THE LIFE ""^o 
 
 JOHN BUIYAN, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 BY STEPHEN B. WICKENS. 
 
 Behold, this dreamer cometh, — Genesis xxxvii, 19. 
 
 Revere the man whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
 
 And points the Progress of the soul to God. — Cowper. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY G. LANE & C. B. TIPPETT, 
 
 FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, AT THE CONFERENCE 
 OFFICE, 200 MULBERRY-STREET. 
 
 J Colloid, Printer. 
 1815. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by 
 G. Lank & P.P. Sandford, in the Clerk's Office of the District 
 Court of the Southern District of New-York. 
 
 Gift. Blake' X ig- 10, 1942 
 
Tf *l 
 
 . W 5 
 
 5" P ° 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 
 The name of John Bunyan is one which 
 reflects lustre, not only on the religious de- 
 nomination of which he was a member, and 
 at whose altars he ministered, but also on the 
 age (-"the church in which he lived, adorned 
 though that age was with such luminaries as 
 Baxter, Owen, Howe, Hall, and Taylor. His 
 remarkable conversion and subsequent his- 
 tory furnish a striking display of the trans- 
 forming power of divine grace. In burning 
 zeal and deep piety, in ardour of expression 
 and fertility of imagination, he was equalled 
 by few. As an author he has attained a pop- 
 ularity almost unparalleled, and which in- 
 creases rather than diminishes with the lapse 
 of years. " His works praise him in the 
 gates," and in the day of eternity thousands 
 will " rise up and call him blessed." 
 
 One of his most remarkable productions 
 is his autobiographical narrative, entitled, 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 " Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners j 
 or a brief relation ol the exceeding mercy of 
 God to his poor servant, John Bunyan ; 
 namely, in his taking him out of the dung- 
 hill, and converting him to the faith of his 
 blessed Son Jesus Christ ; where is also 
 showed, what sight of and what trouble he 
 had for sin, and also what various temptations 
 he hath met with, and how God hath carried 
 him through them all." It gives a full rela- 
 tion of his religious experience from early 
 childhood till he began to preach ; and has 
 supplied the ground-work of all subsequent 
 lives of its author. The editions published 
 since his decease contain a brief Continua- 
 tion, written by one who styles himself "a true 
 friend and long acquaintance of Mr. Bunyan," 
 and which is commonly attributed to Charles 
 Doe, a contemporary Baptist preacher. 
 
 In the British Museum there is a copy of 
 an old Memoir, (see p. 270,) by a personal 
 friend of Bunyan's, who is supposed to have 
 been a clergyman of the English Establish- 
 ment. Some interesting extracts from this 
 work are given by Mr. Philip, whose re- 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 searches have added much to our stock of 
 information respecting the author of the Pil- 
 grim's Progress. Dr. Southey, in the Me- 
 moir prefixed to his edition of the Pilgrim, 
 has furnished some valuable illustrations of 
 Bunyan's literary history, and "done ampler 
 justice to his genius than most of his prede- 
 cessors;" but his political and ecclesiastical 
 prejudices rendered him incapable of appre- 
 ciating his religious opinions and character. 
 The other Memoirs of Bunyan are but brief 
 sketches, except that by Mr. Ivimey, which 
 was a republication of " Grace Abounding," 
 with some Reflections, and an enlarged Con- 
 tinuation. It has now been out of print for 
 many years. 
 
 The volume now presented to the reader 
 comprises the substance not only of Bunyan's 
 own narrative, already referred to, but also 
 of all that is known with certainty respecting 
 his life, labours, character, and writings. The 
 additional information has been drawn from 
 Bunyan's other works, from preceding biog- 
 raphies, and from numerous other authentic 
 sources. The whole has been rewritten, and 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 so condensed and arranged as to give, within 
 the compass of a small volume, a more com- 
 plete and connected account than is elsewher" 
 to be found. S.B.W. 
 
 New York, February, 1844. 
 
 thou whom, borne on fancy's eager wing 
 Back to the season of life's happy spring, 
 
 1 pleased remember, and while memory yet 
 Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget, — 
 Ingenious dreamer, in whose well-told tale 
 Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail ; 
 Whose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style. 
 May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile ; 
 Witty, and well employed, and, like thy Lord, 
 Speaking in parables his slighted word ; 
 
 I name thee not, lest so despised a name 
 Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame ; 
 Yet, e'en in transitory life's late day, 
 That mingles all my brown with sober gray, 
 Revere the man, whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
 And guides the Progress of the soul to God. 
 'Twere well with most if books that could engage 
 Their childhood pleased them at a riper age : 
 The man, approving what had charm'd the boy, 
 Would die at last in comfort, peace, and joy ; . 
 And not with curses on his art who stole 
 The gem of truth from his unguarded soul. 
 
 COWPBB. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter I. Bunyan's birth and parentage : his childhood, 
 and youthful depravity Page 9 
 
 Chapter II. Bunyan in the army : his marriage and out- 
 ward reformation 19 
 
 Chapter III. Bunyan's religious experience : difficulties 
 about faith, election, etc 33 
 
 Chapter IV. Bunyan's religious experience : his extraor- 
 dinary temptations and spiritual conflicts 75 
 
 Chapter V. Bunyan's religious experience : deliverance 
 from his temptations : remarks 93 
 
 Chapter VI. Bunyan becomes a member of the Baptist 
 Church at Bedford : he begins to preach 117 
 
 Chapter VII. Bunyan's first publication : his controversy 
 with the Quakers 141 
 
 Chapter VIII. Abridgment of religious liberty : Bunyan's 
 arrest, examinations, and imprisonment 149 
 
 Chapter IX. Mrs. Bunyan applies to the judges for her 
 husband's release, but without success 179 
 
 Chapter X. Bunyan's religious experience, his trials and 
 consolations, during his imprisonment 191 
 
 Chapter XI. Bunyan's employments and studies during 
 his imprisonment 201 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter XII. Bunyan is elected pastor of the church at 
 Bedford : his release from prison 219 
 
 Chapter XIII. Bunyan defends his practice of commun- 
 ing with all true Christians 231 
 
 Chapter XIV. Character and style of Bunyan's preach- 
 ing, with specimens from his printed discourses . . 239 
 
 Chapter XV. Publication of the Pilgrim's Progress, with 
 remarks on and notices of that work . 263 
 
 Chapter XVI. Calumnious report : publication of the 
 Holy War, Life of Badman, etc 283 
 
 Chapter XVII. Last year of Bunyan's life : his dying 
 sayings, and death 299 
 
 Chapter XVIII. Bunyan's personal appearance : his fa- 
 mily: traditions and relics: conclusion 311 
 
 Elstow Churoh and Belfry. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 bunyan's birth and parentage: depravity 
 of his youthful years. 
 
 Bedford is a nourishing town, lying in a rich 
 valley, on the banks of the Ouse, about fifty 
 miles from London. It is a place of great anti- 
 quity, and has been the theatre of important 
 events. More than a thousand years have 
 passed away since the first building was erected 
 on its site. It has been the scene of Saxon 
 and Danish warfare ; and its strong castle (de- 
 molished centuries ago) witnessed many a 
 bloody siege. Yet to multitudes, with whom 
 its name is a familiar sound, Bedford is known 
 only from its connection with an individual who, 
 though of obscure parentage and humble occu- 
 pation, there earned for himself " a name that 
 will outlive the memory of kings" — the world- 
 renowned author of the Pilgrim's Progress^ 
 
10 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 But althougn we are accustomed to associate 
 the town of Bedford with the name of Bunyan, 
 he was not a native of that place, but of Elstow, 
 a small village about a mile distant, where he 
 was born in the year 1628, in the humble dwell- 
 ing which is represented in our engraving. 
 
 Of Bunyan's early history, except his spirit- 
 ual experience, of which he has left a faithful 
 and ample record, little can now be ascertained. 
 Had he dreamed, observes Dr. Southey, of 
 being for ever known, and taking his place 
 among those who may be called the immortals 
 of the earth, he would probably have given us 
 more details of his temporal circumstances and 
 the events of his life ; but glorious dreamer though 
 he was, this never entered into his imaginings. 
 
 Of his parentage he says, " My descent was 
 of a low and inconsiderable generation, my 
 father's house being of that rank that is meanest 
 and most despised of all the families in the land." 
 His father was a tinker, and brought up his sons, 
 of whom he had several, to the same business ; but 
 he was not, as some have supposed, one of those 
 itinerant repairers of dilapidated pots and kettles, 
 called gipsies. He had a settled habitation, and 
 though poor was honest, and bore a fair character. 
 
 Bunyan records, with gratitude, that his pa- 
 rents, " notwithstanding their meanness and in- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 11 
 
 considerableness," sent him to school, "to learn 
 both to read and write, the which," he adds, " I also 
 attained according to the rate of other poor men's 
 children, though, to my shame I confess, I did 
 soon lose that little I learnt, even almost utterly." 
 
 At what school he was placed we are not 
 told. Mr. Philip suggests that it may have been 
 the grammar school founded at Bedford in 1556, 
 by Sir W. Harpur, (mayor of London,) for teach- 
 ing " grammar and good manners," and which 
 was then open to the children of the poor. 
 
 " But if Bunyan was educated at the Harpur 
 school, he certainly djd not learn ' good man- 
 ners? whatever ' grammar' he acquired there." 
 Associating with vile companions, he was early 
 initiated into profaneness, and soon became a 
 sort of ringleader in all kinds of boyish vice and 
 ungodliness ; so that, as he tells us, " from a 
 child he had but few equals, considering his 
 years, for cursing, swearing, lying, and blas- 
 pheming the holy name of God ; yea," he adds, 
 " so settled and rooted was I in these things, 
 that they became as a second nature to me." 
 
 Whether his parents took any pains to check 
 his vicious propensities, we cannot tell ; but 
 that by some persons, if not by them, he was 
 faithfully warned of the consequences of his bad 
 conduct, is evident from his early compunctions 
 
12 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 of conscience, and the terrific visions which 
 haunted his nightly slumbers. " Even in my 
 childhood," he says, " the Lord did scare and af- 
 frighten me with fearful dreams, and did terrify 
 me with fearful visions. For often, after I have 
 spent this and the other day in sin, I have in 
 my bed been greatly afflicted, while asleep, 
 with the apprehensions of devils and wicked 
 spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured to 
 draw me away with them, of which I could never 
 be rid. Also I should at these years be greatly 
 afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the 
 fearful torments of hell-fire, still fearing that it 
 would be my lot to be found at last among those 
 devils and hellish fiends who are there bound 
 down with the chains and bonds of darkness, 
 unto the judgment of the great day. 
 
 " These things, I say, when I was but a 
 child, but nine or ten years old, did so distress 
 my soul, that then, in the. midst of my many 
 sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain 
 companions, I was often much cast down, and 
 afflicted in my mind therewith, yet I could not 
 let go my sins : yea, I was also then so over- 
 come with despair of life and heaven, that I 
 should often wish, either that there had been no 
 hell, or that I had been a devil ; supposing that 
 they were only tormentors ; that if it must needs 
 
life or John bunyan. 13 
 
 be that I went thither, I might rather be a tor- 
 mentor than be tormented myself." 
 
 Some of the terrible dreams by which Bunyan's 
 conscience was aroused and alarmed are related 
 in the old Memoir. " Once he dreamed he saw 
 the face of the heavens, as it were, all on fire, 
 the firmament crackling and shivering as with 
 the noise of mighty thunders, and an archangel 
 ilew in the midst of heaven sounding a trumpet, 
 and a glorious throne was seated in the east, 
 whereon sat one in brightness like the morning 
 star ; upon which he, thinking it was the end 
 of the world, fell upon his knees, and, with up- 
 lifted hands toward heaven, cried, ' O Lord God, 
 have mercy upon me ! what shall I do ! the day 
 of judgment is come, and I am not prepared !' 
 when immediately he heard a voice behind him, 
 exceeding loud, saying, ' Repent ;' and upon 
 this he awoke, and found it but a dream. Yet, 
 as he said, upon this he grew more serious, and 
 it remained in his mind a considerable time. 
 
 " At another 'time he dreamed that he was in 
 a pleasant place, jovial and rioting, banqueting 
 and feasting his senses, when immediately a 
 mighty earthquake rent the earth, and made a 
 wide gap, out of which came bloody flames, and 
 the figures of men tossed up in globes of fire, 
 and falling down again with horrible cries, 
 
14 LIFE OF JOHN BUN VAN. 
 
 shrieks, and execrations, while some devils that 
 were with them laughed aloud at their torment ; 
 and while he stood trembling at this sight, he 
 thought the earth sunk under him, and a circle 
 of flame enclosed him ; but when he fancied he 
 was just at the point to perish, one in white 
 shining raiment descended and plucked him out 
 of that dreadful place, while devils cried after 
 him to leave him with them, to take the just 
 punishment his sins had deserved ; yet he es- 
 caped the danger, and leaped for joy when he 
 awoke and found it but a dream. Many others, 
 somewhat to the same purpose, I might men- 
 tion, as he at sundry times related them ; but, 
 not to be tedious, these for a taste may suffice."* 
 
 Such visions could not fail to make a strong 
 impression on a mind so excitable as Bunyan's, 
 and it is not unlikely that they suggested to him, 
 in after years, the idea of representing the story 
 of his pilgrim "under the similitude of a dream." 
 
 The immediate moral effect produced by these 
 dreams was, however, both small and transient ; 
 and when, after awhile, they left him, and his 
 apprehensions of future punishment wore off, he 
 
 * It is highly probable that the dream which Bunyan 
 put into the mouth of the man in the chamber at the 
 44 Interpreter's house," is, with perhaps some variations, 
 a relation of one of his own youthful visions. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 15 
 
 let loose to the reins of his vicious habits, and 
 followed after sin with more greediness than 
 ever. He says of himself, " In these days the 
 thoughts of religion were very grievous to me ; 
 I could neither endure it myself, nor that any 
 other should ; so that when I have seen some 
 read in those books that concerned Christian 
 piety, it would be as it were a prison to me. 
 Then I said unto God, ' Depart from me, for I 
 desire not the knowledge of thy ways.' I was 
 now void of all good consideration ; heaven and 
 hell were both out of sight and mind ; and as 
 for saving and damning, they were least in my 
 thoughts. Yea, such prevalency had the lusts 
 of the flesh on this poor soul of mine, that had 
 not a miracle of grace prevented, I had not only 
 perished by the stroke of eternal justice, but 
 had also laid myself open, even to the stroke of 
 those laws which bring some to disgrace and 
 open shame before the world. 
 
 " But this I well remember, that though I 
 could myself sin with the greatest delight and 
 ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of 
 my companions, yet, even then, if I had at any 
 time seen wicked things by those who profess- 
 ed godliness, it would make my spirit tremble. 
 As once above all the rest, when I was in the 
 height of my vanity, yet hearing one swear, that 
 
16 LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAft. 
 
 was reckoned a religious man, it had so great, a 
 stroke upon my spirit that it made my heart ache. 
 
 " But God did not utterly leave me, but fol- 
 lowed me still, not with convictions, but with 
 judgments ; yet such as were mixed with 
 mercy, For once I fell into a creek of the sea, 
 and hardly escaped drowning. Another time I 
 fell out of a boat into Bedford River, but mercy 
 yet preserved me alive. Besides, another time, 
 being in the field with one of my companions, 
 it chanced that an adder passed over the high- 
 way ; so I, having a stick in my hand, struck 
 her over the back ; and, having stunned her, I 
 forced open her mouth with my stick, and pluck- 
 ed her sting out with my fingers ; by which act, 
 had not God been merciful unto me, I might, by 
 my desperateness, have brought myself to my end. 
 
 " Here, as I said, were judgments and mercy, 
 but neither of them did awaken my soul to 
 righteousness ; wherefore I sinned still, and 
 grew more and more rebellious against God, 
 and careless of my own salvation." 
 
 Some of Bunyan's biographers are exceed- 
 ingly anxious to convey the impression that he 
 was not, in the days of his folly, so bad as he 
 represents himself to have been. This is espe- 
 cially the case with Dr. Southey, who says, 
 " The wickedness of the tinker has been greatly 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 17 
 
 overcharged ; and it is taking the language of 
 self-accusation too literally, to pronounce of John 
 Bunyan that he was at any time depraved. — 
 His self-accusations are to be received with 
 some distrust, not of his sincerity, but of his 
 sober judgment. The worst of what he was in 
 his worst days is to be expressed in a single 
 word, for which we have no synonyme, and the 
 full meaning of which no circumlocution can 
 convey, — in a word, he had been a blackguard: — 
 
 * The very head and front of his offending 
 Hath this extent, no more.' 
 
 Such he might have been expected to be by his 
 birth, breeding, and vocation ; scarcely indeed 
 by possibility could he have been otherwise ; 
 but he was never a vicious man. — The practice 
 of profane swearing was the worst, if not the 
 only sin to which he was ever addicted." 
 
 We are surprised that this passage should 
 have been written in the face of Bunyan's ex- 
 press declaration that he " had but few equals," 
 not only for " cursing arid swearing," but also for 
 lying; and the well-known fact that he was an open 
 and notorious sabbath breaker; for unsound as are 
 the laureate's opinions on some of the cardinal 
 doctrines of Christianity, it cannot be that his 
 code of morals is so loose as not to include lying 
 and sabbath breaking in its catalogue of vices. 
 
18 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 We can discover in what Bunyan relates of 
 himself, before his conversion, no appearance 
 of a desire to exaggerate his wickedness ; his> 
 language is evidently that of a man who was 
 conscious he was writing the words- of truth and 
 soberness. It is true that he was never, in the 
 gross sense of the word, licentious ; neither does 
 he charge himself with this sin; on the contrary 
 he zealously and characteristically defends him" 
 self from its imputation. That he did, however, 
 in the vices to which he was addicted, acquire 
 a bad pre-eminence among his fellow-sinners, 
 is not only certain from his own declarations r 
 but was also to "have, been expected from his 
 bold and ardent temperament,, and the natural 
 energy of his character, which were such that 
 he was not likely to content himself with medi- 
 ocrity in anything, good or bad, that he engaged 
 in. We give full credence, therefore, to Bun- 
 yan's account of his youthful depravity ; and 
 instead of endeavouring to palliate his miscon- 
 duct, we would rather adore the riches of His 
 grace, who, from such a depth of mental and 
 moral degradation, raised him up to become one 
 of the brightest luminaries of the Christian 
 church. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BUNYAN IN THE ARMY : HIS MARRIAGE, AND 
 OUTWARD REFORMATION. 
 
 It was Bunyan's lot to fall upon troublous 
 times. The civil war between Charles I. and 
 the parliament broke out about the period of his 
 life at which we have now arrived, — just as he 
 was growing up to manhood. A youth of his 
 bold and reckless character could not be ex- 
 pected to remain an idle spectator of this excit- 
 ing struggle ; and accordingly we find that he 
 enlisted as a soldier, and joined the parliament- 
 ary forces, when he was only seventeen years 
 of age. 
 
 While he was in the army he experienced a 
 merciful interposition of Providence, which he 
 relates in the following words : — " This also I 
 have taken notice of with thanksgiving : when 
 I was a soldier, I, with others, were drawn out 
 to go to such a place to besiege it ; but when I 
 was just ready to go, one of the company de- 
 sired to go in my room ; to which, when I had 
 consented, he took my place ; and coming to 
 the siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot in 
 the head with a musket bullet, and died." 
 
20 LIFE OF JOHxN BUNYAN. 
 
 Bunyan does not specify where this toofc 
 place, but the information is supplied by tfo* 
 author of the old Memoir already referred to 
 who says, " He often acknowledged, with up 
 lifted hands and eyes, a wonderful providence 
 for in June, 1645, being at»the siege of Leices 
 ter, he was called out to be one [of a party] 
 who should make a violent attack on the town, 
 [which was then] vigorously defended by the 
 king's forces against the parliamentarians. He 
 appearing to the officer to be somewhat awk- 
 ward in handling his arms, another man volun- 
 tarily thrust himself into his place." 
 
 At this time Bunyan was only seventeen, and 
 his youth, as well as the fact of his being but 
 a raw recruit, sufficiently accounts for the awk- 
 wardness which appears to have been the indi- 
 rect means of saving his life. 
 
 His period of military service was short ; 
 probably less than two years. Soon after quit- 
 ting the army, and while he was yet very 
 young, it is supposed before he was nineteen, 
 he entered into the marriage state ; and his 
 " mercy was," he tells us, " to light upon a 
 wife whose father was counted godly." This 
 step, as we learn from his earliest biographer, 
 was advised by his friends, who " thought that 
 changing his condition to the married state 
 
LiFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 21 
 
 might reform him, and therefore urged him to 
 it as a seasonable and comfortable advantage. 
 But the difficult thing was, that his poverty, and 
 irregular course of life, made it very difficult for 
 him to get a wife suitable to his inclination : 
 and because none of the rich would yield to his 
 solicitations, he found himself constrained to 
 marry one without any fortune." As it respects 
 " fortune," she seems to have been about on a 
 par with her husband, who says, " We came 
 together as poor as poor might be, not having 
 so much household stuff as a dish or a spoon 
 between us." But it will be asked, How came 
 a virtuous woman, who had been religiously 
 educated, to marry such a man as Bunyan ; and 
 what prospect could she have had of either 
 happiness or comfort with him ? In reply to 
 this question it should be remarked, that Bun- 
 yan, in his worst state, does not appear to have 
 been either an idle, a malicious, or a dishonest 
 man ; nor was he as conscience-hardened as 
 many less notorious sinners. Besides, as it 
 was a hope of his reformation that encouraged 
 his friends to bring about the match, so it is not 
 unlikely that she was in some degree influ- 
 enced by the same motive in uniting her lot 
 with his. Certain it is, that his career of vice 
 received a considerable check in consequence 
 
22 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 of his marriage, which may very justly be re- 
 garded as the first step toward his conversion. 
 It should be remarked, too, that at this time 
 Mrs. Bunyan, though strictly moral, does not 
 appear to have known much of experimental 
 piety. 
 
 The sole portion, besides herself, which Bun- 
 yan's wife brought to her husband was two 
 books, " The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," 
 and " The Practice of Piety,"* which she 
 inherited from her father, — and which " she 
 frequently enticed her husband to read, and apply 
 the use of them to the reforming his manners, 
 and saving his soul." — (Old Memoir.) Bunyan 
 himself says, " In these two books I shouldf 
 
 * These two works appear to have been the most 
 popular religious books of the day. Richard Baxter, who 
 was contemporary with Bunyan, mentions as one of the 
 characteristics of those pious persons who in that day 
 were stigmatized as Puritans, that " they read the Scrip, 
 tures, and such books as ' The Practice of Piety,' Dent's 
 'Plain Man's Pathway,' and ' Dod on the Command- 
 ments,' &c." Of " The Practice of Piety," which was 
 written by Bayley, bishop of Bangor, fifty editions, as we 
 are informed by Southey, were published in the course 
 of a hundred years ; and it was also translated into 
 "Welsh, (the author's native language,) into Hungarian, 
 and into Polish. 
 
 t Bunyan uses the word " should" in the sense of 
 would, — a practice which was once common in some 
 
XrlFE OF JOHN BUNYAN- 23 
 
 sometimes read with* her, wherein I also 
 found some things that were somewhat pleasing 
 to me ; but all this while I met with no con- 
 viction. She also would be often telling me of 
 what a godly man her father was ; and how he 
 would reprove and correct vice, both in his 
 house and among his neighbours \ and what a 
 strict and holy life he led in his days, both in 
 word and deed." 
 
 The reading of these books, the admonitions 
 of his wife, and her frequent references to the 
 piety of her father, had a winning influence 
 upon Bunyan, who says, " Though they did not 
 reach my heart, to awaken it about my sad and 
 sinful state, yet they did beget within me some 
 desires to reform my vicious life, aud fall in very 
 eagerly with the religion of the times ; to wit, 
 to go to church twice a day, and that too with 
 
 parts of England. The reader will bear this in mind in 
 reading our quotations from Bunyan. 
 
 * Without her he would probably have been unable 
 to read them. The old Memoir says, " To the voice of 
 his wife he hearkened, and by that means recovered his 
 reading, which, not minding before, he had almost lost." 
 This agrees with Bunyan's own statement, when speak- 
 ing of his being sent by his parents to school, — " I did 
 soon lose that little I learnt, even almost utterly, and that 
 long before the Lord did work his gracious work of con. 
 version upon my soul." 
 
24 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the foremost ; and there very devoutly say and 
 sing, as others did, yet retaining my wicked 
 life ; but withal I was so overrun with the spi- 
 rit of superstition, that I adored, and that with 
 great devotion, even all things — both the high 
 place, [pulpit,] priest, clerk, vestment, service, 
 and what else — belonging to the church ; count- 
 ing all things holy that were therein contained, 
 and especially the priest and clerk most happy, 
 and without doubt greatly blessed, because they 
 were the servants, as I then thought, of God, 
 and were principal in his holy temple to do his 
 work therein. 
 
 " This conceit grew so strong in a little time 
 upon my spirit, that had I but seen a priest, 
 (though never so sordid and debauched in his 
 life,) I should find my spirit fall under him, 
 reverence him, and knit unto him ; yea, I 
 thought, for the love I did bear unto them, 
 (supposing they were the ministers of God,) I 
 could have laid down at their feet, and have 
 been trampled on by them ; their name, their 
 garb, and work did so intoxicate and bewitch 
 me.* 
 
 * This is precisely the feeling of abject reverence with 
 which the priest of the Romish Church is regarded by 
 the common people in Popish countries ; and if at this 
 period of his life, when his imagination was so much 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 25 
 
 " But all this while I was not sensible of the 
 danger and evil of sin ; I was kept from consi- 
 dering that sin would damn me, what religion 
 soever I followed, unless I was found in Christ ; 
 nay, I never thought of him, nor whether there 
 was such an one or no. Thus man while blind 
 doth wander, but wearieth himself with vanity, 
 for he knoweth not the way to the city of God." 
 
 Bunyan ? s utter ignorance, at this period, of 
 the nature of true religion would seem to indi- 
 cate, either that his minister was not very evan- 
 gelical in his discourses, or else that he himself 
 was not a very attentive hearer. The latter is 
 the more probable supposition, for the Presby- 
 terians were then the dominant sect, and filled 
 nearly all the parish churches ; and they were 
 no^ accustomed to inculcate a superstitious reve- 
 rence for outward things and mere ceremonies, 
 or likely to leave an attentive hearer in entire 
 ignorance of the way of salvation. Doubtless 
 there were among them, as is generally the 
 
 stronger than his judgment, and his mind had not emerged 
 from the grossest ignorance, Bunyan had been thrown 
 in the way of an artful emissary of that church, it is pro- 
 bable that he would have been inextricably entangled in 
 the toils of superstition. His moral and intellectual pro- 
 gress would have terminated at the Giant's Cave. — 
 Conder's Life, p. xx. 
 
26 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 case in churches established by law, some hy- 
 pocritical pretenders, who, having entered " the 
 priest's office for a morsel of bread," were ready 
 to accommodate their doctrines to the tastes 
 and wishes of their hearers ; but the minister 
 of Elstow could scarcely have been one of this 
 class, for we find him zealously inveighing 
 against sabbath breaking — perhaps the most 
 popular and crying sin of the day. 
 
 Now Bunyan was passionately fond of the 
 various sports and games with which the Eng- 
 lish peasantry were then in the habit of dese- 
 crating the holy sabbath ; and when his minis- 
 ter set forth the sinfulness of breaking that sa- 
 cred day, either by labour, sports, or otherwise, 
 his conscience was smitten ; for the first time 
 in his life he " felt what guilt was," and Jie 
 " went home," he tells us, " when the sermon 
 was ended, with a great burden on his spirit." 
 
 But this feeling did not last long. " Before 
 I had dined," he says, " the trouble began to go 
 off my mind, and my heart returned to its old 
 course. — Wherefore, when I had satisfied na- 
 ture with my food, I shook the sermon out of 
 my mind, and to my old custom of sports and 
 gaming I returned with great delight. 
 
 " But the same day, as I was in the midst of 
 a game of cat, and having struck it one blow 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 27 
 
 from the hole, just as I was about to strike it 
 the second time, a voice did suddenly dart from 
 heaven into my soul, which said, ' Wilt thou 
 leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have thy 
 sins and go to hell V At this I was put to an 
 exceeding amaze ; wherefore, leaving my cat 
 upon the ground, I looked up to heaven, and was 
 as if I had, with the eyes of my understanding, 
 seen the Lord Jesus looking down upon me, as 
 being very hotly displeased with me, and as if he 
 did severely threaten me with some grievous pun- 
 ishment for these and other ungodly practices." 
 At this moment a suggestion of the evil one 
 suddenly fastened upon his mind, and he was 
 tempted to conclude that it was too late for him 
 to seek after heaven ; that he had been so great 
 and grievous a sinner that Christ would not for- 
 gh* his transgressions. " Then," he says, " I 
 fell to musing on this also ; and while I was 
 thinking of it, and fearing lest it should be so, 
 I felt my heart sink in despair, concluding it 
 was too late ; and therefore I resolved in my 
 mind to go on in sin : for, thought I, if the case 
 be thus, my state is surely miserable — misera- 
 ble if I leave my sins, and but miserable if I 
 follow them ; I can but be damned, and if I 
 must be so, I had as good be damned for many 
 sins as for few. 
 
28 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " Thus I stood in the midst of my play, before 
 all that then were present ; but yet I told them 
 nothing; but, I say, having made this conclusion, 
 I returned desperately to my sport again, and I 
 well remember, that presently this kind of de- 
 spair did so possess my soul, that I was persuaded 
 I could never attain to other comfort than what I 
 should get in sin ; for heaven was gone already, 
 so that on that I must not think. Wherefore I 
 found within me great desire to have my fill of 
 sin ; and I made as much haste as I could to 
 fill myself with its delicacies, lest I should die 
 before I had my desires ; for that I feared 
 greatly. In these things, I protest before God 
 I lie not, neither do I frame this sort of speech ; 
 these were really, strongly, and with all my 
 heart, my desires. The good Lord, whose 
 mercy is unsearchable, forgive my transgres- 
 sions !" 
 
