by the custom of the country he lives in, and by the authority of superiors, as to outward forms or ceremonies of Divine worship and religious teaching, our Pilgrim's guide thus breaks out into what Mr. Fowler calls a Rabshakeh, 'I know none so wedded thereto as yourselves, even the whole gang of your rabbling counterfeit clergy; who, generally, like the ape you speak of, lie blowing up the applause and glory of your trumpery, and, like the tail, with your foolish and sophistical arguings, you cover the filthy parts thereof.'⁸
To Bunyan's Treatise a reply was immediately published, and in it the gentleman and scholar complains of the uncharitable terms used by Bunyan, and we are led to expect something polite and genteel; but, unfortunately, the bishop in expectancy, or one of his friends, beats the tinker in harsh epithets, without answering his hard arguments. The scoffer calls our Pilgrim's guide 'grossly ignorant,' 'most unchristian and wicked,' 'a piece of proud folly,' 'so very dirty a creature that he disdains to defile his fingers with him;'⁹ and yet writes a book in reply to him. He vauntingly says, that 'Bunyan can no more disgrace the bishop than a rude creature can eclipse the moon by barking at her, or make palaces contemptible by their lifting up their legs against them.'¹⁰ 'He is not in the least concerned (so he pretends) at the brutish barkings of such a creature;' 'a most black-mouthed calumniator;'¹¹ 'John Bunyan, a person that hath been near these twenty years, or longer, most infamous in the town and county of Bedford for a very pestilent schismatic;'¹² and winds up
¹ Vol. ii. p. 293.
² Design of Christianity, 8vo, 1671, p. 239.
³ Ibid. p. 242.
⁴ 'Defence of the Doctrine of Justification,' vol. ii. p. 322.
⁵ Dict. wpt. 4vo, 1672, title.
⁶ Ibid. preface. ⁷ Ibid. p. 2.
⁸ Ibid. p. 3. This exactly agrees with the opinion of Justice Chester, expressed at the session when Bunyan's wife is nobly present Judge Hale to release him. 'My lord,' and Justice Chester, 'he is a pestilent fellow, there is not such a fellow in the country again.'—Rel. on of Bunyan's Improvement, vol. i. p. 57.
¹ 'Gospel Truths Vindicated,' vol. ii. p. 201.
² The public were indebted to Mr. S. J. Botton for a new and handsome edition of this work in 1824.
³ From February 13 to March 27, 1671.
⁴ Vol. ii. p. 275. ⁵ I. 293.
much of his abuse in these words:—'I now appeal to authority, whether this man ought to enjoy any interest in his Majesty's toleration; and whether the letting such firebrands, and most impudent, malicious schismatics, go unpunished doth not tend to the subversion of all government? I say, let our superiors judge of this.'¹ Bunyan had then suffered nearly twelve years' imprisonment, and was more zealous and intrepid than ever; and yet this fanatic bishop would have had his imprisonment continued, or his life forfeited, because he could not resist the arrows with which this prisoner for Christ assailed him, drawn all burning from the furnace of God's Holy Word. This was one of the lessons by which Bunyan was taught how to lead the Pilgrims in their attack upon the monster, Antichrist, which was very rampant, and looked upon the Pilgrims with great disdain; but these valiant worthies did continually assault him, until he became wounded, 'and it is verily believed by some that this beast will certainly die of his wounds.'² How would it delight the church of Christ to witness his death, and to see his vile remains buried under all his implements of torture; his inquisitions, flames, and stakes, dungeons and racks, halters and church-rates. Another, and a very serious lesson, he was taught in the controversy which he carried on with some Quakers and strict Baptists.