 In this state of mind he continued for about 
 a month, when the incident occurred which is 
 commonly supposed to have been the main 
 cause of his conversion, though, as Mr. St. 
 John remarks, it was in reality only one link 
 in the chain of circumstances leading to that 
 event. " One day," says Bunyan, " as I was 
 standing at a neighbour's shop window, and there 
 cursing and swearing, and playing the madman, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 29 
 
 after my wonted manner, there sat within the 
 woman of the house, and heard me ; who, 
 though she was a very loose and ungodly 
 wretch, yet protested that I swore and cursed 
 at the most ungodly rate ; that she was made 
 to tremble to hear me ; and told me further, that 
 I was the ungodliest fellow for swearing that 
 she ever heard in all her life ; and that I by 
 thus doing was able to spoil all the youth in 
 the whole town, if they came but in my com- 
 pany." She also admonished the young men 
 who were with him to shun his conversation, or 
 he would make them as bad as himself.* 
 
 This severe rebuke, coming from such an 
 unexpected quarter, was not lost upon Bunyan, 
 who says, " At this reproof I was silenced, and 
 put to secret shame ; and that too, as I thought, 
 before the God of heaven ; wherefore, while I 
 stood there, and hanging down my head, I 
 
 * Somewhat similar to this was the remarkable cir- 
 cumstance in the life of Mr. Perkins, an able minister 
 of the gospel, who, while a student at Cambridge, was a 
 great drunkard. As he was walking in the skirts of the 
 town, he heard a woman say to a child that was froward 
 and peevish, " Hold your tongue, or I will give you to 
 drunken Perkins yonder." Finding himself become a 
 by-word among the people, his conscience was deeply 
 impressed, and this was the first step toward his conver- 
 sion. — Tvimey. 
 
30 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 wished with all my heart that I might be a lit- 
 tle child again, that my father might teach me 
 to speak without this wicked way of swearing; 
 for, thought I, I am so accustomed to it, that it 
 is in vain for me to think of a reformation, for I 
 thought that could never be. 
 
 " But how it came to pass I know not ; I did 
 from this time forward so leave my swearing, 
 that it was a great wonder to myself to observe 
 it ; and whereas, before, I knew not how to 
 speak unless I put an oath before, and another 
 behind, to make my words have authority ; now 
 I could, without it, speak better and with more 
 pleasantness than ever I could before. All this 
 while I knew not Jesus Christ, neither did I 
 leave my sports and plays." 
 
 The next step in his reformation was his 
 taking delight in reading the word of God, to 
 which he was led by the conversation of a poor 
 man who made a profession of religion ; and 
 " who," says Bunyan, " as I then thought, did 
 talk pleasantly of the Scriptures, and of the mat- 
 ter of religion ; wherefore, falling into some 
 love and liking to what he said, I betook me to 
 my Bible, and began to take great pleasure in 
 reading." His favourite portions of Scripture 
 at this time were the historical books : for St. 
 Paul's Epistles he had no relish whatever : he 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 31 
 
 11 could not away with them," he says, for he 
 was as yet ignorant of the corruption of his 
 nature, and his need of a Saviour. 
 
 His reading, however, was not unproductive 
 of good, for it occasioned some further reforma- 
 tion both of his language and conduct. He now 
 set the commandments before him as the rule 
 of his life and the way to heaven. These com- 
 mandments he strove to keep, and, as he thought, 
 " did keep them pretty well sometimes," and 
 then he felt encouraged and comforted. " Yet 
 now and then," he says, " I should break one, 
 and so afflict my conscience. But then I should 
 repent, and say I was sorry for it, and promise 
 God to do better ; and there got help again ; for 
 then I thought I pleased God as well as any 
 man in England." 
 
 In this way he continued about a year, during 
 which time he was considered to be a very 
 godly and religious man by his neighbours, 
 who, says Bunyan " were amazed at this my 
 great conversion from prodigious profaneness to 
 something like a moral life ; for this my con- 
 version was as great as for Tom of Bedlam to 
 become a sober man. Now therefore they be- 
 gan to praise, to commend, and to speak well 
 of me, both to my face and behind my back. 
 Now I was, as they said, become godly ; now 
 
32 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 I was become a right honest man. But O ! 
 when I understood those were their words and 
 opinions of me, it pleased me mighty well. 
 For though as yet I was nothing but a poor 
 painted hypocrite, yet I loved to be talked of as 
 one that was truly godly. I was proud of my 
 godliness, and indeed I did 'all I did either to 
 be seen of, or to be spoken well of by men." 
 
 We can readily conceive Bunyan's gratifica- 
 tion at hearing the commendations of his neigh- 
 bours on his change of conduct. It was quite 
 natural that he should be, as he expresses it, 
 " mighty well" pleased ; for to be thought and 
 spoken well of was a new as well as pleasant 
 thing to one who had hitherto been almost a 
 by-word for profanity and wickedness. 
 
 Mr. Philip, at this point, very happily reminds 
 his readers of one who must have been no small 
 partaker of this joy : he carries them, in imagi- 
 nation, to the tinker's fireside, and pictures the 
 rapture which his wife must have felt in wit- 
 nessing the progress of that reformation which 
 she, in the providence of God, appears to have 
 been the chief instrument in producing. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BUNYAN'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE : DIFFICUL- 
 TIES ABOUT FAITH, ELECTION, ETC. 
 
 Bunyan had formerly taken great delight in 
 ringing ; but now that his " conscience began 
 to be tender," he thought it a vain practice, and 
 forced himself to leave it : " yet," he says, " my 
 mind hankered ; wherefore I would now go to 
 the steeple-house* and look on, though I durst 
 not ring ; but I thought this did not become re- 
 ligion neither ; yet I forced myself, and would 
 look on still ; but quickly after I began to think, 
 How if one of the bells should fall ? Then I 
 chose to stand under a main beam, that lay 
 athwart the steeple, from side to side, thinking 
 here I might stand sure ; but then I thought 
 again, should the bell fall with a swing, it might 
 first hit the wall, and then, rebounding upon me, 
 might kill me, for all this beam. This made me 
 stand in the steeple door ; and now, thought I, 
 I am safe enough ; for if the bell should then 
 fall, I can slip out between these thick walls, 
 
 * The " steeple-house," or belfry of Elstow church, 
 contrary to the general practice, stood apart from the 
 main building. See the note on page 331. 
 3 
 
34 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 and so be preserved notwithstanding. So afleT 
 this I would yet go to see them ring, but would 
 not go further than the steeple door ; but then 
 it came into my head, How if the steeple itself 
 should fall ? And this thought did continually so 
 shake my mind, that I durst not stand at the 
 steeple door any longer, but was forced to flee, 
 for fear the steeple should fall upon my head."* 
 
 * Most of the parish churches in England have what 
 is called a " peal of bells'* in the steeple, which are rang 
 at stated times, and on occasions of public rejoicing. 
 With their gladsome music the sabbath is commonly 
 ushered in— a custom which is alluded to in the well- 
 known poem by the pious and excellent vicar of Harrow, 
 commencing, — 
 
 " I love the sabbath morn to come, 
 
 When village bells awake the day ; 
 And by their sacred minstrelsy 
 Call me from earthly cares away." 
 
 But what harm, it may be asked, is there in all this, that 
 Bunyan should feel any scruples of conscience in regard 
 to it 1 If the ringers were a company of truly pious indi- 
 viduals, whose hearts ascended in grateful praises to their 
 Maker, in harmony with the joyous sounds with which 
 they hailed the sacred day of rest, there might be no 
 more objection to the bells in the steeple than ■ to the 
 organ in the church. But this, we presume, is rarely the 
 case. The ringers are seldom the most sober or godly 
 persons in the parish. Bunyan instinctively felt that 
 neither the company nor the conversation in the belfry 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 35 
 
 Another of the amusements which Bunyan 
 found it hard to relinquish was his dancing. 
 " I was full a year," he says, " before I could 
 quite leave that; but all this while, when I 
 thought I kept this or that commandment, or did 
 anything that I thought was good, I had great 
 peace in my conscience ; and should think with 
 myself, God cannot but be now pleased with 
 me ; yea, to relate it in mine own way, I thought 
 no man in England could please God better 
 than I. But, poor wretch as I was, I was all 
 this while ignorant of Jesus Christ, and going 
 aboutjto establish my own righteousness, and 
 had perished therein, had not God in mercy 
 showed me more of my state by nature." 
 
 From this self-righteous delusion he was 
 awakened by hearing a few pious females con- 
 versing on the subject of religion. We give 
 the narration in his own words : — " Upon a day 
 the good providence of God called me to Bed- 
 ford to work at my calling ; and in one of the 
 streets of that town I came where there were 
 three or four poor women sitting at a door, in 
 
 at Elstovv would be likely to edify a soul labouring under 
 conviction of sin. He knew too well the character of the 
 men. What they were we may judge from the fact that 
 he, in his worst days, was one of them ; and most likely 
 a fair sample of the rest. 
 
36 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the sun, talking about the things of God ; and 
 being now willing to hear their discourse, I 
 drew near to hear what they said, (for I was 
 now a brisk talker of myself in the matter of 
 religion,) but I may say I heard but understood 
 not, for they were far above — out of my reach. 
 Their talk was about a new birth, the work of 
 God in their hearts, as also how they were con- 
 vinced of their miserable state by nature. They 
 talked how God had visited their souls with his 
 love in the Lord Jesus, and with what words 
 and promises they had been refreshed, com- 
 forted, and supported against the temptations of 
 the devil. Moreover, they reasoned of the sug- 
 gestions and temptations of Satan in particular ; 
 and told to each other by what means they had 
 been afflicted, and how they were borne up 
 under his assaults. They also discoursed of 
 their own wretchedness of heart, and of their 
 unbelief; and did contemn, slight, and abhor 
 their own righteousness as filthy, and insuffi- 
 cient to do them any good. 
 
 " And methought they spake as if joy did 
 make them speak ; they spake with such plea- 
 santness of Scripture language, and with such 
 appearance of grace in all they said, that they 
 were to me as if they had found a new world ; 
 as if they were people that dwelt alone, and 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 37 
 
 were not to be reckoned among their neigh- 
 bours. 
 
 " At this I felt my own heart began to shake, 
 and mistrust my condition to be naught ; for I 
 saw that in all my thoughts about religion and 
 salvation the new birth did never enter into my 
 mind ; neither knew I the comfort of the word 
 and promise, nor the deceitfulness and treachery 
 of my own wicked heart. As for secret thoughts, 
 I took no notice of them ; neither did I under- 
 stand what Satan's temptations were, nor how 
 they were to be withstood and resisted." 
 
 When he left this little company, to go about 
 his employment, their talk and discourse went 
 with him, while his heart tarried behind ; " for," 
 he says, " I was greatly affected with their 
 words, both because by them I was convinced 
 that I wanted the true tokens of a truly godly 
 man, and also because by them I was convinced 
 of the happy and blessed condition of him that 
 was such an one." 
 
 Bunyan began from this time to seek the 
 company of these pious women. He could not, 
 he tells us, stay away> and the more he went 
 among them the more he questioned his own 
 state, and the more his heart was softened 
 "under the conviction of what by Scripture 
 they asserted." His mind was now so intent 
 
38 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 on spiritual and eternal things, that " neither 
 pleasures, nor profits, nor persuasions, nor 
 threats could make it let go its hold ; — it would 
 then," he says, u have been as difficult for me 
 to have taken my mind from heaven to earth, 
 as I have found it often since to get it again 
 from earth to heaven." 
 
 But with all this tenderness of heart and 
 conscience, and absorbing interest in spiritual 
 things, Bunyan was still, as respects Christian 
 doctrine, a mere babe in knowledge ; nor were 
 his present companions, pious and godly though 
 they were, and profitable as their conversation 
 had been to him, qualified to become his spirit- 
 ual instructers ; he was consequently in great 
 danger of being led out of the way by some one 
 of the numerous sects of fanatics which sprung 
 up in England in this period of civil and reli- 
 gious commotion. One of the worst of these 
 sects was the Ranters — " a set," says Mr. Scott, 
 " of the vilest Antinomians that almost ever ex- 
 isted."* Some of their publications, " which 
 
 * " They made it their business," says Baxter, " to set 
 up the light of nature, in men, under the name of Christ, 
 and to dishonour and cry down the church, the Scrip. 
 ture, the present ministry, and our worship and ordi- 
 nances. They called men to hearken to Christ within 
 them ; but withal, they enjoined a cursed doctrine of 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. | 39 
 
 were highly in esteem by several old profes- 
 sors," fell about this time into Bunyan's hands, 
 and their specious sophistries appear to have 
 caused him no little perplexity ; he could not, 
 he says, " make a judgment about them." He 
 probably felt himself unable to answer their 
 arguments, and was unwilling to embrace their 
 sentiments. Distrusting his own wisdom, he 
 wisely sought that " which is from above," and 
 betook himself to hearty prayer in this manner : 
 " O Lord, I am a fool, and not able to know the 
 truth from error : Lord, leave me not to my own 
 blindness, either to approve of or condemn this 
 doctrine ; if it be of God, let me not despise it ; 
 if it be of the devil, let me not embrace it. 
 Lord, I lay my soul in this matter only at thy 
 
 libertinism, which brought them all to abominable filthi- 
 ness of life. They taught that God regardeth not the 
 actions of the outward man, but of the heart ; and that 
 to the pure all things are pure, even things forbidden ; 
 and so, as allowed by God, they spake most hideous 
 words of blasphemy, &c. I have seen myself, letters 
 written from Abingdon, where, among both soldiers and 
 people, this contagion did then prevail, full of horrid 
 oaths, curses, and blasphemy, not fit to be repeated by 
 the tongue or pen of man ; and these all uttered as the 
 effect of knowledge, and a part of their religion, in a 
 fanatic strain, and fathered on the Spirit of God. But 
 the horrid villanies of this sect did speedily extinguish it." 
 
40 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 loot, let me not be deceived, I humbly beseech 
 thee." Such a prayer, offered in sincerity and 
 faith, could not be denied. " Blessed be God," 
 continues Bunyan, " who put it into my heart to 
 cry to him to be kept and directed, still distrust- 
 ing mine own wisdom ; for I have since seen 
 even the effects of that prayer, in his preserving 
 me, not only from ranting errors, but from those 
 also that have sprung up since." 
 
 Bunyan's danger from this seducing and fatal 
 heresy was rendered the more imminent from the 
 fact, that it had been embraced by his " intimate 
 religious companion," — the poor man whose 
 " pleasant talk of the Scriptures" had first led 
 him "into some love and liking of religion." 
 But this man, going on from bad to worse, soon, 
 by the looseness of his life, became a warning 
 rather than a snare. He gave himself up to all 
 manner of iniquity ; denied that there was a 
 God, angel, or spirit, and laughed at all ex- 
 hortations to sobriety. " When I laboured to 
 rebuke his wickedness," says Bunyan, " he 
 would laugh the more, and pretend that he had 
 gone through all religions, and could, never hit 
 upon the right till now. He told me also, that 
 in a little time I should see all professors turn 
 to the ways of the Ranters. Wherefore, abomi- 
 nating their cursed principles, I left his com- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 41 
 
 pany forthwith, and became to him as great a 
 stranger as I- had been before a familiar." 
 
 But this man was not Bunyan's only tempta- 
 tion. His calling frequently led him into the 
 country, where he was often thrown into the. 
 company of persons who were once strict in 
 religion, but had been drawn away by the 
 Ranters. " These," he says, " would also talk 
 with me of their ways, and condemn me as legal 
 and dark ; pretending that they only had attain- 
 ed to perfection that could do what they would 
 and not sin. O ! these temptations were suita- 
 ble to my flesh, I being but a young man ; but 
 God, who had, as I hoped, designed me for better 
 things, kept me in the fear of his name, and did 
 not suffer me to embrace such cursed principles." 
 
 He now took increased delight in the Scrip- 
 tures. " The Bible," he says, " was precious 
 to me in those days. And methought I began 
 to look into it with new eyes, and read as I 
 never did before, and especially the Epistles of 
 St. Paul were sweet and pleasant to me ; and* 
 indeed then I was never out of the Bible, either 
 by reading or meditation ; still crying out to 
 God that I might know the truth, and way to 
 heaven and glory." 
 
 Some passages of Paul's Epistles, which he 
 now read with so much attention, but without 
 
42 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 any spiritual guide or instructor, occasioned his 
 being assaulted by many sore temptations. He 
 found the apostle constantly speaking about 
 faith, and he was led to doubt whether he had 
 faith or not ; this, however, was a doubt which 
 he could not bear, being certain that if he were 
 without faith he must perish ; he therefore de- 
 termined, " at a venture," to conclude that he 
 was not altogether faithless, though he con- 
 fessed he knew not what faith was. This 
 " blind conclusion," as he calls it, did not long 
 satisfy him, — he could not rest content until he 
 had some certain knowledge, and therefore re- 
 solved to put himself on the trial, whether he 
 had faith or not. At this point, " being put to 
 a plunge about it," and having as yet opened 
 his mind on the subject to no one, " the tempt- 
 er," he says, " came in with this delusion, that 
 there was no way for me to know I had faith, but 
 by trying to work some miracles ; urging those 
 scriptures that seem to look that way for the en- 
 forcing and strengthening his temptation. Nay, 
 one day, as I was between Elstow and Bedford, 
 the temptation was hot upon me, to try .if I had 
 faith, by doing some miracle, which miracle at 
 this time was this : I must say to the puddles 
 that were in the horse-pads, ' Be dry ;' and to 
 the dry places, ' Be you puddles :' and truly one 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 43 
 
 time I was going to say so indeed ; but just as 
 I was about to speak, this thought came into 
 my mind, But go under yonder hedge and pray 
 first, that God will make you able. But when 
 I had concluded to pray, this came hot upon 
 me, that if I prayed, and came again and tried 
 to do it, and yet did nothing notwithstanding, 
 then to be sure I had no faith, but was a cast- 
 away, and lost. Nay, thought I, if it be so, I 
 will not try yet, but will stay a little longer. 
 So I continued at a great loss ; for I thought, 
 if they only had faith which could do so won- 
 derful things, then I concluded that, for the pre- 
 sent, I neither had it, nor yet for the time to come 
 were ever like to have it. Thus I Avas tossed 
 betwixt the devil and mine own ignorance, and 
 so perplexed, especially at some times, that I 
 could not tell what to do." 
 
 Bunyan evidently suspected that he had no 
 faith ; but, to use his own language, he " was 
 afraid to see his want" of it. The various sug- 
 gestions and temptations with which he was 
 now assailed he rightly attributes, in his narra- 
 tive, to the agency of the evil one ; but he was 
 not at the time aware of this. He was then 
 " ignorant of Satan's devices." 
 
 "While he was in this state of mind the hap- 
 piness of his poor friends at Bedford was pre- 
 
44 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Ik' 
 
 sented to him in a kind of vision — a waking 
 dream ; or, perhaps, during actual slumber. 
 Whether dream or revery, it made a strong 
 impression. He says, " I saw as if they were 
 on the sunny side of some high mountain, there 
 refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams 
 of the sun, while I was shivering and shrinking 
 in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark 
 clouds. Methought, also, betwixt me and them 
 I saw a wall that did compass about this mount- 
 ain : now through this wall my soul did greatly 
 desire to pass ; concluding that if I could, I 
 would even go into the very midst of them, and 
 there also comfort myself with the heat of their 
 sun. About this wall I bethought myself to go 
 again and again, still praying as I went, to see 
 if I could find some way or passage by which 
 I might enter therein ; but none could I find for 
 some time. At the last I saw, as it were, a 
 narrow gap, like a little doorway, in the wall, 
 through which I attempted to pass. Now, the 
 passage being very strait and narrow, I made 
 many offers to get in, but all in vain, even until 
 I was well nigh quite beat out, by striving to 
 get in. At last, with great striving, methought 
 I at first did get in my head ; and after that, by 
 a sideling striving, my shoulders and my whole 
 body : then I was exceeding glad, went and sat 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 45 
 
 down in the midst of them, and so was com- 
 forted with the light and heat of their sun.* 
 
 " Now this mountain and wall, &c, was thus 
 made out to me. The mountain signified the 
 church of the living God ; the sun that shone 
 thereon, the comfortable shining of his merciful 
 face on them that were therein ; the wall I 
 thought was the word, that did make separation 
 between the Christians and the world ; and the 
 gap which was in the wall, I thought was Jesus 
 Christ, who is the way to God the Father. 
 But forasmuch as the passage was wonderfully 
 narrow, even so narrow that I could not, but 
 with great difficulty, enter in thereat, it showed 
 me that none could enter into life but those that 
 were in downright earnest, and unless also they 
 left that wicked world behind them ; for here 
 was only room for body and soul, but not for 
 body, soul, and sin. 
 
 " This resemblance abode upon my spirit 
 many days ; all which time I saw myself in a 
 forlorn and sad condition, but yet was provoked 
 to a vehement hunger and desire to be one of 
 that number that did sit in the sunshine. Now 
 
 * In this vision Dr. Southey thinks " the germ of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress may plainly be perceived." May we 
 not rather say, the germinating of that imagination which 
 was afterward to ripen into genius ? — Conder, 
 
46 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 also would I pray wherever I was, whether at 
 home or abroad, in house or field ; and would 
 also often, with lifting up of heart, sing that of 
 the fifty -first psalm, ' O Lord, consider my dis- 
 tress !' for as yet I knew not where I was : 
 neither as yet could I attain to any comfortable 
 persuasion that I had faith in Christ ; but, in- 
 stead of having satisfaction here, I began to 
 find my soul to be assaulted with fresh doubts 
 about my future happiness." 
 
 These " fresh doubts" were founded chiefly 
 on the Calvinistic doctrines of unconditional 
 election and effectual calling, which he had pro- 
 bably imbibed from his Christian friends at 
 Bedford, who were members of a Baptist church 
 in that place. 
 
 He was at this time, to use his own language, 
 " in a flame to find the way to heaven and 
 glory ;" but the question, whether or not he was 
 one of the elect, so discouraged him, that at 
 times he seemed " as if the very strength of his 
 body had been taken away by the force and 
 power thereof." While his miad was harassed 
 with this question, he found a stumbling-block 
 in the following text : — " It is neither in him 
 that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God 
 that showeth mercy," Rom. ix, 16. With this 
 scripture he knew not what to do. It seemed 
 
LU-£ Of JOHN BUN VAN. 4? 
 
 to him that though he should desire, and long, 
 and labour, until his heart broke, no good could 
 come of it unless he were a chosen vessel of 
 mercy. " Therefore," he says, " this would 
 stick with me, ' How can you tell that you are 
 elected ? and what if you should not V O Lord, 
 thought I, what if I should not indeed ? ' It may 
 be you are not,' said the tempter. It may be 
 so indeed, thought I. ' Why then,' said Satan, 
 ' you had as good leave off, and strive no fur- 
 ther ; for if, indeed, you should not be elected, 
 there is no hope of your being saved.' " And 
 then the text that had perplexed him was brought 
 again to his mind ; and he, not knowing how 
 to answer these temptations, " was driven to 
 his wits' end," little thinking, he says, that it 
 was " Satan had thus assaulted him," but that 
 it was " his own prudence" that had started the 
 question ; for that none but the elect should be 
 saved, was a doctrine he had embraced without 
 scruple, but whether he " was one of them, 
 there lay the question.'''' 
 
 After he had been many weeks oppressed 
 and cast down by his doubts on this subject, 
 and when, as he tells us, he had well nigh 
 " given up the ghost of all his hopes," his mind 
 was suddenly relieved and encouraged by the 
 recollection of the following passage : — " Look 
 
48 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 at the generations of old, and see ; did ever any 
 trust in God and were confounded ?" This sub- 
 lime appeal came to his mind with such force, 
 "that it was as if it talked" with him. It 
 seemed to say, " Begin at the beginning of 
 Genesis, and read to the end of Revelation, 
 and see if you can find that there was ever any 
 that trusted in the Lord and was confounded." 
 As soon as he got home he went with a light- 
 ened heart to his Bible, to look for the text that 
 had given him such comfort, not doubting that 
 he should find it presently ; but, to his great 
 surprise, he could not find it. He then asked 
 first one good man, and then another, if they 
 could tell him where it was ; but they knew of 
 no such text : still he did not doubt that it was 
 somewhere in the Bible. It was not till more 
 than a year afterward that he met with the pas- 
 sage. He was then looking over some of the 
 Apocryphal books, and found it in Ecclesiasti- 
 cus ii, 16. At first, he says, he was somewhat 
 " daunted" at finding it in the Apocrypha ; but 
 this now troubled him the less, as by this time 
 he had acquired " more experience of the love 
 and kindness of God ;" and besides, as the pas- 
 sage contained the substance of many of the 
 divine promises,* he conceived it to be his duty 
 * Psa.ix, 10; xviii,30; xxxiv,8; Prov. xxix,25; xxx,5. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 49 
 
 to take the comfort of it, though it did not form 
 a part of the inspired volume. 
 
 This difficulty about " election" was no sooner 
 got over, than another " doubt" assaulted him : 
 " How if the day of grace is past ? How if you 
 have overstood the time of mercy ?" and, to ag- 
 gravate his trouble, the tempter presented to 
 his mind " those good people at Bedford — sug- 
 gesting that these being converted already, they 
 were all that God would save in those parts ;" 
 and that he had come too late ; these having 
 got the blessing before he came. He was now 
 in great distress, thinking this might indeed be 
 the case ; and " went up and down, bemoaning 
 his sad condition," and crying out, " O that I 
 had turned sooner! O that. I had turned seven 
 years ago !" He was also " angry with him- 
 self," to think that he had had no more wit than 
 to trifle away his time till his soul and heaven 
 were lost. 
 
 From these fears he was after awhile re- 
 lieved, by the recollection of another text which, 
 he remarked, came into his mind "just about 
 the same place where he received his other 
 encouragement." The text was Luke xiv, 22, 
 23, where the servant who had been sent into 
 the streets and lanes of the city to bring the 
 poor, the halt, and the blind to the feast, returns 
 4 
 
50 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 to his master, saying, " Lord, it is done as thou 
 hast commanded, and yet there is room ;" and 
 the lord said unto the servant, " Go out into the 
 highways and hedges, and compel them to come 
 in, that my house may be filled." " These 
 words," says Bunyan, "but especially those, 
 1 and yet there is room,' were sweet words to 
 me ; for truly I thought that by them I saw there 
 was place enough in heaven for me ; and, more- 
 over, that when the Lord Jesus did speak these 
 words, he did then think of me ; and that he, 
 knowing the time would come that I should be 
 afflicted with fear that there was no place left 
 for me in his bosom, did speak this word, and 
 leave it upon record, that I might find help 
 thereby against this vile temptation. This I 
 then verily believed." 
 
 In the " light and encouragement" which this 
 scripture afforded, he " went a pretty while ;" 
 but it was not long before he was again " at a 
 very great stand," and his difficulty now was to 
 know whether he was " called" or not. He had 
 been taught, and he believed, that there were 
 two calls spoken of in the gospel — : a common 
 call, addressed without limitation or restriction 
 to all men ; and a special or effectual call, which 
 was addressed to the elect only, and which 
 alone was accompanied with any gracious in- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 51 
 
 fluences of the Spirit. Thus, none but those 
 who were effectually called could inherit the 
 kingdom of heaven ; and Bunyan feared that he 
 was not thus called. He read in the Gospels 
 how the Lord said to one, " Follow me ;" and. 
 to another, " Come after me ;" and he thought, 
 if Christ would say so to him too, how gladly 
 would he run after him ! 
 
 " I cannot now express," he says, " with what 
 longings and breathings in my soul I cried to 
 Christ to call me. Thus I continued for a time, 
 all in a flame to be converted to Jfcesus Christ ; 
 and did also see at that day sucfT glory in a con- 
 verted state, that I could not be contented with- 
 out a share therein. Gold ! could it have been 
 gotten for gold, what would I have given for it ! 
 Had I had a whole world, it had all gone ten 
 thousand times over for this, that my soul might 
 have been in a converted state. How lovely 
 now was every one in my eyes that I thought 
 to be converted men and women ! They shone, 
 they walked like a people that carried the broad 
 seal of heaven about them. O ! I saw the lot 
 was fallen to them in pleasant places, and they 
 had a goodly heritage." 
 
 One passage of Scripture, or rather his inter- 
 pretation of it, gave him at this period no little 
 discouragement. It was Mark iii, 13, "He 
 
52 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 (Jesus) went up into a mountain, and called to 
 him whom he would, and they came unto him." 
 " That which made me fear," he says, " was 
 this ; — lest Christ should have no liking to me, 
 for he called whom he would. But O ! the glory 
 that I saw in that condition did still so engage 
 my heart, that I could not read of any that 
 Christ did call, but I presently wished, Would 
 I had been born in their clothes ; would I had 
 been born Peter ; would I had been born John ; 
 or would I had been by and had heard him 
 when he called him, how would I have cried, 
 'O Lord, call me also!' But O! I feared he 
 would not call me." 
 
 In this state of doubt and anxiety he contin- 
 ued many months ; but at last, after much time 
 spent, and many groans to God, that he might 
 be a partaker of the holy and heavenly calling, 
 this text " came in upon" him : " I will cleanse 
 their blood, that I have not cleansed, for the 
 Lord dwelleth in Zion," Joel iii, 21. These 
 words, he thought, were sent to encourage him 
 to wait still upon God ; and gave him some 
 hope that if he were not already, yet the time 
 might come when he should indeed be convert- 
 ed to Christ. 
 
 At this stage of our narrative we cannot re- 
 frain from making some remarks on the subject 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 53 
 
 of those distressing doubts and fears which 
 caused Bunyan for so many months to walk in 
 darkness and almost in despair. For these 
 difficulties and distractions various reasons have 
 been assigned ; but we think no unprejudiced 
 person can fail to perceive that they were mainly 
 occasioned by his want of information on the 
 subject of Christian experience, and his erro- 
 neous views of Christian doctrine, which ena- 
 bled the tempter to take advantage of him, so 
 that he was, to use his own words, already 
 quoted, " tossed betwixt the devil and his own 
 ignorance." 
 
 The theology that most prevailed in Bunyan's 
 day held that God, without respect to charac- 
 ter, had from all eternity elected a certain num- 
 ber to eternal life, while all the rest of mankind 
 were left to perish without hope. And though 
 the gospel calls all men, without distinction, to 
 repentance and newness of life, it was main- 
 tained that this call was made in good faith only 
 to the elect ; all men being by nature incapable 
 of obeying it, and the strength necessary to 
 enable them to do so being withheld from all 
 but the favoured subjects of irresistible grace. 
 These unscriptural dogmas, which, by a strange 
 perversion of language, were termed, by their 
 advocates, the " doctrines of grace /" he had 
 
54 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " embraced without scruple," and hence his 
 doubts and perplexities. They were the natu- 
 ral result of a belief in such doctrines, and he 
 was neither the first nor the last who by them 
 has been driven well nigh to despair. Only let 
 a broken-hearted penitent be fully persuaded 
 that " God will" not "have all men to be saved," 
 and that " his tender mercies are" not " over all 
 his works," and he will hardly be persuaded to 
 entertain any hope of mercy, until, as was the 
 case with Bunyan, some gracious promise takes 
 such fast hold of his mind and heart as to cast, 
 for the time, all, his preconceived notions into 
 the shade. 
 
 After all, Bunyan rather jumped over than 
 got fairly through his perplexities. The pas- 
 sages of Scripture from which he received en- 
 couragement were of general application, and 
 of themselves contained nothing that was calcu- 
 lated to afford encouragement to a believer in 
 the Calvinistic doctrines of election and repro- 
 bation. If the Scripture told him that "yet 
 there is room," it spoke the same language to 
 every sinner in Bedford, Elstow, or elsewhere ; 
 and the same may be said of the other passages. 
 Accordingly it appears from his own narrative 
 that he derived his encouragement less from the 
 language of the texts, than from the way in which 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 55 
 
 they came to him. In the course of his daily- 
 reading, for he was now a most diligent peruser 
 of the Scriptures, he must previously have met 
 not only with the passages he has specified, but 
 with scores of others equally if not more en- 
 couraging ; but coming to him in the ordinary 
 way there was nothing to strike his attention — 
 nothing to give them a special application to 
 himself. It was their sudden and unexpected 
 recurrence to his mind that excited his hopes. 
 Of one text he says, " it seized upon his heart 
 so suddenly — it was as if it had talked with 
 him ;" and of another, " it broke in upon his 
 mind ;" and the latter made the greater impres- 
 sion from the fact of its occurring in or near " the 
 same place where he received his other encour- 
 agement." " He laid," says Mr. Philip, "much 
 stress upon these accidents or coincidences. . . . 
 The ripest fruit of the Tree of Life was not 
 sweet enough for him then, unless it fell at his 
 feet by some happy accident, or was wrapped 
 up in other leaves than its own. In like man- 
 ner, it was not enough for him to meet with 
 truths which were lights shining in a dark place : 
 they must both dart and dazzle, and that sud- 
 denly, in order to make the ' Day-star of hope 
 arise in his heart." Coming to his mind as 
 they did, he regarded them not in the light of 
 
56 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 general promises, but as particular revela',k/D4 
 to himself: he "thought they were specially 
 sent to encourage him" and thus he contrived 
 to " take the comfort of them," and still retain 
 his Calvinistic notions, which indeed he held 
 fast to the close of his life. His troubles or 
 this score, however, were far from being ovei 
 yet ; he had still, as we shall see presently, 
 many a severe conflict to pass through. Indeed, 
 resting his confidence rather on sudden impulses 
 and feelings, than on the general declarations 
 of Scripture, it was but natural chat the hopes 
 thus inspired should fail him in his more de- 
 sponding hours. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BUNYAN's RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE : EXTRAOR- 
 DINARY TEMPTATIONS AND CONFLICTS. 
 
 After Bunyan had suffered some years of anx- 
 ious perplexity respecting his spiritual state, 
 and while his mind was still agitated between 
 hope and fear as to the probability of his even- 
 tual conversion, he wisely resolved to open his 
 mind to some of his Christian friends ; for hith- 
 erto, though he had long been " a brisk talker 
 in the matter of religion," he had kept his doubts 
 and conflicts to himself, a course which had 
 doubtless contributed in no small degree to ag- 
 gravate them. He now imparted his feelings 
 and perplexities to the poor women, already 
 mentioned, at Bedford ; and they, when they 
 had heard his story, referred the case to Mr. 
 Gifford, their minister. 
 
 The history of Gifford is scarcely less re- 
 markable than that of Bunyan himself. He had 
 taken an active part in the civil war, having 
 been a major in the king's army. Continuing 
 true to his cause after the ruin of his party, he 
 engaged in an insurrection, having for its object 
 the restoration of the king ; but he was appre- 
 
58 MFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 hended, and, with eleven others, condemned to 
 be hanged. On the eve of his intended execu- 
 tion, however, he was visited by his sister, who, 
 finding the sentinels fast asleep without, and 
 his fellow-prisoners dead drunk within, gave 
 him the information, and urged him to embrace 
 the opportunity to escape. He did so, and hav- 
 ing safely passed the sleeping guards, fled to 
 the fields, and concealed himself for three days 
 in a ditch, during which time diligent but una- 
 vailing search was made for him in all direc- 
 tions. He was then, by the help of his friends, 
 conveyed in disguise to London, and afterward 
 to other parts of the country, finding conceal- 
 ment and protection in the houses of those who 
 were attached to the royal party. 
 
 As soon as the danger was over he went to 
 Bedford, where, exchanging the military for the 
 medical profession, he supported himself by the 
 practice of physic. 
 
 Gifford was at this period leading a profligate 
 and reckless life ; notoriously abandoned to 
 vice ; a drunkard, a swearer, and a gambler. 
 So thoroughly did he hate the Puritans, that he 
 often thought of killing one Anthony Harring- 
 ton, for no other reason than that he was a lead- 
 ing man among them at Bedford. Although an 
 habitual gambler, he was rarely a successful 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 59 
 
 one ; and having one night lost fifteen pounds, 
 (about seventy dollars,) a large sum for a person 
 in his circumstances, he became furious, and 
 indulged "many desperate thoughts against 
 God." Happening to look into one of the 
 works of the Rev. Robert Bolton, something 
 which he read there startled him into a sense 
 of his own condition ; his conscience was ar- 
 rested, and for a month or more he remained in 
 a state of great distress under conviction of sin. 
 At length the divine Spirit so enlightened his 
 mind with respect to the way of forgiveness 
 through Christ, that he was soon " filled with 
 joy and peace in believing ;" and so clear and 
 abiding was the " witness of the Spirit " to his 
 spirit that he was a child of God, that from this 
 period to within a few days of his death he 
 declared, " he lost not the light of God's coun- 
 tenance, no, not for an hour." 
 
 Having thus " passed from death unto life," 
 he sought an acquaintance with the people of 
 God ; but he had been so notorious for his vile- 
 ness and his enmity to religion, that they, like 
 the disciples at Jerusalem with Saul of Tarsus, 
 " were all afraid of him, and believed not that 
 he was a disciple." Being however of a bold 
 and ardent temperament, he would not be re- 
 pulsed, but "would thrust himself again and 
 
60 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 again into their company," until at last they 
 were convinced of his sincerity, and gave him 
 the right hand of fellowship. 
 
 Constrained by the love of Christ, he now 
 began to speak and exhort, first in private, and 
 afterward in a more public manner. His min- 
 istry was attended with good success, and a 
 number believed and turned to the Lord. His 
 next concern was to see the professing believers 
 with whom he was connected, united together 
 in church fellowship. He proposed the subject 
 to them, and they set apart many days for so- 
 lemn prayer, to seek direction from above. In- 
 quiries were made into the practice of religious 
 societies in the neighbourhood, and the Scrip- 
 tures were diligently searched. At length, in 
 the year 1650, they came to a resolution that a 
 select number should form themselves into a 
 body, and so lay the foundation of a Christian 
 church ; and accordingly Mr. Gifford, with 
 eleven other "grave and serious Christians," 
 of whom Anthony Harrington was one, " ap- 
 pointed a day for this solemn transaction, when 
 they met together, and after fervent prayer, first 
 gave themselves up to the Lord, and afterward 
 to one another, according to the will of God. 
 This done, they with one consent made choice 
 of Mr. Gifford to be their pastor, or elder, to 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 61 
 
 minister to them in the things of the kingdom 
 of Christ " The principles on which they en- 
 tered into this fellowship with one another, and 
 the conditions on which they afterward admitted 
 those who desired to join them, were faith in 
 Christ, and holiness of life, without respect to any 
 difference in outward and circumstantial things. 
 
 Such was the man who now became Bun- 
 yan's spiritual adviser and pastor, and whom, 
 in his Pilgrim's Progress, he has immortalized 
 under the name of Evangelist. 
 
 Gifford, when informed of Bunyan's case, 
 took occasion to talk with him on the subject, 
 and invited him to his house, where he might 
 hear him converse with others about the deal- 
 ings of God with their souls. This at first 
 served only to increase his convictions, and 
 deepen his distress ; for it led him to discover 
 " something of the vanity and inward wicked- 
 ness of his heart," and he saw " that lusts and 
 corruptions put forth themselves within him in 
 wicked thoughts and desires, which he did not 
 regard (or notice) before." The effect of all 
 this was to reduce him for a time to a state of 
 religious despondency bordering on despair. 
 " My desire also for heaven and life," he says, 
 " began to fail. I found that whereas before my 
 soul was full of longing after God, it now began 
 
62 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 to hanker after every foolish vanity ; yea, my 
 heart would not be moved to mind that which 
 was good : it began to be careless, both of my 
 soul and heaven : it would now continually hang 
 back, both to, and in, every duty ; and was as a 
 clog N on the leg of a bird to hinder him from flying. 
 " Nay, I thought, now I grow worse and 
 worse ; now I am further from conversion than 
 ever I was before ; wherefore I began to sink 
 greatly in my soul, and began to entertain such 
 discouragement in my heart, as laid me low as 
 hell. . . . Sometimes I would tell my condition 
 to the people of God ; which, when they heard, 
 they would pity me, and tell me of the pro- 
 mises : but they had as good have told me that 
 I must reach the sun with my finger, as have 
 bidden me receive, or rely upon, the promises ; 
 and as soon I should have done it. All my 
 sense and feeling was against me ; and I saw I 
 had a heart that would sin, and that lay under 
 a law that would condemn. ... I was more 
 loathsome in mine own eyes than a toad, and I 
 thought I was so in God's eyes too. Sin and 
 corruption, I said, would as naturally bubble out 
 of my heart as water would bubble out of a 
 fountain. I thought now. that every one had a 
 better heart than I had ; I could have changed 
 hearts with anybody ; I thought none but the 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 63 
 
 devil himself could equalize me for inward wick- 
 edness and pollution of mind. I fell therefore, 
 at the sight of my own vileness, deeply into 
 despair; for I concluded that this condition I 
 was in could not stand with a state of grace. 
 1 Sure,' thought I, ' I am forsaken of God ; sure I 
 am given up to the devil, and a reprobate mind.' 
 
 " Further, in those days I should find my heart 
 to shut itself up against the Lord, and against 
 his holy word. I have found my unbelief to 
 set, as it were, the shoulder to the door, to keep 
 him out ; and that too even then when I have, 
 with many a bitter sigh, cried, ' Good Lord, 
 break it open : Lord, break these gates of brass, 
 and cut these bars of iron asunder.' 
 
 " And now I was sorry that God had made 
 
 me man ; for / feared I was a reprobate 
 
 Yea, I thought it impossible that ever I should 
 attain to so much godliness of heart as to thank 
 God that he had made me a man. . . . The 
 beasts, birds, fishes, &c, — I blessed their con- 
 dition, for they had not a sinful nature ; they 
 were not obnoxious to the wrath of God ; they 
 were not to go to hell-fire after death ; I could 
 therefore have rejoiced had my condition been 
 as any of theirs. 
 
 " But all this while, as to the act of sinning, 
 I was never more tender than now. I durst 
 
64 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 not take a pin, or stick, though but so big as a 
 straw ; for my conscience now was sore, and 
 would smart at every touch. I could not tell 
 how to speak my words, for fear I should mis- 
 place them. O how cautiously did I then go 
 in all I did or said ! I found myself in a miry 
 bog, that shook if I did but stir, and was as then 
 left both of God, and Christ, and the Spirit, and 
 all good things." 
 
 But Bunyan was willing to bear " a wounded 
 spirit," rather than put up with a false peace. 
 " He dreaded," says Philip, " a seared con- 
 science more than a sad heart." Like his own 
 Pilgrim, he was now struggling in " the Slough 
 of Despond ;" like him too he was determined 
 that if he got out it should be "on that side 
 which was next the wicket gate." He says, 
 " Though I was much troubled, and tossed, and 
 afflicted with the sight, and sense, and terror of 
 my own wickedness, yet I was afraid to let this 
 sight and sense go quite off my mind ; for I 
 found that unless guilt of conscience was taken 
 off the right way, that is, by the blood of Christ, 
 a man grew rather worse for the loss of his 
 trouble of mind. Therefore if my guilt lay hard 
 upon me, then would I cry that the blood of 
 Christ might take it off; and if it was going off 
 without it, (for the sense of sin would be some- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 65 
 
 times as if it would die, and go quite away,) 
 then I would also strive to fetch it upon my 
 heart again, .... and would cry, ' Lord, let 
 it not go off my heart but the right way.' " He 
 had seen some who were once under great alarm 
 of conscience, but who, seeking " present ease 
 for their trouble, rather than pardon for their 
 sin," had lost their convictions, and become more 
 hardened and wicked than before ; he feared 
 therefore lest this should be the case with him. 
 In this condition he remained for many 
 months ; but at length he obtained from a ser- 
 mon upon a strange text, strangely handled, that 
 comfort which, had there not been a mist be- 
 fore his understanding, he might have found in 
 every page of the gospel. The text was Sol- 
 omon's Song, iv, 1, " Behold, thou art fair, my 
 love ; behold, thou art fair !" The preacher 
 dwelt chiefly on the words, " my love," and the 
 following passage in his sermon fastened upon 
 Bunyan's mind : — " If it be so, that the saved 
 soul is Christ's love when under temptation 
 and destruction, then, poor tempted soul, when 
 thou art assaulted and afflicted with temptations, 
 and the hiding of God's face, yet think on these 
 two words, ' my love,'' still." " What," said 
 Bunyan to himself as he was going homeward, 
 " shall !%et by thinking on these two words ?" 
 5 
 
66 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 This thought had no sooner passed through his 
 heart but these words, "Thou art my love, thou 
 art my love," began to kindle his spirit ; " and 
 still," he says, " as they ran in my mind, they 
 waxed stronger and warmer, and began to make 
 me look up ; but being as yet between hope and 
 fear, I still replied in my heart, ' But is it true ; 
 but is it true V at which this sentence fell upon 
 me, ' He wist not that it was true, which was 
 done unto him of the angel,' Acts xii, 9. 
 
 " Then I began to give place to the word 
 which, with power, did over and over make 
 this joyful sound within my soul, ' Thou art my 
 love ; thou art my love ; and nothing shall sepa- 
 rate thee from my love.' And with that my 
 heart was full of comfort and hope ; and now I 
 could believe that my sins would be forgiven 
 me. Yea, I was now so taken with the love 
 and mercy of God, that I remember I could not 
 tell how to contain till I got home. I thought 
 I could have spoken of his love, and have told 
 of his mercy to me, even to the very crows that 
 sat upon the ploughed lands before me, had they 
 been capable to have understood me." 
 
 Bunyan's " wish to speak to the crows," says 
 Mr. Philip, " is no weakness. It is not unna- 
 tural, however unusual it may be. David went 
 lower than Bunyan, and called even on ' creep- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 67 
 
 ing things,' as well as upon ' flying fowl and 
 all cattle,' to praise the Lord with him. When- 
 ever his adoring gratitude became unspeakable 
 to his lips, or unutterable by his harp, he inva- 
 riably devolved the song of praise, not only upon 
 all the armies of heaven, but upon all the works 
 of nature also. He turned the universe into a 
 vast orchestra, and tuned all its voices to the 
 melody of his own heart. Bunyan remembered 
 this when his own harp required help ; and thus 
 wished to tell the crows his joy. The fact is, 
 there is a ' fulness of heart ' which must speak, 
 and yet cannot speak fast enough, or loud 
 enough." 
 
 So ecstatic were Bunyan's feelings at this 
 time, that he thought he should not forget it 
 forty years hence ; " but alas !" he adds, "with- 
 in less than forty days I began to question all 
 again." About a week or fortnight afterward 
 this text was strongly impressed upon his mind : 
 " Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to 
 have thee ;" and so strongly did these words 
 seem to sound within him, and around him, that 
 on one occasion he turned his head over his 
 shoulder, verily thinking that some one about 
 half a mile behind was addressing them to him; 
 and although Simon was not his name, " yet," 
 he says,*" it made me suddenly look behind me, 
 
68 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 • 
 
 believing that he that called so loud meant me." 
 At the time, he tells us, he wondered much that 
 this scripture should thus so often, and so loud- 
 ly, be sounding and rattling in his ears ; but in 
 the sequel he was fully persuaded that it was a 
 warning sent from heaven to premonish him 
 that a great cloud and storm were coming down 
 upon him. 
 
 We now come to the most remarkable part 
 of Bunyan's religious experience. About a 
 month after the supposed warning mentioned in 
 the preceding paragraph, he says, " A very great 
 storm came down upon me, which handled me 
 twenty times worse than all I had met with be- 
 fore. It came stealing upon me, now by one 
 piece, then by another ; first, all my comfort 
 was taken from me ; then darkness seized upon 
 me ; after which whole floods of blasphemies, 
 both against God, Christ, and the Scriptures, 
 were poured upon my spirit, to my great confu- 
 sion and astonishment.* These blasphemous 
 thoughts were such as stirred up questions in 
 
 * Bunyan had evidently an eye to this part of his ex- 
 perience when he penned the following passage in his 
 Pilgrim's Progress. It occurs in the description of Chris- 
 tian's passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death : 
 — " One thing I would not let slip : I took ^otice that 
 now poor Christian was so much confounded, that he did 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 69 
 
 me against the very being of God, and of his 
 only-beloved Son ; as whether there were in 
 truth a God, or Christ ; and whether the Scrip- 
 tures were not rather a fable and cunning story, 
 than the holy and pure word of God. 
 
 " These suggestions, with many others which 
 at this time I may not nor dare not utter by 
 word or pen, did make such a seizure upon my 
 spirit, and did so overweigh my heart, both with 
 their number, continuance, and fiery force, that 
 I felt as if there were nothing else but these 
 from morning to night within me ; and as though 
 indeed there could be room for nothing else : 
 and also concluded that God had, in very wrath 
 to my soul, given me up to them, to be carried 
 away with them as with a mighty whirlwind." 
 
 His only consolation, at this time, seemed to 
 
 not know his own voice ; and thus I perceived it : just 
 when he was come over against the mouth of the burn- 
 ing pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and 
 stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested 
 many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily 
 thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put 
 Christian more to it than anything that he met with be- 
 fore, even to think that he should now blaspheme Him 
 that he loved so much before. Yet if he could have 
 helped it he would not have done it ; but he had not the 
 discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence 
 those blasphemies came." 
 
<vy LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 arise from a consciousness that there was some- 
 thing in him which did not consent to these 
 suggestions ; and even this conviction was ge- 
 nerally borne down by the strength and force of 
 the temptation. He thought himself surely pos- 
 sessed of the devil ; he says he was " bound 
 in the wings of temptation, and the wind would 
 carry him away." 
 
 " In those days," he continues, " when I have 
 heard others talk of what was the sin against 
 the Holy Ghost, then would the tempter so pro- 
 voke me to desire to sin that sin, that I was as 
 if I could not, must not, neither should be quiet 
 until I had committed it. Now no sin would 
 serve but that. If it were to be committed by 
 speaking of such a word, then I have been as 
 if my mouth would have spoken that word, 
 whether I would or no ; and in so strong a mea- 
 sure was this temptation upon me, that often I 
 have been ready to clap my hands under my 
 chin, to hold my mouth from opening ; and to 
 that end also I have had thoughts, at other times, 
 to leap, with my head downward, into some muck 
 hole or other, to keep my mouth from opening. 
 
 " And now my heart was at times exceeding 
 hard. If I would have given a thousand pounds 
 for a tear, I could not shed one ; no, nor some- 
 times scarce desire to shed one. I was much 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 dejected, to think that this should be my lot. I 
 saw some could mourn and lament their sin ; 
 and others again could rejoice and bless God 
 for Christ ; and others again could quietly talk 
 of, and with gladness remember, the word of 
 God ; while I only was in a storm or tempest. 
 This much sunk me : I thought my condition 
 was alone : I should therefore much bewail my 
 hard hap ; but get out of or get rid of these things 
 I could not." 
 
 While this temptation lasted, which was about 
 a year, he was most distressed when attending 
 public worship, or reading the Scriptures, or 
 engaged in prayer. Frequently when praying, 
 he imagined that he felt the enemy behind him, 
 pulling his clothes, bidding him " have done — 
 break off — make haste — you have prayed 
 enough," &c. When he strove hard to com- 
 pose his mind, and fix it upon God, the tempter 
 laboured to distract him, by presenting to his 
 fancy the form of a bush, a bull, or some other 
 material object, as if he were praying to them. 
 " To these," says Bunyan, " he would also (at 
 sometimes especially) so hold my mind, that I 
 was as if I could think of nothing else, or pray 
 to nothing else but to these, or such as these." 
 Worse thoughts were sometimes suggested, such 
 as, " If thou wilt fall down and worship me ! " 
 
72 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Yet at times he had " strong and affecting 
 apprehensions of God, and of the truth of the 
 gospel ;" when his heart would put forth its 
 desires in inexpressible groanings. " My whole 
 soul," he says, " was then in every word. I 
 should cry with pangs after God, that he would 
 be merciful unto me. But then I should be 
 daunted again with such conceits as these : — 
 that God did mock at these my prayers, saying, 
 and that in the audience of the holy angels, 
 * This poor simple wretch doth hanker after 
 me, as if I had nothing to do with my mercy 
 but to bestow it on such as he. Alas ! poor 
 soul, how art thou deceived ! It is not for thee 
 to have favour with the Highest.' 
 
 " Then hath the tempter come upon me also 
 with such discouragements as these : ' You are 
 very hot after mercy, but I will cool you. This 
 frame shall not last always. Many have been as 
 hot as you for a spirt, but I have quenched their 
 zeal ;' and with this, such and such who were 
 fallen off would be set before mine eyes. Then 
 I would be afraid that I would do so too ; but, 
 thought I, I will watch, and take what care I 
 can. ' Though you do,' said Satan, ' I shall be 
 too hard for you. I will cool you insensibly-— 
 by degrees — by little and little. What care I, 
 though I be seven years in chilling your heart, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 73 
 
 if I can do it at last? Continual rocking will 
 lull a crying child asleep. I will ply it close, 
 but I will have my end accomplished. Though 
 you be burning hot at present, yet I can pull 
 you from this fire. I shall have you cold before 
 it be long.' . . . But I thank Christ Jesus, these 
 things did not at present make me slack my 
 crying, but rather did put me more upon it." 
 
 Bunyan was not, however, without some brief 
 seasons of comfort during this year of tempta- 
 tion. The invitation in Jer. iii, 1, " Thou hast 
 played the harlot with many lovers ; yet return 
 again to me, saith the Lord," afforded him some 
 support, as did also the fourth verse, " Wilt thou 
 not from this time cry unto me, My Father, thou 
 art the guide of my youth ?" He had also " a 
 sweet glance from. 2 Cor. v, 21, 'For he hath 
 made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin ; 
 that we might be made the righteousness of God 
 in him.' " One day, while sitting in a neigh- 
 bour's house, bemoaning his sad case, and ask- 
 ing himself what ground one " so vile and abo- 
 minable" could have to think that he should ever 
 inherit eternal life, — this text " came suddenly" 
 to his mind, " What shall we say to these things? 
 If God be for us, who can be against us ?" Those 
 words of our Saviour, " Because I live ye shall 
 live also," (John xiv, 19,) were likewise a help 
 
74 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 to him. These however, he says, " were but 
 hints, touches, and short visits, though very 
 sweet when present ; only they lasted not ; but, 
 like to Peter's sheet, of a sudden were caught 
 up from me to heaven again. Acts x, 16. 
 
 " But afterward the Lord did more fully and 
 graciously discover himself unto me ; and in- 
 deed did quite, not only deliver me from the 
 guilt that by these things was laid upon my 
 conscience, but also from the very filth thereof; 
 for the temptation was removed, and I was put 
 into my right mind again, as other Christians 
 were. 
 
 " I remember that one day, as I was travel- 
 ling in the country, and musing on the wicked- 
 ness and blasphemy of my heart, and consider- 
 ing the enmity that was in me to God, this 
 scripture came into my mind, ' He hath made 
 peace by the blood of his cross,' (Col. i, 20,) by 
 which I was made to see, both again and again, 
 that day, that God and my soul were friends by 
 his blood. This was a good day to me ; I hope 
 I shall never forget it. 
 
 " At another time, as I sat by the fire in my 
 house, and musing on my wretchedness, the 
 Lord made this also a precious word to me, — 
 ' Forasmuch then as the children are partakers 
 of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 75 
 
 part of the same ; that through death he might 
 destroy him that had the power of death, that 
 is, the devil ; and deliver them who, through 
 fear of death, were all their lifetime subject to 
 bondage,' Heb. ii, 14, 15. I thought that the 
 glory of these words was then so weighty upon 
 me, that I was both once and twice ready to 
 swoon as I sat ; yet not with grief and trouble, 
 but with solid joy and peace." 
 
 From a state of the deepest despondency, 
 Bunyan now seemed for a time to be filled with 
 religious joy ; and his present light and peace 
 appeared the brighter and deeper by contrast 
 with his previous darkness and despondency. 
 But to return to his own narrative : " Now," 
 says he, " was my soul led from truth to truth 
 by God ; ... for to my remembrance there was 
 not anything that I then cried unto God to 
 make known and reveal unto me, but he was 
 pleased to do it for me. I mean, not one part 
 of the gospel of the Lord Jesus, but I was or- 
 derly led into it. Methought I saw with great 
 evidence, from the four evangelists, the wonder- 
 ful works of God, in giving Jesus Christ to save 
 us — from his conception and birth, even to his 
 second coming to judgment. Methought I was 
 as if I had seen him born ; as if I had seen him 
 grow up ; as if I had seen him walk through the 
 
76 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 world, from the cradle to the cross ; to which 
 also, when he came, I saw how gently he gave 
 himself to be hanged and nailed on it for my 
 sins and wicked doing. 
 
 " When I have considered also the truth of 
 his resurrection, and ,have remembered that 
 word, ' Touch me not, Mary,' &c, I have seen 
 as if he had leaped out of the grave's mouth, for 
 joy that he was risen again, and had got the 
 conquest over our dreadful foes, saying, ' I as- 
 cend unto my Father and your Father ; and to 
 my God and to your God,' John xx, 17. I have 
 also, in the spirit, seen him a man, on the right 
 hand of God the Father for me ; and have seen 
 the manner of his coming from heaven to judge 
 the world with glory, and have been confirmed 
 in these things by these scriptures, — Acts i, 9-* 
 11 ; vii, 55, 56 ; x, 42 ; Heb. vii, 24 ; ix, 28 ; 
 Rev. i, 18; 1 Thess. iv, 16-18. 
 
 " Now I had, as I thought, an evidence from 
 heaven of my salvation, with many golden seals 
 thereon, all hanging in my sight. Now I could 
 remember with comfort this manifestation, and 
 the other discovery of grace ; and should often 
 long and desire that the last day were come, 
 that I might be for ever inflamed with the sight, 
 and joy, and communion with Him whose head 
 was crowned with thorns, whose face was spit 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 77 
 
 upon, and body broken, and soul made an offer- 
 ing for my sins. For whereas before I lay 
 continually trembling at the mouth of hell ; now 
 methought I was got so far therefrom, that I 
 could, when I looked back, scarce discern it ; 
 and O, thought I, that I were fourscore years 
 old now, that I might die quickly, that my soul 
 might be gone to rest !" 
 
 Bunyan's ardent temperament, his vivid im- 
 agination, and his simplicity, are strikingly dis- 
 played in the preceding paragraphs. His cre- 
 ative fancy, which gave a form and shape — ■ 
 almost a material existence — to the suggestions 
 and temptations of the adversary, was equally 
 active in his happier hours ; and what he saw 
 and felt he has recorded in language of extra- 
 ordinary power, and with the sincerity and earn- 
 estness of a man who is evidently telling all his 
 heart. It is this, in a great measure, which 
 gives to Bunyan's experience its unique cha- 
 racter. It is sui generis. Of it may be said, as 
 was of Goliah's sword, " There is none like it," 
 1 Sam. xxi, 9. It cannot, therefore, as Mr. 
 Philip well remarks, be taken as " a safe stand- 
 ard to try experimental knowledge by. . . . Not 
 one mind in a thousand could have darted, like 
 his, as with eagle-wings and eagle-eyes, from 
 the cradle to the cross of the Saviour, realizing 
 
78 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 every scene, as if an actual witness of the suf- 
 ferings and glory of Christ. This no more be- 
 longs to divine teaching necessarily, than does 
 the power of inventing the Pilgrim's Progress, 
 or of depicting the Holy War." 
 