Bunyan's controversy, which is said to have been with the Quakers, was, in fact, not with that highly respectable and useful body of Christians, but with persons whom he considered to be under serious delusions; some of these called themselves Quakers. At this period, the Society of Friends were not united into a body or denomination. The battle, according to his own words, was against Satan, and those lies with which he had deceived some enthusiastic spirits. These characters were called, by Bunyan, a company of loose ranters and light notionists, with here and there a legalist, who were shaking in their principles, sometimes on this religion and sometimes on that. It is true that he talks of the Quakers' delusions; but his fight was with principles, and not persons, and he sets forth what, in his opinion, were 'the lies with which the devil beguileth poor souls.' First, That salvation was not fully completed for sinners by Christ Jesus. Second, That the light within was sufficient without the written Word. Some of these visionaries denied the divinity of Christ; others asserted that Christ was born, lived, and was crucified within them, and that he was only to be found within themselves by the aid of that light which enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world; that his being found in fashion as a man, and humbling himself to the death of the cross—in fact, that his personal appearance on earth, was only typical of his taking up a residence in the soul of every believer. Thus they entirely abandoned and neglected the written Word. They adopted some singular practices, lived upon bread and water, forbade marriage, and refused to wear hat-bands.³ Such were the adversaries against whom he wrote the first book that he published, called 'Gospel Truths Opened.' It was about this time that Naylor appeared; and he, acting under the delusion of having Christ within him, rode on an ass into Bristol, while the mob strewed their clothes before him, crying, 'Hosanna' blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.' And instead of reasoning with him, in order to remove this temporary delusion, he was cruelly tormented, imprisoned, pilloried, with its brutal accompaniments; burned through the tongue with a hot iron; branded with a B on his forehead for blasphemy; whipped, and confined to hard labour. Mr. Grainger says 'that the discipline of a prison soon restored him to his senses;'⁴ and we are inclined to think that he was mercifully restored to his right mind, because he was some years afterwards received into the Society of Friends, as a member, and died in their communion—a fact which the clergyman had not the honesty to state.
Against this first work of Bunyan's an answer was published by Edward Burroughs, afterwards an eminent Quaker. In this, he fought, as Bunyan called it, 'bitterly, with a parcel of scolding expressions;' and he advises him not to appear so gross a railing Habshakeh; and, in fact, he proved himself a match for his adversary with those weapons. He calls Bunyan 'of the stock of Ishmael, and of the seed of Cain, whose line reacheth to the murthering priests, enemies of Christ preaching for hire.' Bunyan replies, 'These are words flung unto the winds by thee, my adversary.' Burroughs having thoughtlessly urged that there was not a Quaker heard of in the days of John, his keen antagonist replied, 'Friend, thou hast rightly said, there was not a Quaker heard of indeed, though there were many Christians heard of then.' 'Your sister, Anne Blackley, but me, in the audience of many, to throw away the Scriptures; to which I answered, No, for then the devil would be too hard for me.' Among other queries put to him by Burroughs, one was, 'Is not the liar and slanderer an unbeliever, and of the cursed nature?'⁵
¹ Dict. expt. off. p. 70.
² 'Pilgrim's Progress,' Part II, Vanity Fair.
³ Hat-bands were gay lunches of ribbons and rosettes fastened round the hat or cap.
⁴ Rows for the noble glad after; see
⁵ His cast and last-stand show ten quality.
⁶ Resp. Hist. of England.
⁷ 'Vindication of Gospel Truths,' query 8, vol. ii. p. 299.
Bunyan's reply was, 'The liar and slanderer is an unbeliever; and if he live and die in that condition, his state is very sad, though, if he turn, there is hope for him; therefore repent and turn quickly, or else look to yourselves, for you are the men, as is clear by your discourse.'
This controversy, carried on with great spirit and warmth, related much to that difficult question. Whether Christ continued his human body after his ascension, or was it resolved into a spiritual form? These disputations, which led to a prayerful investigation of Scripture, must have had a beneficial tendency. Bunyan considered that his antagonist did not value the Holy Oracles sufficiently; and Burroughs considered that too little attention was paid to 'Christ formed in us the hope of glory.' Both were questions of the deepest importance; and happy was it for those of their countrymen who witnessed the strife between these giants, and were led earnestly and prayerfully to search into these vital and important truths. The dispute presented much wholesome fruit, although not served up in silver dishes. Burroughs's friend, Howgill, bears this testimony of his worth:—'Though thou didst cut as a razor—and many a rough stone hast thou squared and polished, and much knotty wood hast thou hewn in thy day—yet, to the seed, thy words dropped like oil, and thy lips as the honeycomb.' Bunyan held a public disputation with these zealous missionaries in Paul's Steeple House, Bedford Town, May 23, 1656. This was a contest which involved in it a close examination of the Sacred Scriptures, and certainly afforded valuable lessons in fitting Britain's allegorist for his great and important work.