 Before Bunyan had emerged from the tempt- 
 ations to which he had been subjected, he had 
 greatly longed to acquaint himself with the ex- 
 perience of " some ancient godly man," who 
 had lived and wrote hundreds of years before ; 
 for he seemed to think that the divines of his 
 own day were not equal to those of former ages, 
 and that they merely " writ what others felt, and 
 studied to answer such objections as they per- 
 ceived others were perplexed with, without go- 
 ing down themselves into the deep." While this 
 desire was strong in his mind, an old copy of 
 Luther's Commentary on the Galatians fell into 
 his hands. It was so old, and had bee^ so 
 much used, that it was ready to drop to pieces 
 if he " did but turn it over ;" but this only re- 
 commended it to Bunyan, whose imagination 
 then connected with antiquity the idea of supe- 
 rior wisdom and greater depth of religious ex- 
 perience. He had not read far before he found 
 his own condition *" so largely and profoundly 
 handled," and his experience so faithfully re- 
 flected in that of the great reformer, that it 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 79 
 
 seemed to him, he says, " as if the book had 
 been written out of his own heart." The peru- 
 sal of this volume produced for a time the hap- 
 piest effect upon his mind. It gave him to see 
 the source of many of his temptations and per- 
 plexities, and pointed out to him the " way to 
 escape." So highly did he value the work, 
 that, speaking of it many years after, he says, 
 " I do prefer this book of Martin Luther upon 
 the Galatians above all the books that ever I 
 have seen, (excepting the Holy Bible,) as most 
 fit for a wounded conscience." 
 
 Bunyan now for a season " went on his way 
 rejoicing," and began to sing, with the Psalmist, 
 " My mountain stands strong ; I shall never be 
 moved." He says, " Methought my soul cleaved 
 unto Christ. ... I felt my love to him as hot as 
 fire ; and now, as Job said, I thought I should 
 1 die in my nest.' " His joyful assurance, how- 
 ever, was not of long continuance. He found 
 that this was but a truce in his warfare ; and 
 these comforts served only to support and 
 strengthen him for future conflicts. " For," 
 says he, " after the Lord had thus graciously 
 delivered me, . . . and had given me such strong 
 consolation and blessed evidence from heaven, 
 touching my interest in his love through Christ, 
 the tempter came upon me again, and that with 
 
80 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 a more grievous and dreadful temptation than 
 before. And that was, to sell and part with this 
 most blessed Christ ; to exchange him for the 
 things of this life — for anything. This tempta- 
 tion lay upon me for the space of a year ; and 
 did follow me so continually that I was not rid 
 of it one day in a month ; no, not sometimes one 
 hour in many days together, unless when I was 
 asleep. . . . Neither my dislike of the thought, 
 nor yet any desire and endeavour to resist it, 
 did in the least shake or abate the continuance 
 or strength thereof ; for it did always, in almost 
 whatever I thought, intermix itself therewith, in 
 such sort, that I could neither eat my food, stoop 
 for a pin, chop a stick, or cast mine eye to look 
 on this or that, but still the temptation would 
 come, ' Sell Christ for this ; or sell Christ for 
 that ; sell him— sell him ;' against which, I may 
 say, for whole hours together, I have been forced 
 to stand as continually leaning and forcing my 
 spirit against it, lest haply, before I was aware, 
 some wicked thought might arise in my heart, 
 that might consent thereto ; and sometimes the 
 tempter would make me belieye I had consent- 
 ed to it ; but then I should be as tortured upon 
 a rack, for whole days together. 
 
 " This temptation did put me in such scares, 
 lest I should at some time be overcome there- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 81 
 
 with, that by the very force of my mind, in la- 
 bouring to resist this wickedness, my very body 
 would be put in action, by way of pushing or 
 thrusting with my hands or elbows ; still an- 
 swering, as fast as the destroyer said, Sell him, 
 * I will not, I will not, I will not ; no, not for 
 thousands, thousands, thousands of worlds ;' 
 thus reckoning, lest I should, in the midst of 
 these assaults, set too low a value on him, — 
 even until I scarce knew where I was, or how 
 to be composed again." 
 
 Sometimes the tempter assumed the garb of 
 " an angel of light." " In those seasons," says 
 Bunyan, " he would not let me eat my food in 
 quiet ; but, forsooth, when I was at the table, I 
 must go hence to pray ; I must leave my food 
 now, and just now ; so counterfeit holy would 
 this devil be. When I was thus tempted, I 
 would say in myself, ' Now I am at meat, let 
 me make an end.' ' No,' said he, ' you must do 
 it now, or you will displease God, and despise 
 Christ.' " With these suggestions he was much 
 distracted ; for he did not at the time know their 
 source. The truth is, the devil's counterfeit 
 holiness deceived him ; and believing these 
 impulses to be from heaven, he felt, when he 
 disobeyed them, as though he had broken a 
 command of God. 
 
 6 
 
82 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 But to return : " One morning," he says, " as 
 I did lie in my bed, I was, as at other times, 
 most fiercely assaulted with this temptation, to 
 sell and part with Christ ; the wicked sugges- 
 tion, ' Sell him, sell him,' still running in my 
 mind as fast as a man could speak; against 
 which also, in my mind, as at other times, I 
 answered, * No, not for thousands, thousands, 
 thousands,' at least twenty times together. But 
 at last, after much striving, even until I was 
 almost out of breath, I felt this thought to pass 
 through my heart, ' Let him go if he will ;' and 
 I thought also that I felt my heart freely con- 
 sent thereto. O the diligence of Satan ! O the 
 desperateness of man's heart !" 
 
 Here again we find Bunyan in the predica- 
 ment of his Pilgrim, when the latter " did not 
 know his own voice ;" and believing that he had 
 now yielded to the temptation and consented to 
 sell his Saviour, he gave himself up as irreco- 
 verably lost. " Now," says he, " was the battle 
 won, and down fell I, as a bird that is shot from 
 the top of a tree, into great guilt and fearful de- 
 spair. Thus getting out of my bed, I went 
 moping into the field ; but, God knows, with 
 as heavy a heart as mortal man, I think, 
 could bear ; where for the space of two hours 
 I was like a man bereft of life, and as now 
 
LIFE OP JOHN BUNYAN. 83 
 
 past all recovery, and bound over to eternal pun- 
 ishment." 
 
 To add to his distress, that passage in He- 
 brews (xii, 16, 17) occurred to his mind, which 
 speaks of Esau having " sold his birthright for 
 one morsel of meat," and afterward, " when he 
 would have inherited the blessing, he was re- 
 jected ; for he found no place of repentance, 
 though he sought it carefully with tears." Ap- 
 plying this text to his own case, he conceived 
 that he was now certainly beyond the reach of 
 mercy. But about ten or eleven o'clock on the 
 same day, as he was walking under a hedge, 
 full of sorrow and guilt, these words of the be- 
 loved disciple suddenly rushed in upon him, 
 " The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth 
 us from all sin," 1 John i, 7. " At the same 
 time also," he says, " I had my sin and the 
 blood of Christ thus represented to me, — that 
 my sin, when compared to the blood of Christ, 
 was no more to it than this little clod or stone 
 before me is to the vast and wide field that here 
 I see. . . . Now I began to conceive peace in my 
 soul, and methought I saw as if the tempter did 
 leer and steal away from me, as being ashamed 
 of what he had done." 
 
 But this "modest fit of the devil," as one 
 writer terms it, proved to be but of short dura- 
 
84 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 tion ; he soon returned to the charge, and in a 
 few hours Bunyan fell again into despondency. 
 What chiefly troubled him and caused him to de- 
 spair was, the passage concerning Esau, which, 
 he says, " would lie all day long in my mind, and 
 hold me down, so that I could by no means lift 
 up myself; for when I would strive to turn to 
 this scripture or that for relief, still that sen- 
 tence would be sounding in me, ' For ye know, 
 how that afterward, when he would have inhe- 
 rited the blessing, he found no place of repent- 
 ance, though he sought it carefully with tears.' 
 . . . . These words were to my soul like fetters 
 of brass to my legs, in the continual sound of 
 which I went for several months together. 
 
 " Sometimes, indeed, I should have a touch 
 from that in Luke xxii, 32, ' I have prayed for 
 thee that thy faith fail not ;' but it would not 
 abide with me ; neither could I, indeed, when I 
 considered my state, find ground to conceive in 
 the least that there should be the root of that 
 grace in me, having sinned as I had done." 
 
 In fact, he was fully persuaded that he had 
 committed the " unpardonable sin ;" and in this 
 opinion he was confirmed by the text concern- 
 ing Esau, which, he says, stuck always with 
 him. " And now," he adds, " I was a burden 
 and a terror to myself ; nor did I ever so know 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 85 
 
 as now, what it was to be weary of my life, and 
 yet afraid to die. O ! how gladly now would I 
 have been anybody but myself, — anything but a 
 man, — and in any condition but my own ! For 
 there was nothing did pass more frequently 
 over my mind, than that it was impossible for 
 me to be forgiven my transgression, and to be 
 saved from the wrath to come. ' O,' thought I, 
 ' that it was with me as in months past, as in the 
 days when God preserved me !' " 
 
 But although apparently well assured in his 
 own mind that his case was utterly hopeless, 
 his inclinations did not keep pace with his con- 
 victions. He was " loth and unwilling to pe- 
 rish," and therefore " began to compare his sin 
 with others," and searched the Bible to see if 
 he could find an account of any who had sinned 
 as he had done, and yet had been saved. So 
 he " considered DavioVs adultery and murder, 
 and found them most heinous crimes ; and those 
 too committed after light and grace received ;" 
 but then he considered that David had sinned 
 only against the law of Moses, whereas he had 
 sinned " against the gospel, — yea, against the 
 Mediator thereof;" — he had " sold his Saviour." 
 So he could find no ground of comfort here. 
 
 Next he considered the sin which Peter com- 
 mitted in denying his Master; and this, he 
 
86 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 thought, came nighest to his of any that he 
 could find ; for Peter had, like him, denied his 
 Saviour, and that too after light and mercy re- 
 ceived, and warning given. "I also," says 
 Bunyan, " considered that he did it once and 
 twice, and that after time to consider betwixt. 
 But although I put all these circumstances toge- 
 ther, that if possible I might find help, yet I 
 considered again that his was but a denial of his 
 Master, but mine was a selling of my Saviour. 
 Wherefore I thought with myself, that I came 
 nearer to Judas than either to David or Peter." 
 And now his belief in the doctrines of uncon- 
 ditional reprobation, and God's partial love, 
 helped ^again to point and poison the arrow 
 which pierced him, and to rivet the chain with 
 which his spirit was bound. " Here," he says, 
 " my torment would flame out and afflict me ; 
 yea, it would grind me, as it were, to powder, 
 to consider the preservation of God toward 
 others, while / fell into the snare ; for in my 
 thus considering of other men's sins, and com- 
 paring them with mine own, I could evidently 
 see that God preserved them, notwithstanding 
 their wickedness, and would not let them, as 
 he had me, become a son of perdition. . . . Ah, 
 how safely did I see them walk whom God had 
 hedged in ! They were within his care, protec- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 87 
 
 tion, and special providence. Though they 
 were full as bad as I by nature, yet because he 
 loved them he would not suffer them to fall with- 
 out the range of mercy ; but as for me, I was 
 gone, — I had done it ; he would not preserve me, 
 nor keep me, but suffered me, because I was a 
 reprobate, to fall as I had done. . . . Now I saw 
 that as God had his hand in all the providences 
 and dispensations that overtook his elect, so he 
 had his hand in all the temptations that they 
 had to sin against him. ... He would let David, 
 Hezekiah, Solomon, Peter, and others fall, but 
 he would not let them fall into sin unpardona- 
 ble, nor into hell for sin. O, thought I, these be 
 the men that God hath loved ! ... As all things 
 wrought together for the best, and to do good to 
 them that were the called according to his pur- 
 pose, so I thought that all things wrought for 
 damage, and for my eternal overthrow." 
 
 He now set himself again to compare his 
 imaginary crime with the sin of Judas, that he 
 might, if possible, find some such difference 
 between them as that he might reasonably con- 
 clude his own was not unpardonable ; and, by 
 considering, he found that Judas's sin was com- 
 mitted " intentionally — with much deliberation," 
 while his has been done " in a fearful hurry — 
 on a sudden" — and in spite of "prayer and 
 
S8 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 strivings" to the contrary. This consideration 
 for awhile afforded him some relief; but it was 
 only like a passing gleam of sunshine, for the 
 sound of Esau's fate was constantly ringing in 
 his ears, and did so " break and confound his 
 spirit, that he could not tell what to do," and 
 sometimes thought he should lose his wits. 
 " O !" he says, " no one knows the terrors of 
 those days but myself. ... I was often now 
 ashamed that I should be like such an ugly 
 man as Judas. I thought also how loathsome 
 I should be unto all the saints in the day of 
 judgment ; insomuch that I could scarce see a 
 good man, that I believed had a good conscience, 
 but I should feel my heart tremble at him, while 
 I was in his presence." 
 
 He was now tempted to seek relief by em- 
 bracing infidelity, if not atheism ; the tempter 
 suggesting, that even if there should be a future 
 state and a day of judgment, yet by believing 
 the contrary he could lose nothing, and would 
 at least attain present ease ; and as he must 
 perish at last, it was not worth while to tor- 
 ment himself beforehand. But whenever these 
 thoughts entered his mind, he would have at 
 the same time such a realizing sense of death 
 and the judgment, that both appeared, as it were, 
 in his view — within a step — as though they 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 89 
 
 were come already, and the Judge standing at 
 the door ; so that this temptation received no 
 entertainment. 
 
 He found it hard work, however, to pray to 
 God, because despair was swallowing him up. 
 " I thought," he says, " I was, as with a tem- 
 pest, driven away from God ; for always when 
 I cried for mercy this would come in, ' 'Tis too 
 late — I am lost — God hath let me fall — my sin 
 is unpardonable.' " 
 
 About this time he met with the narrative of 
 the awful death of Francis Spira, the reading 
 of which, he says, " was to his troubled spirit 
 as salt rubbed into a fresh wound." One ex- 
 pression of the dying apostate was especially 
 fearful to him : " Man knows the beginning of 
 sin, but who bounds the issues thereof ?" 
 
 The texi, " He hath received gifts for the 
 rebellious," (Psa. lxiii, 18,) would sometimes 
 come into his mind. " The rebellious," thought 
 he, " why they are such as have taken up arms 
 against their prince after they have once sworn 
 subjection to his government ; and this is my 
 very condition ; I once loved him, feared him, 
 served him ; but now I am a rebel ; I have sold 
 him ; I have said, ' Let him go if he will :' but 
 yet he hath gifts for rebels ; and then why not 
 for me . ? " But when he attempted to take " some 
 
90 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 small refreshment" from this text, he " missed 
 of his desire," and was " driven with force be- 
 yond it ;" he was, he says, like a man hurried 
 to execution, past some place " where he would 
 fain creep in and hide himself, but may not." 
 
 Bunyan had already compared his offence 
 with those of the ancient saints, and concluded 
 that his outweighed any of theirs. He now 
 began to view the matter over again, and set it 
 in this light, — What if I should put all theirs 
 together, and mine alone against them, might I 
 not then find encouragement ? He conceived 
 that if his sin, though bigger than any one of 
 theirs, should be but equal to all, there might 
 still be hope in his case ; seeing that the blood 
 which atoned for the whole of theirs had virtue 
 enough to atone for his one, although it should 
 be as large as all theirs put together. Hence 
 he says, " Here again I should consider the sin 
 of David, and Solomon, and the rest of the great 
 offenders ; and should also labour, what I might 
 with fairness, to aggravate and heighten their 
 sins by several circumstances. I should think 
 with myself that David shed blood to cover his 
 adultery, and that by the sword of the children 
 of Amnion ; a work that could not be done but 
 by contrivance, which was a great aggravation 
 to his sin. . . . Then I thought on Solomon, and 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 91 
 
 how he sinned in loving strange women, in fall- 
 ing away to their idols, in building them tem- 
 ples, in doing this after light in his old age, after 
 mercy received. ... I would then add to these 
 men's sins the sins of Manasseh ; how that he 
 built altars for idols in the house of the Lord ; 
 he also observed times, used enchantments, 
 burned his children in the fire, in sacrifice to 
 devils, and made the streets of Jerusalem to run 
 down with the blood of innocents. These, 
 thought I, are great sins, sins of a bloody co- 
 lour. . . . But then would this turn upon me, — 
 * Ah ! but these were but sins against the law, 
 from which there was a Jesus sent to save 
 them : but yours is a sin against the Saviour, 
 and who shall save you from that V 
 
 " This one consideration would always kill 
 my heart, — my sin was point blank against my 
 Saviour ; and that too at that height that I had 
 in my heart said of him, < Let him go if he will.' 
 O ! methought this sin was bigger than the sins 
 of a country, of a kingdom, or of the whole 
 world; no one unpardonable, nor all of them 
 together was able to make mine ; mine outwent 
 them every one. 
 
 " Now I should find my mind to flee from 
 God as from the face of a dreadful judge ; yet 
 chis was my torment, I could not escape his 
 
92 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 hand : ' It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands 
 of the living God.' But, blessed be his grace, 
 that scripture, in these flying fits, would call, as 
 running after me, ' I have blotted out, as a thick 
 cloud, thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy 
 sins ; return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' 
 This, I say, would come in upon my mind when 
 I was fleeing from the face of God ; for I did 
 flee from his face, that is, my mind and spirit 
 fled before him : then would the text cry, ' Re- 
 turn unto me ;' it would cry aloud with a very 
 great voice, ' Return unto me, for I have re- 
 deemed thee,' Isa. xliv, 22. Indeed, this would 
 make me a little stop, and, as it were, look over 
 my shoulder behind me, to see if I could discern 
 that the grace of God did follow me with a par- 
 don in his hand ; but I could no sooner do that, 
 but all would be clouded and darkened again by 
 that sentence, ' Eor you know, how that after- 
 ward, when he would have inherited the bless- 
 ing, he was rejected ; for he found no place of 
 repentance, though he sought it carefully with 
 tears.' Wherefore I could not refrain, but fled, 
 though at sometime it cried, ' Return, return,' 
 as if it did halloo after me : but I feared to close 
 in therewith, lest it should not come from God; 
 for that other, [about Esau,] as I said, was 
 sounding in my conscience." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 93 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 bunyan's religious experience : spiritual 
 conflicts: deliverance: remarks. 
 
 The remarkable relation which follows appear- 
 ed to Bunyan himself, accustomed as he was 
 to preternatural impressions, so extraordinary 
 and unaccountable in its character, that when 
 he wrote his narrative, many years after, he 
 hesitated to include it, and actually withheld it 
 from the first edition. We give it entire, in his 
 own words : — " Once as I was walking to and 
 fro in a good man's shop, bemoaning of myself 
 in a sad and doleful state, afflicting myself with 
 self-abhorrence for this wicked and ungodly 
 thought ; lamenting also this hard hap of mine, 
 for that I should commit so great a sin, greatly 
 fearing that I should not be pardoned ; praying 
 also in my heart, that if this sin of mine did 
 differ from that against the Holy Ghost, the 
 Lord would shew it me ; and being now ready 
 to sink with fear, suddenly there was, as if there 
 had rushed in at the window, the noise of wind 
 upon me, but very pleasant, and as if I heard 
 a voice speaking, ' Didst thou ever refuse to be 
 justified by the blood of Christ ? ' And withal, 
 
94 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 my whole life of profession past was in a mo- 
 ment opened to me, wherein I was made to see, 
 that designedly I had not : so my heart answer- 
 ed groaningly, ' No.' Then fell with power 
 that word upon me, ' See that ye refuse not him 
 that speaketh,' Heb. xii, 25. This made a 
 strange seizure upon my spirit ; it brought light 
 with it, and commanded a silence in my heart, 
 of all those tumultuous thoughts that did before 
 use, like masterless hell-hounds, to roar and 
 bellow, and make an hideous noise within me. 
 It shewed me also that Jesus Christ had yet a 
 word of grace and mercy for me ; that he had 
 not, as I had feared, quite forsaken and cast off 
 my soul ; yea, this was a kind of check for my 
 proneness to desperation ; a kind of threatening 
 of me, if I did not, notwithstanding my sins, 
 and the heinousness of them, venture my salva- 
 tion upon the Son of God. But as to my de- 
 termining about this strange dispensation, what 
 it was I know not ; or from whence it came I 
 know not ; I have not yet in twenty years' time 
 been able to make a judgment of it. I thought 
 then what here I should be loath to speak. 
 But verily that sudden rushing wind was as if 
 an angel had come upon me ; but both it and 
 the salvation I will leave until the day of judg- 
 ment: only this I say, it commanded a great 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 95 
 
 calm in my soul ; it persuaded me there might 
 be hope ; it shewed me, as 1 thought, what the 
 sin unpardonable was, and that my soul had yet 
 the blessed privilege to flee to Jesus Christ for 
 mercy. But I say, concerning this dispensa- 
 tion, I know not what to say unto it yet ; which 
 was also, in truth, the cause that at first I did 
 not speak of it in the book ; I do now also leave 
 it to be thought on by men of sound judgment. 
 I lay not the stress of my salvation thereupon, 
 but upon the Lord Jesus in the promise ; yet 
 seeing I am here unfolding my secret things, I 
 thought it might not be altogether inexpedient 
 to let this also shew itself, though I cannot now 
 relate the matter as there I did experience it." 
 But the struggle was not yet over. The 
 "savour" of this " strange dispensation," as he 
 calls it, lasted only about three or four days, and 
 then he began to mistrust, and despair again. 
 " Wherefore," he says, " my life still hung in 
 doubt before me, not knowing which way I 
 should tip ; only this I found my soul desire, 
 even to cast itself at the foot of grace, by prayer 
 and supplication. But O ! it was hard for me 
 now to have the face to pray to this Christ for 
 mercy, against whom I had thus vilely sinned ; 
 . . . and indeed I have found it as difficult to come 
 to God by prayer, after backsliding from him, 
 
96 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 as to do any other thing. . . . But I saw that 
 there was but one way with me ; I must go to 
 him, and humble myself unto him, and beg that 
 he, of his wonderful mercy, would shew pity to 
 me, and have mercy on my wretched, sinful soul." 
 But here the adversary strongly suggested, that 
 prayer would not avail in his case, seeing he had 
 rejected the Mediator, without whom no prayers 
 came to God with acceptance ; therefore if he 
 prayed now he would only add sin to sin, and 
 offend the Lord more than he had ever done 
 before. For God, urged the tempter, hath been 
 weary of you these several years already, be- 
 cause you are none of his : your bawling in his 
 ears hath been no pleasant voice to him ; and 
 therefore he let you sin this sin, that you might 
 be quite cut off ; and will you pray still ? "This," 
 says Bunyan, " the devil urged, and set forth 
 that in Numbers xiv, where Moses said to the 
 children of Israel, that because they would not 
 go up to possess the land when God would have 
 them, therefore for ever he did bar them out 
 from thence, though they prayed they might 
 with tears. It is said in another place, ' The 
 man that sins presumptuously shall be taken 
 from God's altar, that he may die,' (Exod. xxi, 
 14,) even as Joab was by King Solomon, when he 
 thought to find shelter there. These places did 
 
LIFE OP JOHN BUNYAN. 97 
 
 pinch me very sore ; yet my case being despe- 
 rate, I thought with myself, I can but die ; and 
 if it must be so, it shall once be said, * That such 
 an one died at the foot of Christ in prayer.' 
 This I did, but with great difficulty, God doth 
 know ; and that because, together with this, 
 still that saying about Esau would be set at my 
 heart, even like * a flaming sword,' to ' keep the 
 Way of the tree of life,' lest I should take there- 
 of and live. O ! who knows how hard a thing 
 1 found it to come to God in pTayer ! 
 
 11 1 did also desire the prayers of the people 
 of God for me ; hut I feared that God would 
 give them no heart to do it ; yea, I trembled in 
 my soul to think, that some or other of them 
 would shortly tell me that God had said those 
 words to them, that he once did say to the pro- 
 phet, concerning the children of Israel, ' Pray 
 not for this people, for I have rejected them,' 5 
 Jer. xi, 4. So, * Pray not for him, for I have 
 rejected him,' 1 Sam. xvi, 1. Yea, I thought 
 that he had whispered this to some of them 
 already, only they durst not tell me so ; neither 
 durst I ask them of it, for fear if it should be so 
 it would make me quite beside myself/' 
 
 About this time he opened his mind to an 
 '" ancient Christian," from whom, however, he 
 received but cold consolation ; for when he had 
 
98 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 told him his case, and that he feared he had 
 committed the unpardonable sin, his friend re- 
 plied, that " he thought so too!" Happily his 
 opinion seems to have had but little weight 
 with Bunyan, who comforted himself on find- 
 ing, by further conversation with him, that, 
 though a good man? he was " a stranger to 
 much combat with the devil." He therefore 
 betook himself again to prayer, as well as he 
 could, but in such a state of mind that the most 
 full and gracious promises of the gospel were 
 his greatest torment. " Yea," he says, " no- 
 thing so afflicted me as the thought of Jesus 
 Christ ; the remembrance of my Saviour (be- 
 cause I had cast him off) brought the villany 
 of my sin, and my loss by it, to mind. Nothing 
 did twinge my conscience like this. Every- 
 thing that I thought of the Lord Jesus, of his 
 grace, love, goodness, kindness, gentleness, 
 meekness, death, promises, blessed exhortations, 
 comforts, and consolations, it went to my soul 
 like a sword ; for still unto these my consider- 
 ations of the Lord Jesus, these thoughts would 
 make place for themselves in my heart, — ' Ah, 
 this is the Jesus, the loving Saviour, the Son 
 of God, whom you have parted with, whom you 
 have slighted, despised, and abused.' ... ! 
 thought I, what have I lost ; what have I parted 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 99 
 
 with ! What has disinherited my poor soul ! . . . 
 I could not bear to think of the ' wrath of the 
 Lamb,' in that great day of his wrath, when no 
 rebels to his authority will be able to stand. I 
 also trembled, as I have said, at the sight of the 
 saints of God ; ... for they did, both in their 
 words, their carriage, and all their expressions 
 of tenderness and fear to sin against their pre- 
 cious Saviour, condemn, and also add continual 
 affliction and shame unto my soul. The dread 
 of them was upon me, and I trembled at God's 
 Samuels. 1 Sam. xvi, 4. 
 
 " Now also the tempter began afresh to mock 
 my soul another way, saying, ' That Christ in- 
 deed did pity my case, and was very soriy for 
 my loss ; but forasmuch as I had sinned and 
 transgressed as I had done, he could by no 
 means help me, nor save me from what I fear- 
 ed : for my sin was not of the nature of theirs 
 for whom he bled and died; neither was it 
 counted with those that were laid to his charge, 
 when he hanged on a tree : therefore, unless he 
 should come down from heaven, and die anew 
 for this sin, (though indeed he did greatly pity 
 me,) yet I could have no benefit of him.' These 
 things may seem ridiculous to others, even as 
 ridiculous as they were in themselves, but to 
 me they were most tormenting cogitations : 
 
100 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 every one of them augmented my misery, that 
 Jesus Christ should have so much love as to 
 pity me, when yet he could not help me too : 
 nor did I think that the reason why he could 
 not help me was, because his merits were weak, 
 or his grace and salvation spent on others al- 
 ready, but because his faithfulness to his threat- 
 enings would not let him extend his mercy to 
 me. Besides, I thought, as I have already 
 hinted, that my sin was not within the bounds 
 of that pardon that was wrapped up in a pro- 
 mise ; and if not, then I knew surely that it was 
 more easy for heaven and earth to pass away, 
 than for me to have eternal life. . . . But O ! 
 how this would add to my affliction, to conceit 
 that I should be guilty of such a sin for which 
 he did not die ! These thoughts did so confound 
 me, and imprison me, and tie me up from faith, 
 that I knew not what to do. O, thought I, that 
 he would come down again ! O that the work 
 of man's redemption was yet to be done by 
 Christ ! how would I pray him, and entreat him 
 •to count and reckon this sin among the rest for 
 which he died ! But this scripture would strike 
 me down as dead, ' Christ being raised from 
 the dead, dieth no more : death hath no more 
 dominion over him,' Rom. vi, 9. 
 
 " Thus I was always sinking, whatever I 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 101 
 
 did think or do. So one day I walked to a 
 neighbouring town, and sat down upon a settle 
 in the street, and fell into a very deep pause 
 about the most fearful state my sin had brought 
 me to ; and after long musing, I lifted up my 
 head, but methought I saw, as if the sun that 
 shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light ; 
 and as if the stones in the streets, and the tiles 
 upon the houses, did bend themselves against 
 me. Methought that they all combined together 
 to banish me out of the world. . . . O how hap- 
 py now was every creature to what I was ! for 
 they stood fast, and kept their station, but I 
 was gone and lost. Then breaking out in the 
 bitterness of my soul, I said to my soul, ' How 
 can God comfort such a wretch as I am ? ' I had 
 no sooner said it, but this returned upon me, as 
 an echo doth answer a voice, ' This sin is not 
 unto death,' at which I was as if I had been 
 raised out of the grave, and cried out again, 
 ' Lord, how couldst thou find out such a word as 
 this V for I was filled with admiration at the 
 fitness, and at the unexpectedness of the sen- 
 tence. ... I was now, for the time, out of doubt 
 as to that about which I was so much in doubt 
 before. . . . Now, thought I, if this sin is not 
 unto death, then it is pardonable ; therefore from 
 this I have encouragement to come to God by 
 
102 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Christ for mercy. . . . None but those that know 
 (by their own experience) what my trouble was, 
 can tell what relief came to my soul by this 
 consideration : it was a release to me from my 
 former bonds, and a shelter from my former 
 storms. I seemed now to stand upon the same 
 ground with other sinners, and to have as good 
 right to the word and prayer as any of them. 
 
 " But O ! how Satan did now lay about him 
 for to bring me down again ! But he could by 
 no means do it, neither this day, nor the most 
 part of the next ; for this sentence stood like a 
 mill-post at my back. Yet toward the evening 
 of the next day I felt this word begin to leave 
 me, and to withdraw its supportation from me, 
 and so I returned to my old fears again, but with 
 a great deal of grudging and peevishness ; for I 
 feared the sorrow of despair. 
 
 " But the next day at evening, being under 
 many fears, I went to seek the Lord ; and as I 
 prayed my soul cried to him in these words, 
 with strong cries, ' O Lord, I beseech thee, 
 shew me that thou hast loved me with an ever- 
 lasting love !' I had no sooner said it, but with 
 sweetness this returned upon me, as an echo, 
 ' I have loved thee with an everlasting love.' 
 Now I went to bed in quiet ; also when I 
 awaked the next morning it was fresh upon my 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 103 
 
 soul, and I believed it. ... I had also, for se- 
 veral days together, very much sweetness, and 
 comfortable hopes of pardon." 
 
 But before many weeks had elapsed he be- 
 gan to despond again, fearing lest after all he 
 might be deceived, and meet with a disappoint- 
 ment at last ; for the old text about Esau was 
 again brought to his mind, and also some other 
 similar passages, which he thought effectually 
 cut him off from all hopes of mercy. " Now," 
 he says, " was the word of the gospel forced 
 from my soul. ... I felt myself to sink into a 
 gulf, as an house whose foundation is destroyed : 
 I did liken myself in this condition unto the case 
 of a child that was fallen into a mill-pit, who, 
 though it could make some shifts to scramble 
 and sprawl in the water, yet because it could 
 find hold neither for hand nor foot, therefore at 
 last it must die in that condition. . . .But while 
 these scriptures lay before me, and laid sin 
 anew at my door, that saying, ' And he spake a 
 parable to them, to this end, that men ought 
 always to pray and not to faint,' with others, did . 
 encourage me to prayer. Then the tempter 
 again laid at me very sore, suggesting, 'that 
 neither the mercy of God, nor yet the blood of 
 Christ, did at all concern me, nor could they 
 help me for my sin ; therefore it was in vain to 
 
104 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 pray/ Yet thought I, *1 will pray.' l But 7 T 
 said the tempter, ' your sin is unpardonable/ 
 f Well,' said I, * / will pray? t It is to no boot/ 
 said he. 4 Yet,' said I , '/ will pray / ' Sol went 
 to prayer to God ; and while I was at prayer, I 
 uttered words to this effect,, — 'Lord, Satan tells 
 me that neither thy mercy, nor Christ's blood, is 
 sufficient to save my soul. Lord, shall I hon- 
 our thee most, by believing thou wilt and canst? 
 or him, by believing thou neither wilt nor canst ? 
 Lord, I would fain honour thee, by believing 
 thou wilt and canst.' And as I was thus before 
 the Lord, that scripture fastened on my heart, 
 4 O man, great is thy faith,' even as if one had 
 clapped me on the back, as I was on my knees 
 before God : yet I was not able to believe that 
 this was a prayer of faith, till almost six months 
 after ; for I could not think that I had faith, or 
 that there should be a word for me to act faith 
 on ; therefore I should still be as sticking in 
 the jaws of desperation, and went mourning up 
 and down in a sad condition. 
 
 " At another time, I remember, I was again 
 much under this question, ' Whether the blood 
 of Christ was sufficient to save my soul ? ' in 
 which doubt I continued from morning till about 
 seven or eight at night : and at last, when I was, 
 as it were, quite worn out with fear, these words 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 105 
 
 did sound suddenly within my heart, * He is 
 able,' Heb. vii, 25. But methought this word 
 ' able ' was spoke loud unto me ; it shewed a 
 great word, it seemed to be writ in large letters, 
 and gave such a jostle to my fear and doubt (I 
 mean for the time it tarried with me, which was 
 about a day) as I never had from that time, all 
 my life, either before or after." 
 
 One morning, after this, while he was again 
 at prayer, trembling under the fear that no word 
 of God could help him, this "piece of a sentence 
 darted in" upon him, " My grace is sufficient," 
 1 Cor. xii, 9. About a fortnight before he had 
 looked at that very text, but thinking it could 
 afford no comfort to his soul, had " thrown down 
 the book in a pet." Then he thought it was not 
 large enough for him ; but now it was as if it 
 had arms of grace so wide that it could enclose 
 not only him, but many more besides. By this 
 text (or rather part of a text) he was sustained 
 for seven or eight weeks, yet not without many 
 conflicts ; for his peace " would be in and out 
 twenty times a day ; comfort now, and trouble 
 presently." This text about the sufficiency of 
 grace, and that about Esau's parting with his 
 birthright, would be "like a pair of scales in 
 his mind ; sometimes one would be uppermost, 
 sometimes the other ; according to which would 
 
106 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 be his peace or troubles." He therefore prayed 
 to God that he would help him to apply the 
 whole sentence, which as yet he was not him- 
 self able to do. " That He gave," says Bun- 
 yan, w that I gathered ; but further I could not 
 go, for as yet it only helped me to believe there 
 might be mercy for me. ' My grace is suffi- 
 cient,' answered my former question ; to wit, 
 that there was hope; yet because 'for thee'' 
 was left out, I was not contented, but prayed to 
 God for that also. Wherefore, one day, as I 
 was in a meeting of God's people, full of sad- 
 ness and terror, for my fears again were strong 
 upon me, these words did with great power 
 suddenly break in upon me, ' My grace is suffi- 
 cient for thee ; my grace is sufficient for thee ; 
 my grace is sufficient for thee,' three times to- 
 gether. And O ! methought every word was a 
 mighty word unto me, as my, and grace, and 
 sufficient, and for thee ; they were then, 
 and sometimes are still, far bigger than others 
 be. ... I was as though I had seen the Lord 
 Jesus look down from heaven through the tiles 
 upon me, and direct these words unto me. This 
 sent me mourning home ; it broke my heart, 
 and filled me full of joy, and laid me low in the 
 dust ; only it stayed not long with me, — I mean 
 in this glory and refreshing comfort; yet it 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 107 
 
 continued with me for several weeks, and did 
 encourage me to hope. But as soon as that 
 powerful operation of it was taken from my 
 heart, that other about Esau returned upon me 
 as before : so my soul did hang as in a pair of 
 scales again, sometimes up, and sometimes 
 down ; now in peace, and anon again in terror. 
 " I remember one day, as I was in divers 
 frames of spirit, and considering that these 
 frames were according to the nature of the se- 
 veral scriptures that came in upon my mind ; 
 if this of grace, then was I quiet ; but if that of 
 Esau, then tormented. Lord, thought I, if both 
 these scriptures should meet in my heart at once, 
 I wonder which of them would get the better of 
 me. So methought I had a longing mind that 
 they might both come together upon me ; yea, 
 I desired of God they might. Well, about two 
 or three days after, so they did indeed ; they 
 bolted both upon me at a time, and did work and 
 struggle strongly in me for awhile. At last that 
 about Esau's birthright began to wax weak, and 
 withdraw, and vanish ; and this, about the suf- 
 ficiency of grace, prevailed with peace and joy. 
 And as I was in a muse about this thing, that 
 scripture came in upon me, ' Mercy rejoiceth 
 against judgment,' James ii, 13. This was a 
 wonderment to me ; yet truly, I am apt to think 
 
108 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 it was of God ; for the word of the law and 
 wrath must give place to the word of life and 
 grace ; because, though the word of condemna- 
 tion be glorious, yet the word of life and salva- 
 tion doth far exceed in glory. 2 Cor. iii, 7-9. 
 
 " This scripture did also most sweetly visit 
 my soul, 'And him that cometh unto me I will 
 in no wise cast out,' John vi, 37. O the com- 
 fort that I had from this word, Hn no wise /' . . . 
 But Satan would greatly labour to pull this pro- 
 mise from me, telling of me, * That Christ did 
 not mean me, and such as I, but sinners of a 
 lower rank, that had not done as I had done !' 
 But I would answer him again, ' Satan, here is 
 in these words no such exception ; but him that 
 comes — him — any him ; him that cometh to me 
 I will in no wise cast out.' ... If ever Satan 
 and I did strive for any word of God in all my 
 life, it was for this good word of Christ ; he at 
 one end and I at the other. O, what work we 
 made ! It was for this in John, I say, that we 
 did so tug and strive ; he pulled and I pulled ; 
 but God be praised, I overcame him ; I got 
 sweetness from it." 
 
 Being now in a great measure delivered from 
 the temptation which had so long weighed down 
 his spirit, Bunyan set himself to consider more 
 clearly the character of his offence, and care- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 109 
 
 fully to " weigh the scope and tendency " of 
 those "most fearful and terrible scriptures" with 
 which he had been " so greatly affrighted, yea, 
 had had much ado a hundred times to forbear 
 wishing out of the Bible." The conclusion he 
 came to was, that as his sin had not been com- 
 mitted deliberately, nor yet consented to at the 
 time, he was not cut off from mercy by the pas- 
 sages that had so greatly alarmed him, but which, 
 on a closer examination, he found did not " look 
 so grimly " as they had formerly done. 
 
 " And now," he says, " remained only the 
 hinder part of the tempest ; for the thunder was 
 gone beyond me ; only some drops did still 
 remain, that now and then would fall upon me : 
 but because my former frights and anguish were 
 very sore and deep, therefore it oft befell me 
 still, as it befalleth those that have been scared 
 with fire ; — I thought every voice was ' Fire ! 
 fire ! ' Every little touch would hurt my ten- 
 der conscience." 
 
 But one day, as he was walking in the field, 
 having still some dashes on his conscience, fear- 
 ing lest all was not yet right, suddenly this sen- 
 tence occurred to him, " Thy righteousness is 
 in heaven ;" and " methought," he says, " I saw 
 with the eyes of my soul Jesus Christ at God's 
 right hand — there, I say, as my righteousness — 
 
110 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 for my righteousness was Christ himself, ' the 
 same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' Now did 
 my chains fall off my legs indeed ; I was loosed 
 from my afflictions and irons ; my temptations 
 also fled away ; so that from that time those 
 dreadful scriptures of God left off to trouble me. 
 Now went I also home rejoicing, for the grace 
 and love of God ; so when I came home I 
 looked to see if I could find that sentence, ' Thy 
 righteousness is in heaven,' but could not find 
 such a saying, (in the Bible,) wherefore my 
 heart began to sink again, only that w,as brought 
 to my remembrance, ' He is made unto us of 
 God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and 
 redemption,' 1 Cor.^, 30; by this word I saw 
 the other sentence true." 
 
 Having finished his relation of the " sorrow 
 and affliction" which for more than two years 
 he had endured by reason of the " guilt and ter- 
 ror" which this temptation had laid him under ; 
 and also given an account of his deliverance 
 therefrom, the "sweet and blessed comfort" of 
 which abode with him for almost a twelvemonth 
 to his " unspeakable admiration," he next pro- 
 ceeds to state what he considered to have been 
 the causes of his falling under this temptation. 
 These causes he conceives to have been the 
 following : First, that he did not, when deli- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAff. Ill 
 
 vered from his former temptation, pray that he 
 might be kept from future ones. He " prayed 
 only," he tells us, " or at the most principally, 
 for the removal of present troubles," and neg- 
 lected to pray that God would " keep him from 
 the evil that was to come ; " according to what 
 is written, " Pray that ye enter not into tempta- 
 tion," Luke xxii, 40. The other reason he as- 
 signs was, that on one occasion, when doubt 
 and unbelief assailed him, he had tempted God 
 by asking of him a sign whereby he might be 
 assured that the secret thoughts of the heart 
 were known to him. This, he tells us, was 
 about a year and a half before that extraordina- 
 ry temptation fell upon him. 
 
 It would thus appear that he regarded the 
 "fiery trial" with which he was tried as being 
 either a natural consequence of an omission of 
 duty, or a judicial visitation for what he con- 
 ceived to be a sin of presumption ; but we sus- 
 pect that few of our readers will consider either 
 or both the causes he assigns as sufficiently 
 accounting for that wilderness of temptation in 
 which he so long wandered, and his passage 
 through which was not less terrible than that 
 of his own Pilgrim through the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. 
 
 Many circumstances, in addition to those we 
 
112 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 have already mentioned, (pp. 52-56,) doubtless 
 concurred to occasion and aggravate Bunyan's 
 religious terrors. Not the least of these was 
 the want of some suitable mental occupation. 
 Having just emerged from the grossness and 
 vulgarity in which he had wasted his earlier 
 years, his strong and active mind was rapidly 
 developing itself, and he now needed some other 
 kind of employment besides that of "tinkering" 
 —something that would have enlisted his feel- 
 ings and required the exercise of his thoughts : 
 for the want of this his mind, having nothing 
 else on which to operate, naturally began to 
 prey upon itself, and his thoughts were contin- 
 ually fixed on his spiritual state. A strong im- 
 agination thus working upon a tender and not 
 very enlightened conscience, could scarcely 
 fail, in an individual holding the opinions which 
 Bunyan did, and circumstanced as he was, to 
 sink him to the deepest despondency. " He 
 wanted something to do that would have ex- 
 pended the surplus energies of his mind, or 
 compelled him to think of others as well as of 
 himself. Had GifTord set him to teach the poor 
 children of Elstow to read the Bible, on the 
 sabbath evenings or mornings, as well as set 
 him to the study of his own heart and experi- 
 ence, Bunyan would have plunged into the work, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 113 
 
 and thus lost sight of himself for the time in the 
 pleasure of doing good. When he began to 
 preach and write for the benefit of others, he 
 soon got over his personal fears." — Philip. 
 
 The desultory manner in which he had read 
 the Scriptures was also far from being calcu- 
 lated to settle the mind of a person harassed 
 with doubts and fears, and possessing but little 
 experience in spiritual things. Fixing his mind 
 on detached sentences, without properly regard- 
 ing the connection in which they stood, he was 
 often cast down and almost in despair by the 
 misapplication of texts which had no bearing on 
 his case, as he afterward found when he set 
 himself calmly and diligently to consider their 
 " scope and tendency." 
 
 Something must also be attributed to the 
 character of the times in which he lived. The 
 wildest opinions of every kind were abroad in 
 the land, especially on the subject of religion ; 
 the most strange and fanatical doctrines were 
 industriously propagated, with " every wind " of 
 which the ignorant and unstable were in danger 
 of being " carried away." Bunyan, it is true, 
 was mercifully preserved from embracing these 
 errors, yet, being continually presented to his 
 notice, they could not fail to add to the per- 
 plexity of a mind exercised as his then was. 
 8 
 
1 14 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 But the question will naturally arise, How fair 
 may Bunyan's temptations be attributed to the* 
 immediate agency of the evil one, to which he- 
 was accustomed, to the close of his life, to as- 
 cribe them ? There are some who ridicule the 1 
 idea of Satan's exercising any direct influence- 
 upon the human mind, while others, running 
 into the opposite extreme, refer to his immediate 
 operation every temptation and evil suggestion 
 with which the mind is assailed, thus clothing 
 him almost with the attribute of omnipresence. 
 The doctrine of the existence and agency of evil 
 spirits is too plainly revealed in Scripture to- 
 allow any Christian to doubt ;. but it will often 
 be difficult to determine when a man is " tempt- 
 ed of the devil," and when he is •* drawn away 
 of his own lust and enticed." There are, how- 
 ever, observes Mr; Philip,. " cases m which it 
 may safely be said, as in the case of sowing 
 tares, ' an enemy hath done this/ . . . When 
 blasphemies which are abhorrent to the mind, 
 and which can be traced to no blasphemous 
 book nor bad example, are yet rushing to the 
 lips, and raging in the thoughts, and maddening 
 the imagination, although the victim of them 
 would give worlds to get rid of them, they may 
 be safely ascribed to Satanic suggestion. Christ 
 says, indeed, that blasphemies proceed out of 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 115 
 
 the heart ; but he does not say that they do so 
 against the will, nor in spite of the prayer and 
 effort of the heart to suppress and forget them. 
 In such a case they are most likely what old 
 Ambrose calls them, ' rather fire-balls thrown 
 into a house, than flames from its own hearth.' " 
 
 Bunyan gives a much more satisfactory ac- 
 count of the advantages he derived from the 
 severe conflict through which he had just pass- 
 ed, than of the causes which led to it. Before 
 this he had often been assaulted with "unbe- 
 lief, and questions about the being of God, the 
 truth of the word, and the certainty of the world 
 to come ; " but now these atheistical doubts 
 ceased to molest him. 
 
 The agonizing distress he had suffered from 
 the application of certain texts which he sup- 
 posed to place him beyond the reach of mercy, 
 and the strong consolation he received when 
 he was enabled to lay hold by faith on some 
 Scripture promise, gave him such a sense of the 
 power and verity of the word of God, as he had 
 never before experienced. The Scriptures, he 
 tells us, were " wonderful things unto him ;" 
 one sentence, that seemed to set itself against 
 him, would " more afflict and terrify his mind 
 than an army of forty thousand men that might 
 come against him." 
 
116 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 He was also led to see more into the nature 
 of the promises than before ; for this temptation 
 had made him " with careful heart, and watch- 
 ful eye, with great fearfulness to turn over every 
 leaf; and with much diligence, mixed with 
 trembling, to consider every sentence, together 
 with its natural force and latitude." Before 
 this, if he did not feel comfort as soon as a pro- 
 mise presented itself to his mind, he put it by 
 as not meant for him ; " but now," he says, " it 
 was no time thus to do; the 'avenger of blood' 
 did too hardly pursue me. Therefore I was 
 glad to catch at that word, which yet I feared I 
 had no ground or right to own ; and even to leap 
 into the bosom of that promise that yet I feared 
 did shut its heart against me. Now also I would 
 labour to take the word as God hath laid it down, 
 without restraining the natural force of one syl- 
 lable thereof;" considering "that God had a 
 bigger mouth to speak with, than I had a heart 
 to conceive with. ... I would in these days, 
 often in my greatest agonies, even flounce to- 
 ward the promise, as the horses do toward 
 sound ground that yet stick in the mire ; con- 
 cluding, though as one almost bereft of his wits 
 through fear, on this will I rest and stay, and 
 leave the fulfilling of it to the God of heaven 
 *hat made it." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 117 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BUNYAN JOINS THE BAPTIST CHURCH AT BED- 
 FORD : HE BEGINS TO PREACH. 
 
 After Bunyan had thus been taken out of the 
 horrible pit and miry clay of despair, he united 
 himself with the Baptist Church at Bedford, un- 
 der the pastoral care of Mr. GifTord. This was 
 in 1655,* when he was about twenty-seven 
 years of age. We have already stated, although 
 this was professedly a Baptist Church, they did 
 not make adult baptism a term of membership, 
 nor consider a difference of sentiment on that 
 subject a bar to communion at the Lord's table. 
 The only condition required of those who wish- 
 ed to join them was, a profession of faith in 
 Christ, attended with holiness of life ; conse- 
 quently there were many Pedobaptists among 
 them. A majority of the members, however, 
 
 * Mr. Philip says in 1653 ; but this is evidently an 
 error. He takes that date from Ivimey, who gives, as 
 his authority, the Life of Bunyan prefixed to Heptinstall's 
 edition of the Pilgrim's Progress ; but on referring to that 
 Life I find that the date given there is 1655. Scott gives 
 the same date, as does also an old Memoir prefixed to 
 some editions of the Pilgrim, and written by one who 
 was a contemporary of Bunyan, and acquainted with him. 
 
118 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 were Baptists, as was Bunyan himself, who, 
 though he mentions not the fact in his narrative, 
 was admitted by baptism, the ceremony being 
 probably performed in the River Ouse. The 
 only account he gives of his reception is the 
 following : — " I propounded to the church, that 
 my desire was to walk in the order and ordi- 
 nances of Christ with them, and was also ad- 
 mitted by them." * 
 
 Bunyan's conversion exerted an influence for 
 good on some of those who had been his com- 
 panions in sin. He tells us that he had " in- 
 fected all the youth of the town where he was 
 born with all manner of youthful vanities ; " but 
 on his reformation, he says, " the contagion was 
 much allayed all the town over. When God 
 made me sigh, they would hearken, and inqui- 
 ringly say, ' What is the matter with John ? ' . . . 
 When I went out to seek the bread of life, some 
 of them would follow, and the rest be put into a 
 muse at home. Yea, almost the town, at first, 
 at times, would go out to hear at the place where 
 I found good ; yea, young and old for awhile 
 
 * This church has ever since continued to be governed ' 
 by the same liberal and Christian principles as those on 
 which it was first organized. At the present day, how- 
 ever, a majority of the members, as well as the pastor, 
 (the Rev. Samuel Hillyard,) are said to be Pedobaptists. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. H9 
 
 lhad some reformation on them: also some of 
 them, perceiving that God had mercy upon me, 
 •came crying to him for mercy too." 
 
 When he first began to communicate with 
 his brethren in the sacrament of the Lord's sup- 
 per, these words of our Saviour, " Do this in 
 aremembrance of me," were very "precious" to 
 him ; " for by them," he says, " the Lord did 
 come down upon my conscience with the disco- 
 very of his death for my sins ; and as I then 
 felt, did as if he plunged me in the virtue of the 
 same." * But he had not been long a partaker 
 of this ordinance before he was assailed therein 
 with fierce temptations "both to blaspheme the 
 ordinance, and to wish some deadly thing to 
 those that did then eat thereof;" so that he 
 found it needful " to bend himself all the while 
 to pray to God, lest he should at any time be 
 guilty of consenting to these wicked and fearful 
 thoughts." The cause of his being harassed, 
 when at the sacrament, with these temptations, 
 which he continued to be for about nine months, 
 he afterward thought was, because he did not 
 at the first approach with becoming reverence 
 to partake thereof. 
 
 * There seems to me in this passage an intended use 
 of terms which should express the views of both classes 
 in his church on the mode of baptism. — Philip. 
 
120 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 No one who has read the previous part of this 
 narrative will be surprised to hear that Bun- 
 yan's health was at this time in such a state 
 that he was thought to be in a consumption. 
 Indeed, " the only wonder," as Mr. Philip re- 
 marks, " is, that this did not occur sooner : for 
 as Bunyan was highly nervous, as well as sen- 
 sitive, his health was as much endangered as 
 his spirits," by his long-continued mental ex- 
 citement and suffering. " Even his happy mo- 
 ments were perilous to health ; and will remind 
 some readers of the emphatic lines of a Scotch 
 
 poet, — 
 
 4 O ! hold my head 1 
 This gush o' pleasure 's like to be my dead. 1 
 
 He had indeed an iron frame ; and he needed 
 it, for he had a soul of fire. The latter, how- 
 ever, overheated the former at last, and for a time 
 seemed consuming it." 
 
 Being, by a sudden and violent attack, re- 
 duced to such extreme weakness that he 
 "thought he could not live," he set himself, 
 according to his "usual course in the day of 
 affliction," to examine afresh into his spiritual 
 state, and his interest in the life to come. But, 
 he tells us, he had no sooner begun to recall to 
 his mind his former experience of the goodness 
 of God to his soul, than there came flocking into 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 121 
 
 his mind an innumerable company of his sins, 
 of which those that gave him most affliction 
 were his deadness, dulness, and coldness in his 
 holy duties ; his wanderings of heart, his wea- 
 riness in all good things, his want of love to 
 God, &c. ; and then the inquiry suggested itv 
 self, "Are these the fruits of Christianity? Are 
 these the tokens of a blessed man ? " 
 
 Thus for a season did the clouds of despond- 
 ency again return and darken his spirit. He 
 felt as though he could not live, and yet was not 
 fit to die. But one day, as he was pacing to 
 and fro in his house, " as a man in a most woful 
 state," these words of God " took hold of his 
 heart :" — "Ye are justified freely by his grace, 
 through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." 
 At this his fear of death was dispelled by an 
 assurance of the free mercy of God. He says, 
 " O what a turn it made upon me ! I was as 
 one awakened out of some troublesome sleep 
 and dream. . . . Now was I got on high ; I saw 
 myself within the arms of grace and mercy ; 
 and though I was before afraid to think of a 
 dying hour, yet now I cried, ' Let me die ! ' Now 
 was death lovely and beautiful in my sight, for 
 I saw that we shall never live indeed till we be 
 gone to the other world. O, methought, this 
 life is but a slumber in comparison with that 
 
122 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 above. At this time also I saw more in these 
 words, 'Heirs of God,' (Rom. vii, 17,) than ever 
 I shall be able to express while I live in this 
 world. 'Heirs of God ! ' God himself is the 
 portion of the saints. This I saw and wonder- 
 ed at ; but cannot tell you what I saw." 
 
 At another time, when he was extremely sick 
 and weak, the tempter again grievously assault- 
 ed him, labouring to hide from him his former 
 experience of God's goodness, and setting before 
 him the terrors of death and judgment, insomuch 
 that he " was as one dead before death came," 
 and felt as though he were already descending 
 into the pit. " Methought," he says, " there 
 was no way, but to hell I must !" But while he 
 was in the midst of these fears, the account of 
 Lazarus being carried by angels to Abraham's 
 bosom suddenly darted in upon him, as though 
 it was said to him, " So shall it be when thou 
 dost leave this world." These words of the 
 apostle, " death ! where is thy sting ? O 
 grave ! where is thy victory ? " also fell with great 
 weight upon his mind. "At this," he says, " I 
 became well, both in my body and mind, at once ; 
 for my sickness did presently vanish, and I 
 walked comfortably in my work for God again." 
 
 Not long after this he was suddenly visited 
 with another " great cloud of darkness " which 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 123 
 
 so hid from him the things of God and Christ, 
 that it seemed as though he had never seen or 
 known them in his life. " I was also," he says, 
 " so overrun in my soul with a senseless, heart- 
 less frame of spirit, that I could not feel my soul 
 to move or stir after grace and life by Christ ; 
 I was as if my loins were broken, or as if my 
 hands and feet had been tied or bound with 
 chains. At this time also I felt some weakness 
 to seize upon my outward man,* which made 
 the other affliction still more heavy and uncom- 
 fortable to me. 
 
 " After I had been in this condition some 
 three or four days, as I was sitting by the fire, 
 I felt this word to sound in my heart, 'I must 
 go to Jesus.' At this my darkness fled away, 
 and the blessed things of heaven were set in 
 my view." He could not recollect whether the 
 words which had thus revived his spirit were to 
 be found in the Bible ; he therefore puts the 
 question to Mrs. Bunyan ; and from his appeal- 
 ing to her for information we may safely infer 
 that she, as well as himself, was a diligent 
 reader of the sacred volume. " Wife," said he, 
 " is there ever such a scripture, ' I must go to 
 
 * We here see again the close connection there was 
 between Bunyan's visitations of spiritual despondency 
 and of physical weakness. 
 
124 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Jesus 1 ' " She said she could not tell. The 
 precise words, as he quoted them, do not occur ; 
 but the idea floating in his mind was drawn from 
 Hebrews xii, 22-24. He had not sat above 
 two or three minutes before the words, " and to 
 an innumerable company of angels," came hott- 
 ing in upon him ; and immediately the whole 
 of that sublime passage " about the Mount Sion" 
 was set before his eyes. 
 
 " Then," he says, " with joy I told my wife, 
 ' O ! now I know, I know ! ' That night was a 
 good night to me ; I never had but few better. 
 I longed for the company of some of God's peo- 
 ple, that I might have imparted unto them what 
 God had shewed me. Christ was a precious 
 Christ to my soul that night. I could scarce 
 lie in my bed for joy, and peace, and triumph, 
 through Christ. This great glory did not con- 
 tinue upon me until morning ; yet the twelfth 
 chapter of Hebrews was a blessed scripture to 
 me for many days together after this. 
 
 " The words are these : ' Ye are come to 
 Mount Sion, to the city of the living God, to the 
 heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable com- 
 pany of angels, to the general assembly and 
 church of the first-born, which are written in 
 heaven ; to God the Judge of all, and to the 
 spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 125 
 
 the Mediator of the New Testament, and to the 
 blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things 
 than that of Abel.' Through this sentence the 
 Lord led me over and over again ; first to this 
 word, and then to that ; and shewed me won- 
 derful glory in every one of them. These words 
 also have oft since that time been a great re- 
 freshment to my spirit." 
 
 About five or six years after he was first 
 awakened, and but a few months after he had 
 formally united with the church, Bunyan was 
 earnestly desired by some of the most pious and 
 judicious members thereof to take a more pro- 
 minent part in their religious exercises, by oc- 
 casionally speaking a word of exhortation to 
 the people. This, at first, his modesty and a 
 feeling of unfitness for the work induced him to 
 decline ; but his brethren being convinced, from 
 his promptness in prayer, his wonderful ac- 
 quaintance with Scripture, and his readiness 
 of utterance, that he possessed gifts which 
 might and ought to be used for the edification 
 of the church, continued their entreaties, until 
 at length, though with much diffidence, he con- 
 sented to their request, " and did twice," he 
 tells us, " at two several assemblies, (but in pri- 
 vate,) discover his gift among them ; at which 
 ihey not only seemed to be, but did solemnly 
 
126 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 protest, as in the sight of the great God, they 
 were both affected and comforted; and gave 
 thanks to the Father of mercies for the grace 
 bestowed on him." 
 
 After this some of his brethren, who were in 
 the habit of going into the neighbouring villages 
 to teach, occasionally induced him to accom- 
 pany them, when he " would sometimes speak a 
 word of admonition" to the societies at their 
 private meetings. At length, being encouraged 
 thereto by a sense of duty, by the approbation 
 of those who had heard him, and by the con- 
 tinued desires of the church, he was, after so- 
 lemn prayer and fasting, " more particularly 
 called forth and appointed to a more ordinary 
 and public preaching of the word." 
 