Bunyan's difference of opinion relative to the terms of communion at the Lord's table, led to a controversy with the Strict Baptist churches, to all of which he was sincerely attached; and this was probably one of the means by which he was enabled to write an itinerary to all pilgrims; for it must have blunted the edge of his sectarian feelings, and have enlarged his heart towards the whole Christian community of every class. In the preface to the 'Reason of his Practice,' he displays all the noble sentiments of a Christian confessor; of one who has been deservedly called the Apostle of Bedford, or Bishop Bunyan. 'Faith and holiness are my professed principles, with an endeavour, so far as in me lieth, to be at peace with all men. What shall I say? let mine enemies themselves be judges, if anything in these following doctrines, or if aught that any man hath heard me preach, doth, or hath, according to the true intent of my words, savoured either of heresy or rebellion. I say, again, let they themselves be judges, if aught they find in my writings or preaching doth render me worthy of almost twelve years' imprisonment, or one that deserveth to be hanged, or banished for ever, according to their tremendous sentence. Indeed, my principles are such as lead me to a denial to communicate in the things of the kingdom of Christ with ungodly and open profane; neither can I, in or by the superstitious inventions of this world, consent that my soul should be governed in any of my approaches to God, BECAUSE COMMANDED TO THE CONTRART, AND COMMENDED FOR SO REFUSING. Wherefore, excepting this one thing, for which I ought not to be rebuked, I shall, I trust, in despite of slander and falsehood, discover myself at all times a peaceable and obedient subject. But if nothing will do, unless I make my conscience a continual butchery and slaughter-shop, unless, putting out mine own eyes, I commit me to the blind to lead me (as, I doubt, is desired by some), I have determined, the Almighty God being my help and shield, yet to suffer, if frail life might continue so long, even till the moss shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather than to violate my faith and principles. Touching my practice, as to communion with visible saints, although not baptized with water, I say, it is my present judgment so to do, and am willing to render a further reason thereof, shall I see the leading hand of God thereto. Thine in bonds for the gospel, JOHN BUNTAN. At the end of this treatise, he severely alludes to the unfair practices of controversialists; he signs himself, 'I am thine to serve thee, Christian, so long as I can look out at those eyes that have had so much dirt thrown at them by many, JOHN BUNTAN.'
Kiffin, Denne, T. Paul, and Danvers replied to this 'Confession,' Jesse, and others, defended it. This led to the publication of 'The Differences about Water-Baptism no Bar to Communion,' and to the 'Peaceable Principles and True.' The controversy was carried on with sufficient acrimony to shake Bunyan's sectarian feelings, and to excite in his breast a determined spirit of personal, prayerful inquiry at the Fountain of Truth, in all matters, both of his faith and practice in religion, even at the risk of life.
The principles of our great allegorist upon this subject have spread over a great number of the Baptist churches. Bunyan probably considered these sentiments as the precursors of the dawn of a happy day, when the baptism of the Holy Ghost, with purifying power like heavenly fire, shall absorb all these bitter waters of contention which occasioned such angry, unholy dissension among the churches of Christ; when the soul of every believer shall be enhued and immersed in sacred love and zeal for the honour of our Lord and the increase of his kingdom, and the subject of water-
¹ See Burroughs's Works, p. 204.
baptism, as a personal duty, be better understood and appreciated.
In this conflict with his brethren, all that sanctified penetration, that unwavering fortitude, and that determination, first to understand, and then to do his Lord's will, was displayed, that fitted the Author to write his surprising Allegory, and to be a 'Great-heart' to guide and protect his weaker fellow-pilgrims.
Soon after this, the prisons of England were filled with the most pious and virtuous of her citizens; and when Bunyan and his antagonists, both Quakers and Baptists, were confined within the same walls, conversed upon spiritual things, worshipped unitedly their God by the same way of access, all former bitterness and animosities were swallowed up in the communion of saints, and the wall of separation was thrown down; not only did their sufferings increase their catholic spirit and respect for each other, but they became a blessing to many who were confined for real crimes; and when they came forth, it was with renewed powers to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ. Hundreds of poor, imprisoned, godly ministers felt the power of those words: 'Blessed be God, who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them that are in trouble.' 2 Co. 1.4. Like Kelsey, a Baptist minister, who suffered seventeen years' imprisonment, they could say—
'I hope the more they punish me, that I shall grow mere bold. The furnace they provide for me, will make me finer gold. My friends, my God will do me good, when they intend me harm;
They may suppose a prison cold, but God can make it warm. What if my God should suffer them on me to have their will. And give me heaven instead of earth? I am no loser still.'
Thus does Antichrist destroy himself, for whether he imprisons the Christian, or only seizes on his goods, he uses weapons to hasten the destruction of his own kingdom.