 At the same time with Bunyan, seven others 
 of the congregation were solemnly set apart to 
 the same work, which appears to have been 
 similar to that of a " local preacher" among the 
 early Methodists ; for we find that Bunyan con- 
 tinued in the exercise of his vocation as a tinker 
 for some years after this. His ministerial work 
 was doubtless what Southey terms it, " a roving 
 commission to itinerate in the villages round 
 about ;" and this work occupied so much of his 
 time, that when in the ensuing year (1657) he 
 was nominated a deacon, the church declined 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 127 
 
 electing him to that office, on the ground that 
 he was too much engaged to attend to it.* 
 
 Bunyan entered upon his ministerial labours 
 with fear and trembling, and a deep sense of 
 his unworthiness ; for he was at that time, he 
 tells us, sorely afflicted with doubts concerning 
 his spiritual state. The issue, however, proved, 
 that his brethren who had first encouraged him 
 to the work had not judged wrongly in suppos- 
 ing that he was calculated for public and emi- 
 nent usefulness. No sooner was it rumoured 
 abroad that Bunyan, the profane tinker, had 
 turned preacher, than the people flocked by 
 hundreds, from all parts round about, to hear 
 him. They were drawn together by various 
 motives, chiefly perhaps by curiosity ; but one 
 feeling only moved the heart of the preacher, 
 and that was an earnest, longing desire to "find 
 out such a word as might, if God would bless 
 it, lay hold of, and awaken the conscience" of 
 those who heard him. In this desire he was 
 not disappointed, for he had not preached long 
 before some of his hearers " began to be touch- 
 ed, and greatly afflicted in their minds," under 
 a conviction of their sinfulness and their need 
 of a Saviour. 
 
 * About this time Gifford died, and was succeeded in 
 the pastorship by a preacher named John Burton. 
 
128 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " But at first," says Bunyan, " I could not 
 believe that God should speak by me to the 
 heart of any man, still counting myself unwor- 
 thy : yet those who were thus touched would 
 love me, and have a particular respect for me ; 
 and though I did put it from me that they should 
 be awakened by me, still they would confess 
 it, and affirm it before the saints of God. . . 
 Wherefore seeing them in both their words 
 and deeds to be so constant, and also in their 
 hearts so earnestly pressing after the knowledge 
 of Jesus Christ, rejoicing that ever God did send 
 me where they were ; then I began to conclude 
 it might be so, that God had owned in his work 
 such a foolish one as I ; and then came that 
 word of God to my heart with much sweet re- 
 freshment, 'The blessing of them that were rea- 
 dy to perish is come upon me ;. yea, I caused 
 the widow's heart to sing for joy,' Job xxix, 13. 
 
 " At this, therefore, I rejoiced ; yea, the tears 
 of those whom God did awaken by my preach- 
 ing would be both solace and encouragement to 
 me. I thought on these sayings, ' Who is he 
 that maketh me glad, but the same that is made 
 sorry by me V 2 Cor. ii, 2 : and again, 'Though 
 I be not an apostle to others, yet doubtless I am 
 unto you : for the seal of my apostleship are ye 
 in the Lord,' 1 Cor.ix,2. These things therefore 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 129 
 
 were as another argument unto me that God had 
 called me to, and stood by me in this work." 
 
 One instance of his usefulness is too remark- 
 able to be omitted. He was to preach in a 
 country village in Cambridgeshire ; and the 
 people being gathered together in the church- 
 yard, a Cambridge scholar, and none of the 
 soberest of them either, passing that way, in- 
 quired what that concourse of people was, it 
 being on a week day ; and being told that one 
 Bunyan, a tinker, was to preach there, he gave 
 a boy two pence to hold his horse, saying, he 
 was resolved " to hear the tinker prate ;" and so 
 he went into the church and heard him.* But 
 God met him there by his word, so that he came 
 out much changed, and for a long time he de- 
 sired to hear no preacher but the " tinker." He 
 became a sincere convert, and was afterward 
 himself an eminent minister of the gospel in 
 that county. 
 
 The character of Bunyan's preaching took its 
 colouring, in a great measure, from his own per- 
 sonal hopes and fears. At first his discourses 
 
 * During the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell the pa- 
 rish churches were open to evangelical ministers of all 
 denominations, and Bunyan sometimes preached in them ; 
 but notwithstanding his success and popularity as a preach- 
 er, he never applied for an appointment to any living;. 
 9 
 
130 LIFE OF JOHN BTJNYAST. 
 
 were chiefly awakening and alarming ; setting 
 forth the curse of God that was upon men, be- 
 cause of sin. " This part of my work," he says,, 
 " I fulfilled with great sense, [feeling,} for the 
 terrors of the law, and the guilt of my transgres- 
 sions, lay heuvy upon my conscience. I preach- 
 ed what I felt — what I smartingly did feel — 
 even that under which my poor soul did groan 
 and tremble to astonishment. Indeed, I have 
 been as one sent to them from the dead. I went 
 myself in chains, to preach to them in chains ; 
 and carried that fire in my own conscience that 
 I persuaded them to be aware of. I can truly 
 say, and that without dissembling, that when I 
 have been to preach, I have gone full of guilt 
 and terror even to the pulpit door, and there it 
 hath been taken off, and I have been at liberty 
 in my mind until I have done my work ; and 
 then immediately, even before I could get down 
 the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I was 
 before : yet God carried me on, but surely with 
 a strong hand, for neither guilt nor hell could 
 take me off my work." 
 
 In this strain he continued to preach, " crying 
 out against men's sins, and their fearful state 
 because of them," for the space of two years, 
 when he happily attained a more joyful state of 
 mind, the Lord giving him many sweet disco- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 131 
 
 veries of his grace through Christ. " Where- 
 fore now," he says, " I altered in my preach- 
 ing, (for still I preached what I saw and felt ;) 
 now therefore I did much labour to hold forth 
 Jesus Christ in all his offices, relations, and 
 benefits to the world, and did strive also to dis- 
 cover, condemn, and remove those false sup- 
 ports and props on which the world doth lean, 
 and by them fall and perish. On these things 
 also I stayed as long as on the other." 
 
 But whatever the aspect in which he pre- 
 sented the truths of religion to his hearers, he 
 was all the time drawn out in earnest prayer to 
 God " that he would make the word effectual to 
 the salvation of the soul." Frequently, when 
 he had concluded the exercises, it went to his 
 heart to think that the word had fallen " as rain 
 in stony places ;" and he tells us that he often 
 said in his heart, before the Lord, " that if to be 
 hanged up presently before their eyes would be 
 a means to awaken them, and confirm them in 
 the truth, I gladly should be contented." 
 
 He was never satisfied unless he saw some 
 good effected by his preaching. " If I were 
 fruitless," he says, " it mattered not who com- 
 mended ; but if I were fruitful, I cared not who 
 did condemn." 
 
 So greatly did he rejoice over his spiritual 
 
132 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 children, that he reckoned himself as possessing 
 great treasures in every place where he had 
 been instrumental in the conversion of souls. 
 On this subject the following passages, with 
 others of a like nature, were very refreshing to 
 him : — " He that converteth a sinner from the 
 error of his way doth save a soul from death," 
 James v, 20. " The fruit of the righteous is a 
 tree of life ; and he that winneth souls is wise," 
 Prov. xi, 30. " They that turn many to right- 
 eousness shall shine as the stars for ever and 
 ever," Dan. xii, 3. " For what is our hope, our 
 joy, or crown of rejoicing 1 Are not even ye 
 in the presence of our Lord at his coming 1 For 
 ye are our glory and joy." 1 Thess. ii, 19, 20. 
 On the other hand, he tells us, that when any 
 of those who had been awakened by his minis- 
 try fell back, it grieved him as much as if one 
 of his own children had gone to the grave. 
 Nothing, except the fear of losing his own soul, 
 went so near to him as that. 
 
 In the exercise of his ministry his practice 
 was to get into the "darkest" places in the 
 neighbourhood ; " not," he says, " because he 
 could not endure the light, but because he found 
 his spirit lean most after awakening and con- 
 verting work." Like St. Paul, too, he preferred 
 " to preach the gospel where Christ was not 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 133 
 
 named," lest he should "build upon another 
 man's foundation," Rom. xv, 20. 
 
 As regards the subjects on which he dis- 
 coursed, he remarks that while he " contended 
 with great earnestness for the word of faith, and 
 the remission of sins by the death and suffer- 
 ings of Jesus," he never cared to meddle with 
 those things respecting which there was a dif- 
 ference of opinion among Christians ; especially 
 such as were of small moment ; because he 
 found that they engendered strife, while neither 
 the doing nor the neglecting of them was any 
 mark of a person's being a child of God. 
 
 In his preaching, he tells us, he not unfre- 
 quently found " a word cast in by the by" to pro- 
 duce more good than all the rest of the sermon. 
 Sometimes, too, when he thought he had done 
 no good, then he had done most of all ; and at 
 other times, when he " thought he should have 
 catched them," he found he had "fished for 
 nothing." 
 
 In performing the duties of his ministry he 
 was often sorely afflicted with temptations of 
 various kinds. " Sometimes," he says, " I should 
 be assaulted with great discouragement therein, 
 fearing I should not be able to speak a word at 
 all to edification ; nay, that I should not be able 
 to speak sense unto the people ; at which times 
 
134 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 I should have such a strange faintness and 
 strengthlessness seize upon my body, that my 
 legs have been scarce able to carry me to the 
 place of exercise. Sometimes, again, when I 
 have been preaching, I have been violently as- 
 saulted with thoughts of blasphemy, and strong- 
 ly tempted to speak the words with my mouth 
 before the congregation. I have also at some- 
 times, even when I have begun with much 
 liberty of speech, yet been, before the end of 
 that opportunity, so straightened as to utterance 
 before the people, that I have been as if I had 
 not known or remembered what I have been 
 about ; or as if my head had been in a bag all the 
 time of my exercise. 
 
 " Again, sometimes, as I have been about to 
 preach upon some smart and searching portion 
 of the word, I have found the tempter suggest, 
 1 What ! will you preach this ? this condemns 
 yourself; wherefore preach not of this at all; 
 or if you do, yet so mince it, as to make way 
 for your own escape.' . . . But I thank the Lord, 
 I have been kept from consenting to these hor- 
 rid suggestions, and have rather, as Samson, 
 bowed myself with all my might, to condemn 
 sin wherever I found it ; yea, though therein 
 also I did bring guilt upon my own conscience. 
 * Let me die,' thought I, ' with the Philistines,' 
 
 1 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 135 
 
 rather than deal corruptly with the blessed word 
 of God. Judges xvi, 20, 30, 
 
 " I have also, while found in this blessed 
 work of Christ, been often tempted to pride and 
 liftings up of heart :* and though I dare not 
 say I have not been affected with this, yet truly 
 the Lord, of his precious mercy, hath so carried 
 it toward me, that for the most part I have had 
 but small joy to give way to such a thing ; for 
 it hath been my every day's portion to be let 
 into the evil of my own heart, and still made to 
 see such a multitude of corruptions and infirmi- 
 ties therein, that it hath caused hanging down 
 of the head, under all my gifts and attainments. 
 
 '* I have also (at such times) had some nota- 
 ble place or other of the word presented before 
 me, which contained some sharp and piercing 
 sentence concerning the perishing of the soul, 
 notwithstanding gifts and parts ; as for instance, 
 this hath been of great use to me : * Though I 
 speak with the tongues of men and of angels, 
 
 * The following anecdote occurs in one of Top. 
 Lady's works : — Mr. John Bunyan having preached one 
 day with peculiar warmth and enlargement, some of his 
 friends, after service was over, took him by the hand, and 
 could not help observing what a sweet sermon he had 
 delivered. " Ay," said the good man, " you need not 
 remind me of that, for the devil told me of it before I 
 was out of the pulpit." 
 
136 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 and have not charity, I am become as sounding 
 brass, and a tinkling cymbal. And though I 
 have the gift of prophecy, and understand all 
 mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have 
 all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and 
 have not charity, I am nothing,' 1 Cor. iii, 1,2." 
 From all accounts it appears that Bunyan 
 was not only a zealous and devoted preacher, — 
 that was to be expected from his piety and the 
 native warmth of his character, — but also a 
 highly acceptable and successful one. Nor is 
 this to be wondered at. Though in the com- 
 mon acceptation of the word an unlearned, he 
 was by no means an ignorant man, for he was 
 evidently a shrewd observer of both men and 
 things ; and if his reading was hitherto chiefly 
 confined to the Bible, it must be remembered that 
 he studied that with such an extraordinary in- 
 tensity of interest, that few, even in that age, 
 were more " mighty in the Scriptures." He 
 possessed, too, all the requisites of natural ora- 
 tory, — deep feeling, a vivid imagination, strong 
 sense, and a ready utterance : above all, his 
 hearers felt that he was in earnest, and had 
 their interest deeply at heart. Such a preacher 
 could not fail to produce a prodigious effect upon 
 his auditory. " His powerful and piercing 
 words," observes one of his cotemporaries, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 137 
 
 " brought tears into the eyes, and melted the 
 hearts " of his hearers.* 
 
 The same writer adds, " By this time his 
 family was increased, and as that increased God 
 increased his stores, so that he lived now in 
 great credit among his neighbours, who were 
 amazed to find such a wonderful reformation in 
 him ; that from a person so vile as he had been 
 should spring up so good a Christian : and peo- 
 ple who had heard his circumstances came 
 many miles to hear him, and were highly satis- 
 fied ; so that, telling their neighbours, more 
 crowded after him, insomuch that the place was 
 many times too strait for them ; for although he 
 often confessed he had fears upon him, and 
 doubts, and sometimes tremblings, inward evil 
 suggestions, and temptations, before he stood 
 up to speak, yet he no sooner began to utter the 
 word of God than they all vanished ; he grew 
 warm with a fervent zeal, and nothing obstruct- 
 ed his delivery." — Old Memoir. 
 
 * Burton, (the successor of Gifford,) then pastor of the 
 church, said of Bunyan, " He hath through grace taken 
 three heavenly degrees, namely : union with Christ, — the 
 anointing of the Spirit, — and experience of temptation ; 
 which do more fit a man for the weighty work of preach- 
 ing the gospel, than all the university learning and de- 
 grees that can be had." 
 
138 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Bunyan was not, however, allowed to exer- 
 cise his ministry without opposition. " When 
 I first began to preach," he says, " the doctors 
 and priests of the country did open wide against 
 me : but I was persuaded of this, — not to ren- 
 der railing for railing ; but to see how many of 
 their carnal professors I could convince of their 
 miserable state by the law, and of the want and 
 worth of Christ." In 1657 (the year after he 
 commenced preaching) an indictment was pre- 
 ferred against him, as appears from the follow- 
 ing entry in the church book still preserved at 
 Bedford : — " On the 25th December, 1657, the 
 church resolved to set apart a day for seeking 
 counsel of God, what to do with respect to the 
 indictment against brother Bunyan at the assizes, 
 for preaching at Eaton."* The action was 
 probably dropped, as we hear no more about it, 
 and Bunyan was present at the church meet- 
 ings in February and July of 1658. 
 
 * Some surprise may be felt that such a persecution 
 should have been set on foot under the government of 
 Cromwell ; but Dr. Southey remarks, with truth, that 
 " there was much more persecution during the pro- 
 tectorate than Cromwell would have allowed if he could 
 have prevented it." The lawfulness of public preaching 
 by men not ordained was, indeed, at that time a point 
 warmly debated, the Presbyterians in general maintain- 
 ing the negative with as lofty pretensions to divine right 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUN VAN. 139 
 
 The malignity of his enemies appears to have 
 increased in proportion to the popularity and 
 success of his preaching ; and the vilest slan- 
 ders were, by ignorant and malicious persons, 
 " whirled up and down the country" against him. 
 It was rumoured that he was a witch, a Jesuit, 
 a highwayman, and even a libertine ; charges 
 which he repelled with just and virtuous indig- 
 nation. " These slanders," he says, " I glory 
 in, because but slanders and falsehoods cast 
 upon me by the devil and his seed ; and should 
 I not be dealt with thus wickedly by the world, 
 I should want one sign of a saint, and a child 
 of God. ' Blessed are ye,' said the Lord Jesus, 
 ' when men shall revile and persecute you, and 
 shall say all manner of evil against you falsely 
 for my sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad ; 
 for great is your reward in heaven : for so per- 
 secuted they the prophets which were before 
 you.' Matt, v, 11, 12. 
 
 " These things, therefore, upon mine own 
 account, troubled me not. No, though they 
 were twenty times more than they are, I have 
 
 as had been asserted by the champions of prelacy ; so as 
 to draw forth Milton's biting sarcasm, — 
 
 " New presbyter is but old priest writ large." 
 It is probable, however, that personal enmity occasioned 
 this attempt to check Bunyan's usefulness.— -Conder. 
 
140 LIFE OF JOHN EUNYAN. 
 
 a good conscience ; and whereas they speak 
 evil of me, as of an evil doer, they shall be 
 ashamed that falsely accuse my good conversa- 
 tion in Christ. 
 
 " So then what shall I say to those who have 
 thus bespattered me 1 Shall I threaten them ? 
 Shall I chide them ? Shall I natter them ? Shall 
 I entreat them to hold their tongues ? No, not I. 
 Were it not for that these things make them 
 ripe for damnation that are the authors and 
 abettors, I would say unto them, Report it, be- 
 cause it will increase my glory. 
 
 " Therefore I bind these lies and slanders to 
 me as an ornament ; it belongs to my Christian 
 profession to be vilified, slandered, reproached, 
 and reviled ; and since all this is nothing else, 
 as my God and my conscience do bear me wit- 
 ness, I rejoice in reproaches for Christ's sake. 
 
 " But as for mine accusers, let them provide 
 themselves to meet me before the tribunal of 
 the Son of God, there to answer for all these 
 things, with all the rest of their iniquities, un- 
 less God shall give them repentance for them, 
 for the which I pray with all my heart." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 141 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 bunyan's first publication : CONTROVERSY 
 
 WITH THE QUAKERS. 
 
 Shortly after he began to preach, Bunyan felt 
 himself called to take up his pen in defence of 
 the doctrines of the gospel, against the heresies 
 then propagated by the people called Quakers- 
 These Quakers, who were then a new sect, 
 having originated during the commotion of the 
 civil wars, were a very different people from 
 their successors of the present day. No body 
 of professors were more full of fanaticism, or 
 more eager to attack those who differed from 
 them. Baxter, who frequently came in contact 
 with them, thus describes their tenets and con- 
 duct : — " They were but the Ranters, turned 
 from horrid profaneness and blasphemy to a life 
 of extreme austerity on the other side. Their 
 doctrines were mostly the same with the Rant- 
 ers ; they made the light which every man had 
 within him to be his sufficient rule ; and con- 
 sequently the Scriptures and ministry were set 
 light by. They spake much for the dwelling* 
 and working of the Spirit in us, but little of 
 justification, and the pardon of sin, and our re- 
 
142 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 conciliation with God through Jesus Christ. 
 They pretend their dependance on the Spirit's 
 conduct, against set times of prayer, and against 
 sacraments, and against their due esteem of 
 Scripture and ministry. They will not have 
 the Scriptures called the word of God , their 
 principal zeal lieth in railing at the ministers as 
 hirelings, deceivers, false prophets, &c. ; and 
 in refusing to swear before a magistrate, or to 
 put off their hat to any, &c. At first they did 
 use to fall into tremblings, and sometimes vomit- 
 ings, in their meetings, and pretended to be vi- 
 olently acted on by the Spirit ; but now that is 
 ceased. They only meet, and he that pretend- 
 eth to be moved by the Spirit speaketh ; and 
 sometime* they say nothing, but sit an hour or 
 more in silence, and then depart. One while 
 divers of them went naked through the several 
 chief towns and cities of the land, as a prophe- 
 tical act : some of them have famished and 
 drowned themselves in melancholy ; and others 
 have undertaken, by the power of the Spirit, to 
 raise the dead. They have oft come into the con- 
 gregation, when I had liberty to preach Christ's 
 gospel, and cried out against me as a deceiver of 
 the people. They have followed me home, cry- 
 ing out in the streets, ' The day of the Lord is 
 coming, when thou shalt perish as a deceiver.' " 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 143 
 
 Such were the men against whose erroneous 
 teachings Bunyan felt it his duty to warn the 
 people, which he did in a pamphlet, entitled, 
 " Some Gospel Truths opened according to the 
 Scriptures : or the Divine and Human Nature 
 in Christ Jesus ; his coming into the World ; 
 his Righteousness, Death, Resurrection, Ascen- 
 sion, Intercession, and second coming to Judg- 
 ment, plainly demonstrated and proved." This 
 work, which was Bunyan's first literary per- 
 formance, appeared in 1656, the year in which 
 he began to preach, with a commendatory pre- 
 face by Burton. 
 
 " An ill judgment," observes Dr. Southey, 
 " might be formed of this treatise, from that 
 part of the title which promises ' profitable di- 
 rections to stand fast in the doctrine of Jesus, 
 the son of Mary, against those blustering storms 
 of the devil's temptations, which do at this day, 
 like so many scorpions, break loose from the 
 bottomless pit, to bite and torment those that 
 have not tasted the virtue of Jesus, by the re- 
 velation of the Spirit of God.' little wisdom 
 and less moderation might be expected in a 
 polemical discourse so introduced. It is, how- 
 ever, a calm, well-arranged, and well-supported 
 statement of the Scriptural doctrines on some 
 momentous points which the primitive Quakers 
 
144 LIFE OF JOHN BTJNYAN. 
 
 were understood by others to deny ; and which, 
 in fact, (though they did not so understand 
 themselves,) they frequently did deny, both vir 
 tually and explicitly, when in the heat and acer- 
 bity of oral disputation they said, they knew not 
 what ; and also, when, under the same belief of 
 immediate inspiration, they committed to writ- 
 ing whatever words came uppermost, as fast as 
 the pen could put them down, and subjected to 
 no after revision what had been produced with 
 no forethought." 
 
 This is strong commendation ; but Mr. Philip 
 goes still further ; he says, " It sweeps the 
 whole circle of the Messiahship of Jesus, and 
 that with a strict logic and in a pure taste. I 
 can never read it without thinking of Dr. Smith's 
 ' Scripture Testimony.' It has all the convinc- 
 ing power of that masterly work, although it 
 acquires that power from common sense alone. 
 . . . For ordinary readers^ it is perhaps the best 
 thing against Socinianism they could read. In 
 this point of view it deserves to be republished 
 and circulated among the poor ; for its bearings 
 against old Quakerism are its least merit." 
 
 In this treatise, observes the same writer, 
 Bunyan does not name " any minister or book 
 of the Quakers ; with the exception of seven 
 questions to them, at the end of it, he does not 
 
UFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 145 
 
 even plead with them, but with those who ' lis- 
 tened to them.' " His knowledge of their doc- 
 trine he probably derived from their own lips ; 
 for it appears he had often heard them, and had 
 also, like Baxter, been sometimes interrupted 
 and reviled by them while he was preaching. 
 
 To Bunyan's treatise, Edward Burroughs, 
 a noted man among the Quakers in those days, 
 published a reply under the following title, 
 " The True Faith of the Gospel of Peace con- 
 tended for in a Spirit of Meekness ; and the 
 Mystery of Salvation (Christ within, the Hope 
 of Glory) vindicated in the Spirit of Love, 
 against the Secret Opposition of John Bunyan, 
 a professed Minister in Bedfordshire." These 
 mild and loving words, however, served but to 
 introduce a most virulent and abusive tirade, of 
 the spirit of which the following passages may 
 be taken as a specimen : — " The Lord rebuke 
 thee, thou unclean spirit, who hast falsely ac- 
 cused the innocent to clear thyself from guilt ; 
 but at thy door guilt lodges, and I leave it with 
 thee ; clear thyself, if thou art able. And thy 
 wicked reproaches we patiently bear, till the 
 Lord appear for us : and we are not greater 
 than our Lord, who was said to have a devil, by 
 thy generation ; and their measure of wicked- 
 ness thou fulfils, and art one of the dragon's 
 10 
 
146 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAIT. 
 
 army against the Lamb and his followers ; an^ 
 thy weapons are slanders, and thy refuge is 
 lies ; and thy work is confused, and hath hardly 
 gained a name in Babylon's record. ... If we 
 should diligently search,, we should find thee, 
 through feigned words, through covetousness, 
 making merchandise of souls, loving the wages 
 of unrighteousness : and such were the scoffers 
 whom Peter speaks of, among whom thou art 
 found in thy practice, among them who are 
 preaching for hire, and love the error of Balaam, 
 who took gifts and rewards." 
 
 To Burroughs' pamphlet Bunyan published 
 an answer, vindicating his former treatise, and 
 maintaining that the Quakers held substantially 
 the same opinions that the Ranters had formerly 
 done, " only that the Ranters had made them 
 threadbare at an alehouse, and the Quakers had 
 set a new gloss upon them again by an outward 
 legal holiness or righteousness." To the charge 
 of preaching for hire, and making merchandise 
 of souls, he replied thus : — " Friend, dost thou 
 speak this as frpm thy own knowledge, or did 
 any other tell thee so ? However, that spirit 
 that led thee out of this way is a lying spirit ; 
 for though I be poor and of no repute in the 
 world, as to outward things, yet this grace I 
 have learned, by the example of the apostle, to 
 
ilfE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 147 
 
 preach the truth ; and also to work with mine 
 own hands, both for mine own living, and for 
 those that are with me, when I have opportu- 
 nity. And I trust that the Lord Jesus, who 
 hath helped me to reject the wages of unright- 
 eousness 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." 
 
 Burroughs returned to the charge in another 
 pamphlet, as full of bitterness as his former one. 
 Of this second effusion, however, Bunyan took 
 no notice ; he had "delivered his soul" respect- 
 ing what he conceived to be the errors of the 
 new sect ; and having done so, he was too use- 
 fully employed, and too peacefully disposed, to 
 continue the controversy for controversy's sake. 
 
 From what has been said, it will be seen 
 that Bunyan's first attempt at authorship was a 
 much more creditable one than could have 
 been expected from a young man of twenty- 
 eight, circumstanced as he was, and whose 
 education had been so miserably defective. His 
 frequent perusal of the Bible, however, observes 
 Dr. Southey, "had made him fully competent to 
 state what those doctrines were which the Qua- 
 kers impugned : he was ready with the Scrip- 
 tural proofs ; and in a vigorous mind like his, 
 right reasoning naturally results from right pre- 
 
148 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 mises. Burton may have corrected some vul- 
 garism in the expression, as well as written the 
 preface, but other corrections, except in the or- 
 thography, would not be needed." The printers, 
 if they set up the work from the original manu- 
 script, must at times have been not a little per- 
 plexed in deciphering it, if we may judge from 
 some specimens still preserved of Bunyan's 
 handwriting about this time, a fac-simile of one 
 of which will be found in the present volume. 
 
 Whether the Quakers, as a body, held the 
 erroneous doctrines charged upon them by Bun- 
 yan and others, may be seriously doubted ; but 
 that they were inculcated by some of the more 
 intemperate zealots among them is too well at- 
 tested to admit of successful contradiction ; and 
 on some of the points in dispute many of the 
 leaders of the sect have written so equivocally 
 that the Orthodox and Socinian Quakers of the 
 present day both appeal to them in support of 
 their respective tenets. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 149 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ABRIDGMENT OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY: BUNYAN's 
 ARREST AND EXAMINATIONS. 
 
 Bunyan continued freely to preach the gospel, 
 without any serious interruption, for upward of 
 four years, when a great change took place in 
 the nation, in consequence of the death of 
 Cromwell, and the restoration of the royal fa- 
 mily. 
 
 Previously to Charles' being recalled to Eng- 
 land, he was visited in Holland by some emi- 
 nent divines, whom he deceived by an affecta- 
 tion of sanctity,* and encouraged by promises 
 of liberality in ecclesiastical matters, so that the 
 expectations of the people were highly raised 
 in prospect of his return. 
 
 Sir Matthew Hale, who was then chief jus- 
 tice, had proposed, that before the king should 
 be recalled, some restriction should be placed 
 upon his authority, by which he should be pre- 
 vented from infringing the civil or religious 
 
 * While they were with him he went into a room ad- 
 joining the one they were in, and there, as if engaged in 
 his secret devotions, repeated some long prayers, suffi- 
 ciently loud for them to hear him through the partition. 
 
150 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 liberties of the people ; but the confidence of 
 the parliament was such that this advice was 
 overruled, and Charles was permitted to assume 
 the government without any other restraints than 
 " a few oaths, which he swallowed without scru- 
 ple, and afterward broke without remorse." 
 
 After the king was settled on the throne he 
 threw off the mask, and gave the lie to his 
 former professions. The high-Churchmen soon 
 had it all their own way. Episcopacy was again 
 established by law, and no other form of religion 
 tolerated ; and the old penal laws against dis- 
 senters were restored and enforced, and new 
 ones enacted. In the persecution which* fol- 
 lowed, Bunyan had the honour of being one of 
 the earliest victims. 
 
 All assemblies for religious worship, except 
 such as were according to the forms of the es- 
 tablished Church, being now forbidden under 
 severe penalties, Bunyan and his followers, not 
 from fear, but to avoid giving needless offence, 
 thought it prudent to hold their meetings more 
 privately than they had hitherto done. Some- 
 times they would meet in a stable, and some- 
 times in barns and other similar places ; but 
 these were not so secret but that prying eyes got 
 an inlet, and at times they were disturbed by 
 order of the justice, with threats that if they 
 
XIFE OF JOHN BUN Y AN. 151 
 
 repeated their meetings they must expect no 
 favour. 
 
 Bunyan had engaged, in compliance with a 
 request he had received, to preach at a place 
 called Samsell, in Bedfordshire, on the twelfth 
 of November-, and this being known, a justice, 
 named Wingate, issued a warrant to apprehend 
 him, and placed a strong watch about the house 
 in which the meeting was to be held, " as if," 
 says Bunyan, " we that were to meet together 
 did intend to do some fearful business, to the 
 destruction of the country!" 
 
 Had he been disposed to " play the cow- 
 ard,'.' he might, he tells us, have escaped ; 
 for as soon as he reached the house his host 
 informed him of what was in the wind, and, 
 being somewhat timorous, suggested whether it 
 would not be better for him to depart without 
 holding the meeting ; to which Bunyan replied, 
 f No, by no means ; I will not stir ; neither will 
 I have the meeting dismissed for this. Come, 
 be of good cheer, let us not be daunted ; our 
 cause is good, we need not be ashamed of it ; 
 to preach God's word, it is so good a work, 
 that we shall be well rewarded if we suffer 
 for that." 
 
 After he had received the warning from his 
 friend, he walked out, and seriously considered 
 
152 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the whole matter, reasoning thus with himself: 
 — " I have shewed myself hearty and courage- 
 ous in my preaching, and made it my business 
 to encourage others ; and therefore if I should 
 now run and make an escape, it will be of a 
 very ill favour in the country ; for what will my 
 weak and newly-converted brethren think of it, 
 but that I was not so strong in deed as I was in 
 word. Also I feared that if / should run now 
 there was a warrant out for me, I might by so 
 doing make them afraid to stand when great 
 words only should be spoken to them. Besides, 
 I thought, that seeing God of his mercy should 
 choose me to go upon the forlorn hope in this 
 country, that is, to be the first that should be 
 opposed for the gospel — if I should fly it might 
 be a discouragement to the whole body that 
 might follow after. And further, I thought the 
 world thereby would take occasion at my cow- 
 ardliness to have blasphemed the gospel, and to 
 have some grounds to suspect worse of me and 
 my profession than I deserved." 
 
 Influenced by these considerations, he return- 
 ed to the house " with a full determination to 
 hold the meeting, and not to go away ; for I was 
 resolved," he says, " to see the utmost of what 
 they could say or do unto me." Accordingly, 
 the people assembled to the number of about 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 153 
 
 forty persons, and he commenced the exercises ; 
 but just as he did so the justice's man, with the 
 constable, entered the room, and commanded 
 him to come down from his stand. Bunyan 
 mildly replied that he was about his Master's 
 business, and must rather obey his voice than 
 that of man. The constable being then ordered 
 to fetch him down, went and laid hold on him 
 for that purpose ; but no sooner did Bunyan, 
 who at the time had the Bible open in his hand, 
 fix his eyes steadfastly upon him, than he relin- 
 quished his grasp, grew pale, and retired ; upon 
 which the preacher, turning to his congregation, 
 said, " See how this man trembles at the word 
 of God." 
 
 As it would have been useless to resist, Bun- 
 yan, after speaking a few words of counsel and 
 encouragement to the people, dismissed them,* 
 and went with the constable to the justice's 
 house ; but the justice not being at home, he 
 
 * Speaking of his arrest, in the preface to his Confes- 
 sion of Faith, he says, " The subject I should have 
 preached upon, even then when the constable came, was, 
 ' Dost thou believe on the Son of God ? ' from whence I 
 intended to show the absolute need of faith in Jesus 
 Christ ; and that it was also a thing of the highest con- 
 cern for men to inquire into, and to ask their own hearts 
 whether they had it or no." 
 
154 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 was allowed to remain at large on a friend's en- 
 gaging for his being forthcoming on the morrow 
 When he appeared the next day, the justice 
 questioned him as to what he did at the meet- 
 ing, and why he did not confine himself to his 
 proper calling ; to which Bunyan replied, that 
 the intent of his going there and to other places 
 was, to exhort people to forsake their sins and 
 come to Christ, that they might not perish eter- 
 nally ; and that he could, without confusion, 
 attend to his worldly business, and preach the 
 gospel too. This reply seemed to excite the 
 anger of the justice, who said he would "break 
 the neck of their meetings," and, unless sureties 
 were produced, would commit the prisoner to 
 jail. Bunyan had his sureties with him ; but 
 when he learned that they must be bound to 
 keep him from preaching, he said that he could 
 not desist from speaking the word of God, and 
 exhorting the people among whom he came, 
 which he thought was a work that deserved 
 commendation rather than blame. Upon this 
 the justice told him he must be sent to the jail, 
 and lie there till the quarter sessions. 
 
 At this time one Dr. Lindale (a clergyman, 
 and an old enemy of Bunyan's) came in and 
 began to taunt and revile him, and demanded 
 what authority he had for preaching. Finding, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 155 
 
 however, that the tinker was more than a match 
 for him in Scriptural argument, he attempted to 
 play his wit upon him, and said, (alluding to 
 Bunyan's calling,) " that he remembered to have 
 read of one Alexander, a coppersmith, who did 
 much oppose and disturb the apostles :" Bun- 
 yan replied, that " he also had read of very many 
 priests and Pharisees that had their hands in 
 the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ." "Ay," 
 rejoined Lindale, " and you are one of those 
 scribes and Pharisees ; for you, with a pretence, 
 make long prayers, to devour widows' houses." 
 " I answered," says Bunyan, "that if he (Dr. L.) 
 had got no more by preaching and praying than 
 I had done, he would not be so rich as he 
 now was." 
 
 On his way to prison he was met by two of 
 his brethren, who desired the constable to stay 
 awhile, thinking that through the influence of a 
 pretended friend they could prevail on the justice 
 to set him at liberty. When they returned they 
 told Bunyan that he might be released if he 
 would go back and " say some certain words." 
 He replied, that if he could say them with a 
 good conscience he would ; but not otherwise. 
 Yielding to their entreaties he went back, but 
 with little expectation of deliverance ; for he 
 feared that those who had committed him were 
 
156 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 too much opposed to the truth to release him, 
 " unless he should in something or other dis- 
 honour his God, and wound his conscience." 
 
 " When I came to the justice again," he says, 
 " there was Mr. Forster, of Bedford, who, com- 
 ing out of another room, and seeing me by the 
 light of the candle, (for it was dark night when 
 I went thither,) he said unto me, ' Who is 
 there ? John Bunyan V with such seeming affec- 
 tion, as if he would have leaped on my neck 
 and kissed me ; (a right Judas !) which made 
 me somewhat wonder, that such a man as he, 
 with whom I had so little acquaintance, and 
 besides, that had ever been a close opposer of 
 the ways of God, should carry himself so full 
 of love to me : but afterward, when I saw what 
 he did, it caused me to remember those sayings, 
 1 Their tongues are smoother than oil, but their 
 words are drawn swords.' And again, ' Beware 
 of men,' &c. 
 
 " When I had answered him that, blessed be 
 God, I was well, he said, ' What is the occa- 
 sion of your being here?' or to that purpose. 
 To whom I answered, that I was at a meeting 
 of people a little way off, intending to speak a 
 word of exhortation to them ; but the justice 
 hearing thereof, (said I,) was pleased to send 
 his warrant to fetch me before him, &c. ' So,' 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 157 
 
 said he, ' I understand : but well, if you will 
 promise to call the people no more together, 
 you shall have your liberty to go home ; for my 
 brother is very loath to send you to prison, if 
 you will be but ruled.' ' Sir,' said I, ' pray what 
 do you mean by calling the people together ? 
 my business is not anything among them, when 
 they are come together, but to exhort them to 
 look after the salvation of their souls, &c.' He 
 said that was none of my work ; I must follow 
 my calling, and if I would but leave off preach- 
 ing, and follow my calling, I should have the 
 justice's favour, and be acquitted presently." 
 
 To this, and more of a similar import, Bun- 
 yan replied, that his conscience would not suf- 
 fer him to make any such promise ; for he con- 
 sidered it his duty to do as much good as he 
 could, not only in his trade, but also in commu- 
 nicating religious instruction whenever he had 
 an opportunity. 
 
 Forster said that none came to hear him but 
 a company of foolish people. He replied, that 
 the wise came as well as the foolish ; and that 
 those that were most commonly counted foolish 
 by the world, were the wisest before God. 
 
 Being told, that by preaching on the week 
 days he made the people neglect their callings, 
 and that God had commanded them to work six 
 
158 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 days, and serve him on the seventh, he answer- 
 ed, " that it was the duty of people, both rich 
 and poor, to look out for their souls on these 
 days as well as for their bodies ; and that God 
 would have his people ' exhort one another daily, 
 while it is called to-day.' " 
 
 Forster again affirming that Bunyan's hearers 
 were "poor, simple, ignorant people," he replied, 
 that " the foolish and ignorant had most need of 
 teaching and information ; and that therefore 
 it would be profitable for him to go on in that 
 work*" 
 
 After some further talk on the subject, finding 
 that Bunyan was not to be moved from his point, 
 Forster, who at first had expressed so much 
 regard for him, told the justice that he must 
 send him to prison, and that he would also do 
 well to present those who had invited him to 
 come and preach** 
 
 ' Thus they parted ; " and verily," says Bun- 
 yan, " as I was going forth of the doors, I had 
 much ado to forbear saying to them, that I car- 
 ried the peace of God along with me : but I held 
 my peace* and, blessed be the Lord, went away 
 to prison with God's comfort in my poor soul." 
 
 * This Forster signalized himself some years afterward 
 by his officious zeal in persecuting the Nonconformists 
 at Bedford. See on page 222 of this volume. 
 
LIFE Of JOHN BUNYAN. 159 
 
 After he had lain in prison five or six days, 
 some of his friends made another effort to pro- 
 cure his enlargement, by giving bonds for his 
 appearance at the sessions; for his mittimus 
 stated that he was to lie in jail till he could find 
 sureties ;• but the magistrate to whom they ap- 
 plied, though at first he had promised to take 
 bail, afterward refused to do so. " At this," 
 says Bunyan, " I was not at all daunted, but 
 rather glad, and saw evidently that the Lord 
 had heard me ; for before I went down to the 
 justice, I begged of God, that if I might do 
 more good by being at liberty than in prison, 
 then I might be set at liberty j but if not, his 
 will be done ; for I was not altogether without 
 hope but that my imprisonment might be an 
 awakening to the saints in the country ; there- 
 fore I could not tell well which to choose ; only 
 I in that manner did commit the thing to God. 
 And verily, at my return, I did meet my God 
 sweetly in the prison again, comforting of me, 
 and satisfying of me that it was his will and 
 mind that I should be there." 
 
 At the quarter sessions for the county, which 
 were held at Bedford in January, 1661, near 
 two months after his commitment, Bunyan was 
 brought up and examined before five justices 
 — Keeling, Chester, Blundalc, Beecher, and 
 
160 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Snagge. The substance of the examination we 
 give from Bunyan's own account. 
 
 The bill of indictment preferred against him 
 ran to this effect :— " That John Bunyan, of the 
 town of Bedford, labourer, being a person of 
 such and such conditions, hath (since such a 
 time) devilishly and perniciously abstained from 
 coming to church to hear divine service, and is a 
 common upholder of unlawful meetings and con- 
 venticles, to the great disturbance and distraction 
 of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to 
 the laws of our sovereign lord the king," &c. 
 
 " After this was read," says Bunyan, " the 
 clerk of the sessions said unto me, ' What say 
 you to this V I said, that as to the first part of 
 it, I was a common frequenter of the church of 
 God ; and was also, by grace, a member of the 
 people over whom Christ is the head. 
 
 " ' But,' said Justice Keeling, who was the 
 judge in that court, ' do you come to church ; — 
 you know what I mean, to the parish church, — 
 to hear divine service V I answered, No, I did 
 not. ' He asked me why. I said, Because I 
 did not find it in the word of God. He said we 
 were commanded to pray. I said, ' But not by 
 the Common Prayer-book.' He said, * How then V 
 I said, ' With the spirit ; as the apostle saith, 
 " I will pray with the spirit, and with the un- 
 
 
1TFE OP JOHN BttNYAN. 161 
 
 ^erstanding." ' He said, we might pray with 
 the spirit, and with the understanding, and with 
 the Common Prayer-book also. I said, that the 
 prayers in the Common Prayer-book were such 
 as were made by other men, and not by the mo- 
 tions of the Holy Ghost in our hearts ; and the 
 apostle saith, he will pray with the spirit and 
 with the understanding ; not with the spirit and 
 the Common Prayer-book. 
 
 " One of the justices said, ' What do you 
 count prayer 1 Do you think it is to say a few 
 words over, before or among a people V I said, 
 * No, not so ; for men might have many elegant 
 or excellent words, and yet not pray at all : but 
 when a man prayetk, he doth, through a sense 
 of those things which he wants, (which sense 
 is begotten by the Spirit,) pour out his heart 
 before God, through Christ : though his words 
 be not so many, and so excellent as others are/ 
 They said, that was true. I said, this might be 
 done without the Common Prayer-book. 
 
 " One of them said, ' How should we know 
 that you do not write out your prayers first, and 
 then read them afterward to the people?' This 
 he spake in a laughing way. I said, ' It is not 
 our use to take a pen and paper, and write a 
 few words thereon, and then go and read it over 
 to a company of people.' 
 11 
 
162 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " ' But,' said Justice Keeling, ' it is lawful to 
 use the Common Prayer, and such like forms ; 
 for Christ taught his disciples to pray, as John 
 also taught his disciples.' And further, said he, 
 ' Cannot one man teach another to pray ? " Faith 
 comes by hearing ;" and one man may convince 
 another of sin ; and therefore prayers made by 
 men, and read over, are good to teach, and help 
 men to pray.' 
 
 " While he was speaking these words, God 
 brought that word in Rom. viii, 26, into my mind : 
 I say God brought it, for I thought not on it 
 before ; but as he was speaking it came so fresh 
 into my mind, and was set so evidently before 
 me, as if the scripture had said, ' Take me, take 
 me ;' so when he had done speaking I said, ' Sir, 
 the Scripture saith, that "it is the Spirit that 
 helpeth our infirmities ; for we know not what 
 we should pray for as we ought ; but the Spirit 
 itself rnaketh intercession for us, with groanings 
 which cannot be uttered." Mark,' said I, ' it 
 doth not say that the Common Prayer-book teach- 
 eth us how to pray, but the Spirit ; . . . and 
 though one man may tell another hoic he should 
 pray ; yet, as I said before, he cannot pray, nor 
 make his condition known to God, except the 
 Spirit help. It is not the Common Prayer-book 
 that can do this. It is the Spirit that sheweth 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 163 
 
 us our sins, and the Spirit that sheweth us a 
 Saviour ; and the Spirit that stirreth up in our 
 hearts desires to come to God for such things 
 as we stand in need of, even sighing out our 
 souls to him for them, with groans which can- 
 not be uttered.' " At this, and other remarks 
 to the same effect, he tells us the justices 
 were " set.'''' 
 
 Keeling then asked him what objections he 
 had to the Common Prayer-book ? He gave his 
 reasons for not using it ; adding, " But yet, not- 
 withstanding, they that have a mind to use it, 
 they have their liberty ; that is, I would not 
 keep them from it ; but for our parts, we can 
 pray to God without it, blessed be his name." 
 
 " With that one of them said, ' Who is your 
 God, Beelzebub V Moreover, they often said 
 that I was possessed with the spirit of delusion, 
 and of the devil : all which sayings I passed 
 over. The Lord forgive them ! And further, I 
 said, ' Blessed be the Lord for it, we are encou- 
 raged to meet together, and to pray and exhort 
 one another ; for we have the comfortable pre- 
 sence of God among us ; for ever blessed be his 
 holy name.' 
 
 "Justice Keeling then called this 'pedlar's 
 French;' saying that I must leave off my 'cant- 
 ing.' The Lord open his eyes ! 
 
164 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " I said that we ought, to ' exhort one another 
 daily, while it is called to-day,' &c. Justice 
 Keeling said, that I ought not to preach ; and 
 asked me where I had my authority ; with other 
 such like words. I said, that I would prove that 
 it was lawful for me, and for such as 1 am, to 
 preach the word of God. He said unto me, 
 ' By what scripture ? ' I said, by that in 1 Pet. 
 iv, 11; and Acts xviii ; with others, which he 
 would not suffer me to mention ; but said, ' Hold, 
 not so many ; which is the first ? ' 
 
 " I said, ' This : " As every man hath re- 
 ceived the gift, even so let him minister the 
 same unto another, as good stewards of the ma- 
 nifold grace of God. If any man speak, let 
 him speak as the oracles of God," &c.' 
 
 " He said, ' Let me a little open that scrip- 
 ture to you : " As every man hath received the 
 gift," that is,' said he, ' as every man hath re- 
 ceived a trade, so let him follow it. If any man 
 hath received a gift of tinkering, as thou hast 
 done, let him follow his tinkering. And so 
 other men their trades ; and the divine his call- 
 ing, &c.' 
 
 " ' Nay, sir,' said I, ' but it is most clear that 
 the apostle speaks here of preaching the word. 
 If you do but compare both the verses together, 
 the next verse explains this gift, what it is, say- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 165 
 
 ing, " If any man speak, let him speak as the 
 oracles of God:" so then it is plain that the 
 Holy Ghost doth not so much in this place ex- 
 hort to civil callings, as to the exercise of those 
 gifts that we have received from God.' I would 
 have gone on, but he would not give me leave. 
 
 " He said, we might do it in our families, but 
 not otherways. I said, if it were lawful to do 
 good to some, it was lawful to do good to more. 
 If it were a good duty to exhort our families, it 
 was good to exhort others ; but if they held it 
 a sin to meet together to seek the grace of God, 
 and exhort one another to follow Christ, I should 
 sin still ; for so we should do. 
 
 " He said he was not so well versed in Scrip- 
 ture as to dispute, or words to that purpose ; and, 
 moreover, that they could not wait upon me any 
 longer; but said to me, 'Then you confess the 
 indictment, do you not 1 ' Now, and not till now, 
 I saw that I was indicted. I said, 'This I con- 
 fess, 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 ; therefore, I confess my- 
 self guilty, and no otherwise.' 
 
 " ' Then,' said he, ' hear your judgment. You 
 must be had back again to prison, and there lie 
 
166 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 for three months following ; and at three months' 
 end, if you do not submit to 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, or be found to come 
 over again without special license from the king, 
 you must stretch for it ; I tell you plainly.' And 
 so he bid my jailer have me away. 
 
 " I told him, as to this matter I was at a 
 point with him ; for if I were out of prison to- 
 day, I would preach the gospel again to-mor- 
 row, by the help of God. To which some one 
 made answer, but my jailer pulling me away to 
 be gone, I could not tell what he said. 
 
 " Thus I departed from them ; and I can truly 
 say, I bless the Lord Jesus Christ for it, that 
 my heart was sweetly refreshed in the time of 
 my examination, and also afterward, at my return- 
 ing to the prison ; so that I found Christ's words 
 more than bare trifles, where he saith r ' I will 
 give you a mouth and wisdom, which all your 
 adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor re- 
 sist,' Luke xxi, 15." 
 
 The admissions made by Bunyan in this exa- 
 mination being thus taken for a confession of 
 the indictment, he was remanded to prison, 
 where, on the third of April, he was visited 
 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 167 
 
 by Mr. Cobb, the clerk of the peace, who, as 
 he said, was sent by the justices to admonish 
 him, and demand his submission to the Church 
 of England. Bunyan has recorded the substance 
 of the discourse that was held between them, 
 and from his account we give the following : — 
 
 " When he was come into the house he sent 
 for me out of my chamber ; and when 1 was 
 come to him, he said, ' Neighbour Bunyan, how 
 do you do ?' 'I thank you, sir,' I said, 'very well, 
 blessed be the Lord.' 
 
 " Saith he, ' I come to tell you, that it is de- 
 sired you would submit to the laws of the land, 
 or else at the next sessions it will go worse 
 with you, even to be sent away out of the na- 
 tion ; or else worse than that.' 
 
 " I said, ' Sir, I conceive that the law by 
 which I am in prison at this time doth not con- 
 demn me or the meetings that I frequent. That 
 law was made against those, that being design- 
 ed to do evil in their meetings, making the 
 exercise of religion their pretence to cover their 
 wickedness. It doth not forbid the private 
 meetings of those that plainly and simply make 
 it their only end to worship the Lord, and ex- 
 hort one another to edification. My end in 
 meeting with others is simply to do as much 
 good as I can, by exhortation and counsel, ac- 
 
168 LIFE OF JOHN BUN VAN. 
 
 cording to that small measure of light which 
 God hath given me ; and not to disturb the peace 
 of the nation.* 
 
 " ' Every one will say the same,' said he ; 
 
 * you see the late insurrection in London, under 
 what glorious pretences they went,- and yet 
 indeed they intended no less than the ruin of 
 the kingdom and commonwealth/* 
 
 " ' That practice of theirs I abhor,* said I ; 
 
 * yet it doth not follow that because they did so, 
 
 * The insurrection alluded to is that headed by one 
 Thomas Venner, a cooper, who held forth at a small 
 meeting house in the city. This man had excited a few 
 enthusiasts, like himself, with the expectation of a "fifth 
 monarchy," under the personal reign of King Jesus, and 
 that the saints were to take the kingdom to themselves. 
 To introduce this imaginary kingdom, they marched out 
 of their meeting house on Sunday, January 6, 1661, to 
 the number of about fifty men, well armed, with a reso- 
 lution to subvert the present government, or die in the 
 attempt. At first they successfully resisted several com- 
 panies sent against them, defending themselves with 
 desperate resolution ; but on Wednesday, after Venner, 
 their leader, had been knocked down, and about half 
 their number killed, they were compelled to surrender. 
 This mad insurrection was greedily laid hold of by the 
 court as a plea for the adoption of severe measures 
 against the dissenters ; and a proclamation was immedi- 
 ately issued, forbidding Baptists, Quakers, and Fifth- 
 Monarchy men, to hold meetings for public worship. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 169 
 
 therefore all others will do so. I look upon it 
 as my duty to behave myself under the king's 
 government both as becomes a man and a Chris- 
 tian ; and if an occasion were offered me, I 
 should willingly manifest my loyalty to my 
 prince, both by word and deed.' 
 
 " ' Well ' said he, ' I do not profess myself to 
 be a man that can dispute ; but this I say truly, 
 neighbour Bunyan, I would have you consider 
 this matter seriously, and submit yourself. You 
 may have your liberty to exhort your neighbour 
 in private discourse, so be you do not call toge- 
 ther an assembly of people ; and truly you may 
 do much good to the church of Christ, if you 
 would go this way ; and this you may do, and 
 the law not abridge you of it. It is your private 
 meetings that the law is against.' 
 
 " ' Sir,' said I, 'if I may do good to one 
 by my discourse, why may I not do good to 
 two ? and if to two, why not to four, and so to 
 eight? &c.' 
 
 " ' Ay,' saith he, ' and to a hundred, I war- 
 rant you.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said I, ' I think I should not be 
 forbid to do as much good as I can.' 
 
 " ' But,' said he, ' you may but pretend to do 
 good, and instead, notwithstanding, do harm, by 
 seducing the people. You are therefore denied 
 
170 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 your meeting so many together, lest you should 
 do harm.' 
 
 " ' And yet,' said I, ' you say the law tole- 
 rates me to discourse with my neighbour ; surely 
 there is no law tolerates me to seduce any one ; 
 therefore if I may by the law discourse with 
 one, surely it is to do him good ; and if I by 
 discoursing may do good to one, surely, by the 
 same law, I may do good to many.' 
 
 " ' The law,' saith he, ' doth expressly forbid 
 your private meetings ; therefore they are not 
 to be tolerated.' 
 
 " I told him that I would not entertain so 
 much uncharitableness of that parliament in the 
 35th of Elizabeth, or of the queen herself, as to 
 think they did by that law intend the oppressing 
 of any of God's ordinances, or the interrupting 
 any in the way of God. Men may, in the wrest- 
 ing of it, turn it against the way of God ; but 
 take the law in itself, and it only nghteth against 
 those that drive at mischief in their meetings, 
 making religion only their cloak or pretence ; 
 for so are the words of the statute : — ' If 
 any meetings under colour or pretence of reli- 
 gion,' &c. 
 
 " ' Very good,' he replied, ' therefore the king 
 (seeing that pretences are usually in and among 
 people, so as to make religion their pretence 
 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 171 
 
 only) doth forbid such private meetings, and 
 tolerates only public. You may meet in public' 
 
 " ' Sir,' said I, ' let me answer you in a simi- 
 litude : set the case that at such a wood corner 
 there did usually come forth thieves to do mis- 
 chief ; must there therefore be a law made that 
 every one that cometh out there shall be killed ? 
 May there not come out from thence true men, 
 as well as thieves ? Just thus it is in this case : 
 I do think there may be many that design the 
 destruction of the commonwealth; but it doth 
 not follow therefore that all private meetings are 
 unlawful. Those that transgress, let them be 
 punished ; and if at any time I myself should 
 do any act in my conversation as doth not be- 
 come a man and a Christian, let me bear the 
 punishment. And as for your saying I may 
 meet in public, if I may be suffered I would 
 gladly do it. I do not meet in private because 
 I am afraid to have meetings in public. I bless 
 the Lord that my heart is at that point, that if 
 any man can lay anything to my charge, either 
 in doctrine or in practice, in this particular, that 
 can be proved error or heresy, I am willing to 
 disown it, even in the very market-place. But 
 if it be truth, then to stand to it to the last drop 
 of my blood.' 
 
 *' ' But, good-man Bunyan,' said he, ' me- 
 
172 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 thinks you need not stand so strictly upon this 
 one thing, as to have meetings of such public 
 assemblies. Cannot you submit, and notwith- 
 standing do as much good as you can, in a 
 neighbourly way, without having such meet- 
 ings?' 
 
 " ' Truly, sir,' said I, ' I do not desire to com- 
 mend myself, but to think meanly of myself; . . 
 yet when I see that the Lord, through grace, 
 hath in some measure blessed my labour, I dare 
 not but exercise that gift which God hath given 
 me, for the good of the people.' And I said 
 further, that ' I would willingly speak in public 
 if I might.' 
 
 " He said, ' You may come to the public as- 
 semblies and hear. What though you do not 
 preach ? you may hear. Do not think yourself 
 so well enlightened, and that you have received 
 a gift so far above others, but that you may hear 
 other men preach.' 
 
 " I told him, I was as willing to be taught 
 as to give instruction, and I looked upon it as 
 my duty to do both ; for (said I) a man that is 
 a teacher, he himself may learn also from an- 
 other that teacheth ; as the apostle saith, ' We 
 may all prophesy one by one, that all may 
 learn,' 1 Cor. xiv, 31. 
 
 " ' But,' said he, « what if you should forbear 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 173 
 
 awhile, and sit still, till you see further how- 
 things will go V 
 
 " ' Sir,' said I, ' Wickliffe saith, that he which 
 leaveth off preaching and hearing the word of 
 God for fear of excommunication of men, is al- 
 ready excommunicated of God, and shall in the 
 day of judgment be counted a traitor to Christ.' 
 
 " ' Ay,' saith he, ' they that do not hear shall 
 be so counted indeed ; do you therefore hear.' 
 
 " ' But, sir,' said I, ' he saith, he that shall 
 leave off either preaching or hearing, &c. That 
 is, if he hath received a gift for edification, it is 
 his sin if he doth not lay it out in a way of ex- 
 hortation and counsel, according to the propor- 
 tion of his gift.' 
 
 " ' But,' said he, ' how shall we know that 
 you have received a gift ? ' 
 
 " Said I, ' Let any man hear and search, and 
 prove the doctrine by the Bible.' 
 
 " ' But will you be willing,' said he, ' that two 
 indifferent persons should determine the case, 
 and will you stand by their judgment?' 
 
 " I said, ' Are they infallible V 
 
 " He said, ' No.' 
 
 " ' Then,' said I, 'it is possible my judgment 
 may be as good as theirs. But yet I will pass 
 by either, and in this matter be judged by Scrip- 
 ture : I am sure that is infallible, and cannot err. 
 
174 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " ' But,' said he, ' who shall be judge between 
 you ? for you take the Scriptures one way, and 
 they another.' 
 
 " I said, 'The Scripture should ; and that by 
 comparing one scripture with another ; for that 
 will open itself, if it be rightly compared.' 
 
 " ' But are you willing,' said he, ' to stand to 
 the judgment of the Church 1 ' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said I, 'to the approbation of the 
 church of God ; (the church's judgment is best 
 expressed in Scripture.') 
 
 " ' Well, neighbour Bunyan,' said he, ' but 
 indeed I wish you seriously to consider of these 
 things, between this and the quarter sessions, 
 and to submit yourself. You may do much 
 good if you still continue in the land ; but alas ! 
 what benefit will it be to your friends, or what 
 good can you do to them, if you should be sent 
 away beyond the seas into Spain, or Constanti- 
 nople, or some other remote part of the world ? 
 Pray be ruled.' 
 
 " ' Indeed, sir,' said the jailer, ' I hope he will 
 be ruled.' 
 
 '"I shall desire,' said I, ' in all godliness and 
 honesty to behave myself in the nation whilst I 
 am in it ; and if I must be so dealt withal, as 
 you say, I hope God will help me to bear what 
 they shall lay upon me. I know no evil that I 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 175 
 
 have done in this matter, to be so used. I speak 
 as in the presence of God? 
 
 " ' You know,' said he, ' that the Scripture 
 saith, " The powers that be are ordained of 
 God." ' 
 
 " I said, ' Yes, and that I am to submit " to 
 the king as supreme, and also to the governors, 
 as to them who are sent by him." ' 
 
 " ' Well, then,' said he, ' the king commands 
 that you should not have any private meetings, 
 because it is against his law, and he is ordained 
 of God, therefore you should not have any.' 
 
 " I told him, 'Paul did own the powers that 
 were in his day to be of God ; and yet he was 
 often in prison under them, for all that. And 
 also, though Jesus Christ told Pilate that he had 
 no power against him, but of God, yet he died 
 under the same Pilate. And yet,' said I, ' I 
 hope you will not say that either Paul or Christ 
 were such as did deny magistracy, and so sin- 
 ned against God in slighting the ordinance. 
 Sir,' said I, 'the law hath provided two ways 
 of obeying ; the one to do that which I in my 
 conscience do believe that I am bound to do, 
 actively ; and when I cannot obey actively, then 
 I am willing to lie down and suffer what they 
 shall do unto me.' At this he sat still and said 
 no more ; which when he had done, I did thank 
 
176 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 him for his civil and meek discoursing with me , 
 and so we parted. O that we might meet in 
 heaven!" 
 
 It would appear that the guileless simplicity 
 of Bunyan could see nothing in Cobb's visit but 
 a benevolent effort to persuade him not to pro- 
 voke the severity of the law, but to desist from 
 preaching, at least for a time, or until some fa- 
 vourable change in affairs should take place ; 
 but the fact that he was sent on his errand by 
 the very persons who had procured the preach- 
 er's arrest and imprisonment, and the decided 
 hostility which he afterward manifested to Bun- 
 yan, are, we think, sufficient proofs that he was 
 actuated on this occasion by no kindly feelings 
 toward the prisoner. 
 
 But the question may be asked, whether Bun- 
 yan, circumstanced as he was, might not, with- 
 out any sacrifice of principle, have complied 
 with the terms proposed as the condition of 
 his release; namely, to desist from preaching? 
 If he had done so, he might still, as Cobb 
 urged, have done " much good in a neighbourly 
 way," whereas his continuance in prison seem- 
 ed effectually to cut him off, not only from the 
 public ministration of the word, but also from 
 every other mode of advancing the cause of 
 religion, besides depriving him of the means of 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 179 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MRS. BUNYAN APPLIES TO THE JUDGES FOR 
 HER HUSBAND'S RELEASE. 
 
 About three weeks after Cobb's visit, and just 
 when the time drew nigh at which Bunyan, if 
 he did not submit, was to suffer banishment, or 
 " worse than that," the coronation of the king 
 took place. This was on the 23d of April, 
 1661, on which occasion a general pardon was 
 proclaimed of persons accused of offences against 
 the crown, and thousands who had been commit- 
 ted for nonconformity and other offences were set 
 at liberty. Bunyan might also have taken the ben- 
 efit of this, had not the justices put him down for a 
 convicted person; and as such he could not be 
 released without suing out a pardon, for which 
 twelve months were allowed by the proclamation. 
 At the next assizes, which were held in Au- 
 gust, 1661, Bunyan, not willing to leave unat- 
 tempted any lawful means that might possibly 
 effect his release, presented several times, 
 through his wife, a petition to the judges, " that 
 he might be heard, and that they would take his 
 case impartially into consideration." What suc- 
 cess she met with will be seen from what follows. 
 
180 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 The first time Mrs. Bimyan went, she pre- 
 sented the petition to Judge Hale, who very 
 mildly received it, and told her he would do the 
 best he could; but he feared he could do nothing. 
 
 The next day, fearing lest in the press of 
 business they should forget the subject, she 
 threw another petition into the coach, to Judge 
 Twisdon ; but when he saw it, he angrily told 
 her, that her husband was a convicted person, 
 and could not be released unless he would pro- 
 mise to leave off preaching. 
 
 After this she presented another petition to 
 Judge Hale, as he sat on the bench, and he 
 seemed willing to give her a hearing; but 
 Justice Chester, who was present, telling him 
 that Bimyan was a hot-spirited fellow, he waived 
 the matter, and declined interfering. 
 * Encouraged however by the high sheriff, Mrs. 
 Bunyan made another effort to procure her hus- 
 band's release before the judges left the town. 
 The " two judges, and many justices and gentry 
 of the country, were in company together at the 
 Swan-chamber." With " a bashed face and 
 a trembling heart" she entered the room. Ad- 
 dressing herself to Judge Hale, she said, " I 
 make bold to come once again to your lordship, 
 to know what may be done with my husband." 
 
 He replied, " I have told thee before that I 
 
 i 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 181 
 
 could do thee no good ; because they have taken 
 that for a conviction which thy husband spoke 
 at the sessions : and unless there can be some- 
 thing done to undo that, I can do thee no good." 
 
 " My lord," said she, " he is kept unlawfully 
 in prison ; they clapped him up before there was 
 any proclamation against the meetings. The 
 indictment also is false : besides, they never 
 asked him whether he was guilty or no ; neither 
 did he confess the indictment." 
 
 One of the justices that stood by said, that 
 he had been lawfully convicted. 
 
 " It is false," she replied ; " for when they 
 said to him, ' Do you confess the indictment V 
 he said only this, that he had been at several 
 meetings where there was both preaching the 
 word and prayer, and that they had God's pre- 
 sence among them." 
 
 " My lord, he was lawfully convicted," said 
 Justice Chester. 
 
 " It is false," said she ; " it was but a word 
 of discourse that they took for a conviction." 
 
 " But it is recorded, woman, it is recorded," 
 said Chester ; and with these words he often 
 attempted to stop her mouth ; as if it must of 
 necessity be true, because it was recorded. 
 
 Mrs. Bunyan then told Judge Hale that she 
 had been to London, to see if she could get her 
 
182 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 husband's liberty ; and that while there she had 
 presented a petition in his behalf to Lord Bark- 
 wood, one of the House of Lords, who, after 
 showing it to other noblemen, had told her they 
 could not release him, but had committed his 
 releasement to the judges at the next assizes. 
 " And now," she said, " I am come to you to see 
 if anything may be done in this business, and 
 you give me neither releasement nor relief." 
 
 " My lord,"said Chester, " he is a pestilent fel- 
 low ; there is not his fellow in the country again." 
 
 " Will your husband leave preaching ?" said 
 Twisdon : "if he will do so, then send for him." 
 
 " My lord," said she, " he dares not leave 
 preaching, as long as he can speak." 
 
 " See there," cried Twisdon, " what should 
 we talk any more about such a fellow ? Must he 
 do what he lists ? He is a breaker of the peace." 
 
 " He desires to live peaceably, my lord," re- 
 joined Mrs. Bunyan, " and to follow his calling, 
 that his family may be maintained. I ha ye four 
 small children that cannot help themselves, one 
 of which is blind ; and we have nothing to live 
 upon but the charity of good people." 
 
 " Hast thou four children?" said Hale; "thou 
 art but a young woman to have four children." 
 
 " My lord," said she, " I am but mother-in- 
 law to them, having not been married to him 
 
LIFE PF JOHN BUNYAN. 183 
 
 yet two full years.." She then proceeded to add, 
 that she was near her confinement when her 
 husband was apprehended ; and that the shock 
 brought on premature labour, and the child died. 
 
 Upon hearing this, Judge Hale, looking very 
 seriously, exclaimed, " Alas ! poor woman." 
 
 Judge Twisdon brutally remarked, that she 
 made poverty her cloak, and that her husband 
 was better maintained by running up and down 
 preaching, than by following his calling. 
 
 u What is his calling ?" asked Judge Hale. 
 
 "A tinker, my lord," said one of the company. 
 
 " Yes," rejoined Mrs. Bunyan, " and because 
 he is a tinker and a poor man, therefore he is 
 despised, and cannot have justice." 
 
 Hale evidently felt the force of her appeals, 
 and was disposed to do what he could in her 
 behalf, notwithstanding the violence of the 
 others. He replied very mildly, " I tell thee, 
 woman, seeing it is so, that they have taken 
 what thy husband said for a conviction, thou 
 must apply thyself to the king, or sue out his 
 pardon, or get a writ of error." 
 
 Chester, who was one of the justices by whom 
 Bunyan was tried, could not conceal his vexation 
 on hearing the judge give this advice ; especially 
 at his mentioning a writ of error. " My lord," he 
 exclaimed, " he will preach and do what he lists." 
 
184 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " He preaches nothing but the word of God," 
 said his wife. " He preach the word of God ! " 
 said Twisdon, in a rage ; " he runneth up and 
 down, and doth harm." 
 
 " No, my lord," said she, " it is not so ; God 
 hath owned him, and done much good by him." 
 
 " God !" said Twisdon, " his doctrine is the 
 doctrine of the devil." 
 
 " My lord," once more replied this meek, yet 
 spirited woman, " when the righteous Judge shall 
 appear, it will be known that his doctrine is not 
 the doctrine of the devil." 
 
 There was no answering this ; and Twis- 
 don, turning to Hale, said, " Do not mind her, 
 my lord, but send her away." 
 
 Hale, evidently moved, said again to her, in 
 a tone of kindness, " I am sorry, woman, that I 
 can do thee no good. Thou must do one of 
 those three things aforesaid, namely, either to ap- 
 ply to the king, or sue out his pardon, or get a writ 
 of error ; but a writ of error will be cheapest.'* 
 
 She several times entreated them to send 
 for her husband, that he might speak for himself, 
 urging that he would be able to give them better 
 satisfaction respecting what they demanded of 
 him : but she could not prevail on them to do so. 
 
 In concluding her account, Mrs. Bunyan says, 
 " Though I was somewhat timorous at my 
 
LIFE 09 JOHN BUNYAN. 185 
 
 first entrance into the chamber, yet before I 
 went out I could not but break forth into tears, 
 not so much because they were so hard-hearted 
 against me and my husband, but to think what 
 a sad account such poor creatures will have to 
 give at the coming of the Lord." Here Mr. 
 Conder remarks, — " How could she suppose 
 that one of those judges was a man of saintly 
 piety and integrity ! And how little did that 
 judge suspect that the prisoner, whose cause 
 was thus pathetically pleaded, was destined, by 
 his writings, to win to himself an everlasting 
 name, as the guide of Christian pilgrims to the 
 heavenly city ! At the coming of the Lord, Hale 
 and Bunyan will not be divided."* 
 
 When or by what means Bunyan lost his first 
 wife, he has not told us ; and of the second we 
 know nothing more than we have just related. 
 Indeed, throughout his entire narrative he never 
 alludes to his domestic affairs, except incidental- 
 
 * Bishop Burnet published a Life of this upright judge, 
 whom he describes as " one of the greatest patterns this 
 age has afforded, whether in his private department as a 
 Christian, or in his public employments either at the bar 
 or on the bench." Baxter, who was intimately acquaint, 
 ed with him, says, " I, who heard and read his serious 
 expressions of the concernments of eternity, and saw his 
 love to all good men, and the blamelessness of his life, 
 thought better of his piety than my own." 
 
186 LIFE OF JOHN »UNYAN. 
 
 ly, when it has a bearing on his religious experi- 
 ence, or his public ministry. Mr. St. John pays 
 no small compliment to both of Bunyan's wives, 
 when he says of the second, that she was wor- 
 thy of the first. Of the latter we would say, 
 that she was worthy of Bunyan himself, who 
 evidently records, with much complacency, her 
 intrepid replies to the judges when pleading for 
 his enlargement. That whole scene showed 
 that she had imbibed much of her husband's 
 spirit : she was willing to attempt anything, or 
 face any company, if she might honourably pro- 
 cure his enlargement; but much as she had suffer- 
 ed, and was likely to suffer, in consequence of his 
 imprisonment, she would not have him purchase 
 his liberty at the expense of a good conscience. 
 It does not appear that Bunyan or his friends 
 made any attempts to effect his release by taking 
 out a writ of error, as recommended by Hale ; 
 being probably deterred therefrom either by fear 
 of the expense, or by despair of success. He 
 therefore still continued in prison ; but for a time 
 his confinement was not very rigid, owing to the 
 indulgence of his jailer, who seems to have al- 
 lowed him to go whither and return when he 
 pleased. He was thus enabled to be frequently 
 with his family; and in June and July, 1661 , he 
 was present at private meetings of the church, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 187 
 
 as appears from the church-book.* As often as 
 he could, he visited the little flocks in the neigh- 
 bouring villages who had attended his ministry; 
 he was often out in the night ; and it is said that 
 several of the Baptist churches in Bedfordshire 
 owe their origin to his midnight preaching. 
 
 Bunyan's frequent absence from tne prison at 
 length came to the ears of some persecuting pre- 
 lates, who, says Ivimey, " sent down an officer 
 to talk with the jailer on the subject ; and, in 
 order to find him out, he was to arrive there in 
 the middle of the night. Bunyan was at home 
 that night with his family, but so restless that 
 he could not sleep : he therefore told his wife 
 that he must return immediately. He did so ; 
 and the jailer blamed him for coming in at so 
 unseasonable an hour. Early in the morning 
 the messenger came, and said, ' Are all the pri- 
 soners safe?' 'Yes.' * Is John Bunyan safe?' 
 ' Yes.' ' Let me see him.' He was called, and 
 appeared, and all was well. After the messenger 
 left, the jailer said to Bunyan, 'Well, you may go 
 
 * This book is still preserved. Dr. Fisk, when at Bed- 
 ford, saw it at the house of Mr. Hillyard. It is entitled, 
 « A Booke containing a Record of the Acts of a Congre- 
 gation of Christ in and about Bedford." Many of the 
 entries, he says, are in Bunyan's own hand ; and some 
 of them during the term of his imprisonment. 
 
188 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 out again when you think proper ; for you know- 
 when to return better than I can tell you.' " 
 
 To such an extent did Bunyan possess the 
 confidence of his jailer, that he was even per- 
 mitted to take a journey to London, to visit some 
 of his Christian brethren there. Unfortunately 
 his enemies heard of this, and " were so angry, 
 that they had almost cast the jailer out of his 
 place, threatening to indict him, and do what 
 they could against him. They also," says Bun- 
 yan, " charged me that I went thither to plot 
 and raise division, and make insurrection, which 
 God knows was a slander ; whereupon my liberty 
 was more straitened than it was before, so that 
 I must not look out of the door." 
 
 At the next assizes, which were held in No- 
 vember, 1661, he expected to be " roundly dealt 
 with," but he was not called up. At the assizes 
 held in the following January, being desirous to 
 come before the judge, he got the jailer (who 
 still befriended him as far as he could) to put 
 his name into the calendar among the felons, 
 and obtained a promise from the judge and the 
 high sheriff that he should be called. He now 
 thought that he had taken effectual measures 
 for obtaining his desire ; but he was disappointed 
 after all ; for when the assizes came, though his 
 name was in the calendar, and the judge and 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 189 
 
 sheriff had both promised that he should be 
 called, yet the justices and the clerk of the peace 
 managed matters so as to prevent his appearing. 
 The clerk of the peace, it will be remembered, 
 was Cobb, who now threw off the mask of friend- 
 ship, and " discovered himself," says Bunyan, 
 "to be one of my greatest opposers ; for first he 
 came to my jailer, and told him that I must not 
 go down before the judge, and therefore must 
 not be put in the calendar ; to whom my jailer 
 said, that my name was in already. He bid him 
 put me out again : my jailer told him that he 
 could not, for he had given the judge a calendar 
 with my name in it, and also the sheriff another. 
 At this he was very much displeased, and de- 
 sired to see the calendar that was yet in the 
 jailer's hand : when he had given it him, he 
 looked on it, and said it was a false calendar, 
 and blotted my accusation as my jailer had 
 ■written it, and put in words to this purpose, — 
 That John Bunyan was committed to prison, 
 being lawfully convicted for upholding of un- 
 lawful meetings and conventicles, &c. But yet 
 for all this, fearing that what he had done, un- 
 less he added thereto, it would not do, he first 
 run to the clerk of the assizes, then to the justices, 
 and afterward, because he would not leave any 
 means unattempted to hinder me, he comes 
 
190 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 again to my jailer, and tells him that if I did go 
 down before the judge, and was released, he 
 would make him pay my fees, which he said 
 were due to him ; and further told him, that he 
 woyld complain of him at the next quarter ses- 
 sions for making of false calendars, though my 
 jailer himself, as I afterward learned, had put 
 in my accusation worse than in itself it was by far. 
 And thus was I prevented at that time also from 
 appearing before the judge, and left in prison." 
 
 It does not appear that he was ever again 
 brought before the court, or that the judges who 
 had, without a regular trial, unjustly sentenced 
 him to banishment, ever attempted to carry that 
 sentence into execution ; for in another part of 
 his narrative, written before his release from 
 prison, he says, " I have lain there now com- 
 plete twelve years, waiting to see what God 
 would suffer these men to do with me." 
 
 " And while he was suffering under this af- 
 fliction, between cold stone walls, in a close 
 confinement, his enemies abroad were labouring 
 to press down and stifle his reputation with 
 calumnies and reproaches. They not only 
 reaped up what was true of his former wicked 
 life, but added many grievous things to hia 
 charge that he was utterly innocent and igno- 
 rant of."— Old Memoir. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 191 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BUNYAN'S EXPERIENCE, TRIALS, AND CONSOLA- 
 TIONS DURING HIS IMPRISONMENT. 
 
 Bunyan was not taken by surprise when he 
 was called to suffer in the cause of Christ and 
 his gospel. For more than a year before his 
 commitment, the impression that "bonds and 
 imprisonment," if nothing worse, awaited him, 
 was so strong, that he could seldom go to prayer 
 without having presented to his mind the apos- 
 tolic petition, " to be strengthened with all might, 
 according to His glorious power, unto all pa- 
 tience and long-suffering with joyfulness." 
 
 He endeavoured so to discipline his heart, as 
 that he might, through grace, be prepared for, 
 and enabled to endure, the worst that could be- 
 fall him. He reasoned thus with himself: — 
 " If I provide only for a prison, then the whip 
 comes at unawares ; and so doth also the pillory. 
 Again, if I only provide for these, then I am 
 not fit for banishment. Further, if I conclude 
 that banishment is the worst, then if death come 
 I am surprised." He sought therefore to fami- 
 liarize his mind to these things ; to become 
 more dead to the world, " and to live upon God 
 
192 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 that is invisible ; as Paul saith the way not to 
 faint is, to ' look not at the things that are seen, 
 but at the things that are not seen.' " 
 
 The following passages, written near the 
 close of his confinement, show that he was so 
 sustained by divine grace as not only to bear up 
 under his afflictions, but also ofttimes so to mount 
 above them, that, with the apostle, he could 
 even " glory in tribulations," Rom. v, 7. 
 
 He says, " In this condition I have continued 
 with much content, through grace ; but have met 
 with many turnings and goings upon my heart, 
 both from the Lord, from Satan, and my own 
 corruptions ; by all which, glory be to Jesus 
 Christ, I have also received, among many things, 
 much conviction, instruction, and understanding; 
 of which at large I shall not here discourse, only 
 give you a hint or two — a word that may stir up 
 the godly to bless God and to pray for me, and also 
 to take encouragement, should the case be their 
 own, not to fear what man can do unto them. 
 
 " I never had, in all my life, so great an inlet 
 into the word of God as now. Scriptures that 
 I saw nothing in before are made, in this place 
 and state, to shine upon me. Jesus Christ also 
 was never more real and apparent than now. 
 Here I have seen and felt him indeed. O that 
 word, 'We have not preached unto you cunning- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAK. 193 
 
 ly-devised fables!' and that, — 'God raised Christ 
 from the dead, and gave him glory, that your faith 
 and hope might be in God,' were blessed words 
 unto me in this my imprisoned condition, 
 
 " These three or four scriptures also have 
 been great refreshments in this condition to me : 
 John xiv, 1-4 ; xvi, 33 ; Col. iii, 3, 4 ; Heb. 
 xii, 22-24 ; so that sometimes, when I have 
 been in the savour of them, I have been able to 
 ' laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the 
 horse nor his rider.' I have sweet sights of the 
 forgiveness of my sins, and of my being with Je- 
 sus in another world. O ! the ' Mount Zion — the 
 heavenly Jerusalem — the innumerable company 
 of angels — and God, the Judge of all — and the 
 spirits of^ just men made perfect — and Jesus,' 
 have been made sweet unto me in this place. I 
 have seen that here, that I am persuaded I shall 
 never, while in this world, be able to express. 
 
 " I never knew what it was for God to stand 
 by me at all turns, and at every offer of Satan 
 to afflict me, &c., as I have found since I came 
 in hither : for look, how fears have presented 
 themselves, so have supports and encourage- 
 ments ; yea, when I have started, even as it 
 were at nothing else but my shadow, yet God, 
 as being very tender of me, hath not suffered me 
 to be molested, but would, with one scripture or. 
 
194 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 another, strengthen me against all ; insomuch, 
 that I have often said, Were it lawful, I could 
 pray for greater trouble, for the greater comfort's 
 sake. . 'For as the sufferings of Christ abound in 
 us, so our consolation also aboundeth in Christ.' " 
 
 But the condition of his family at this time 
 awakened his tenderest sympathies ; and the 
 thought of their destitution, and particularly of 
 the hardships to which he feared his blind 
 daughter might be exposed, caused him many 
 a bitter pang ; for he was, as one who knew 
 him testifies, " both a loving and tender hus- 
 band, and an indulgent parent, perhaps some- 
 what to a fault." Few passages, even in Bun- 
 yan, are more touchingly eloquent than that in 
 ■which he gives utterance to the feelings of his 
 heart on this subject. He has just been speak- 
 ing of his spiritual consolation and supports 
 during his imprisonment, and then adds, — 
 
 " But notwithstanding these helps, I found 
 myself a man encompassed with infirmities. 
 The parting with my wife and poor children 
 hath often been to me, in this place, as the 
 pulling the flesh from the bones ; and that not 
 only because I am somewhat too fond of these 
 great mercies, but also because I should have 
 often brought to my mind the many hardships, 
 miseries, and wants that my poor family was 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 195 
 
 like to meet with, should I be taken from them, 
 especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer 
 my heart than all beside. O ! the thoughts of 
 the hardship I thought my poor blind one might 
 go under, would break my heart to pieces. Poor 
 child ! thought I, what sorrow art thou like to 
 have for thy portion in this world ! Thou must 
 be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, naked- 
 ness, and a thousand calamities, though I can- 
 not now endure the wind should blow upon thee. 
 But yet recalling myself, thought I, I must ven- 
 ture you all with God, though it goeth to the 
 quick to leave you. O ! I saw in this condition 
 I was as a man who was pulling down his house 
 upon the head of his wife and children ; yet, 
 thought I, I must do it, I must do it : and now 
 I thought on those two milch kine that were to 
 carry the ark of God into another country, and 
 to leave their calves behind them." 1 Sam. iv, 10. 
 His knowledge of Scripture furnished him 
 not only with an apt comparison of his affliction, 
 but also with two precious promises, which 
 he says were a great help to him in this trial : 
 the first was Jer. xlix, 11, " Leave thy father- 
 less children, I will preserve them alive ; and 
 let thy widows trust in me." The other was 
 Jer. xv, 11, " The Lord said, Verily it shall go 
 well with thy remnant, verily I will cause the 
 
196 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 enemy to entreat thee well in the time of evil, 
 and in time of affliction." He also derived much 
 support from the consideration, that by ventur- 
 ing all for God, he engaged God to " take care 
 of his concernments ;" and he counted that they 
 were quite as safe in his keeping as if he had 
 them in his own hands. 
 
 The following passage doubtless relates to 
 one of the " turnings and goings upon his heart," 
 to which allusion has been made in a former 
 paragraph : — " I will tell you a pretty business. 
 I was once, above all the rest, in a very sad and 
 low condition for many weeks ; at which time 
 also I, being a young prisoner, and not acquaint- 
 ed with the laws, had this lain much upon my 
 spirits, — that my imprisonment might end at the 
 gallows, for all that I could tell. Now there- 
 fore Satan laid hard at me, to beat me oiit of 
 heart, by suggesting thus unto me : ' But how 
 if, when you come indeed to die, you should be 
 in this condition ; that is, as not to savour the 
 things of God, nor to have any evidence upon 
 your soul for a better state hereafter V (for at that 
 time all the things of God were hid from my soul.) 
 
 " Wherefore, when I at first began to think 
 of this, it was a great trouble to me ; for I thought 
 with myself, that in the condition I now was, I 
 was not fit to die ; neither indeed did I think I 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 197 
 
 could, if I should be called to it. Besides, I 
 thought with myself, if I should make a scramb- 
 ling shift to clamber up the ladder, yet I should, 
 either with quaking or other symptoms of faint- 
 ing, give occasion to the enemy to reproach the 
 way of God, and his people for their timorous- 
 ness. This therefore lay with great trouble 
 upon me ; for methought I was ashamed to die 
 with a pale face and tottering knees, in such a 
 cause as this. Wherefore I prayed to God, that 
 he would comfort me, and give me strength to 
 do and suffer what he should call me to. Yet 
 no comfort appeared, but all continued hid. 
 
 " I was also at this time so really possessed 
 with the thought of death, that oft I was as if 
 on the ladder, with a rope about my neck : only 
 this was some encouragement to me, — I thought 
 I might now have an opportunity to speak my 
 last words to a multitude which I thought would 
 come to see me die ; and, thought I , if it must be so, 
 if God will but convert one soul by my last words, 
 I shall not count my life thrown away nor lost. 
 
 " But yet all the things of God were kept out 
 of my sight, and still the tempter followed me 
 with, ' But whither must you go when you die ? 
 What will become of you ? Where will you be 
 found in another world ? What evidence have 
 you for heaven and glory, and an inheritance 
 
198 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 among them that are sanctified 1 ' Thus was I 
 tossed for many weeks, and knew not what to do. 
 At last this consideration fell with weight upon 
 me, ' That it was for the word and way of God 
 that I was in this condition ; wherefore I was 
 engaged not to flinch an hair's breadth from it.' 
 
 " I thought also, that God might choose whe- 
 ther he would give me comfort noiv, or at the 
 hour of death ; but I might not therefore choose 
 whether I would hold my profession or no. I 
 was bound, but he was free : yea, it was my 
 duty to stand to his word, whether he would 
 ever look upon me, or save me at the last: 
 wherefore, thought I, the point being thus, I am 
 for going on, and venturing my eternal state 
 with Christ, whether I have comfort here or no. 
 If God doth not come in, thought I, I will leap 
 off the ladder, even blindfold, into eternity, — 
 sink or swim, — come heaven, come hell : Lord 
 Jesus, if thou wilt catch me, do ; if not, I will 
 venture for thy name. 
 
 " I was no sooner fixed upon this resolution, 
 but the word dropped upon me, ' Doth Job serve 
 God for naught?' as if the accuser had said, 
 1 Lord, Job is no upright man ; he serves thee 
 for by-respects : hast thou not made an hedge 
 about him ? But put forth now thine hand, and 
 touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 199 
 
 thy face.' Job i, 9-11. How now, thought I ; 
 is this the sign of a renewed soul, to desire to 
 serve God when all is taken from him ? Is he 
 a godly man that will serve God for nothing, 
 rather than give out ? Blessed be God, then, I 
 hope I have an upright heart ; for I am resolved, 
 God giving me strength, never to deny my pro- 
 fession, though I have nothing for my pains. . . . 
 Now was my heart full of comfort, for I hoped 
 it was sincere. I would not have been without 
 this trial for much : I am comforted every time 
 I think of it ; and I hope I shall bless God for 
 ever for the teaching I have had by it." 
 
 Under the title of " Prison Meditations, dedi- 
 cated to the heart of suffering saints and reign- 
 ing sinners," Bunyan set forth in rhyme the joys 
 of those who suffer for righteousness' sake. 
 The poem contains seventy stanzas in all ; but 
 the following will suffice for a specimen : — 
 
 " I am indeed in prison now 
 In body, but my mind 
 Is free to follow Christ, and here 
 Unto me he is kind. 
 
 For though men keep my outward man 
 
 Within their locks and bars, 
 Yet by the faith of Christ I can 
 
 Mount higher than the stars. 
 
 Their fetters cannot spirits tame, 
 Nor tie up God from me ; 
 
200 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN", 
 
 My faith and hope they cannot lame, 
 Above them I shall be. 
 
 I here am very much refresh'd, 
 
 To think, when I was out, 
 I preached life, and peace, and rest, 
 
 To sinners round about. 
 
 The prison very sweet to me 
 
 Hath been since I came here ; 
 And so would also hanging be, 
 
 If God would there appear. 
 
 This jail to us is as a hill, 
 
 From whence we plainly see 
 Beyond this world, and take our fill 
 
 Of things that lasting be. 
 
 Consider, man, what I have said, 
 
 And judge of things aright ; 
 When all men's cards are fully play'd, 
 
 Whose will abide the light ? 
 
 Will those who have us hither cast ? 
 
 Or those who do us scorn 1 
 Or those who do our houses waste 1 
 
 Or us who have this borne ? 
 
 And let us count those things the best, 
 
 That best will prove at last ; 
 And count such men the only blest, 
 
 That do such things hold fast." 
 
 It is readily granted that there is much moro 
 truth than poetry in these lines. Indeed Bun- 
 yan, though he loved to rhyme, is never less 
 poetical than when he attempts to give his 
 thoughts the form of poetry. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN, 201 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BUNYAN'S EMPLOYMENTS AND STUDIES DURING 
 HIS IMPRISONMENT. 
 
 The rigour of Bunyan's confinement appears to 
 have continued about seven years. In the early 
 part of his imprisonment, as the reader will re- 
 member, he was, through the kindness of his 
 jailer, permitted to be often at large, so that he 
 frequently attended the private meetings of the 
 society at Bedford. He was there in July, 1661, 
 but from that time to August, 1668, his name is 
 not found on their minutes, nor is it known that 
 during that whole period he was ever allowed 
 to pass the threshold of the prison. 
 
 But though closely confined, it does not ap- 
 pear that he was denied the visits of his family 
 and friends. One of his early biographers says, 
 " It was by making him a visit in prison that I 
 first saw him, and became acquainted with him; 
 and "I must confess, I could not but look upon 
 him to be a man of an excellent spirit, zealous 
 for his Master's honour, and cheerfully commit- 
 ting all his own concernments unto God's dis- 
 posal. . . . Nor did he, while he was in prison, 
 spend his time in a supine or careless manner, 
 
202 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 or eat the bread of idleness ; for there I have 
 been witness, that his own hands have minis- 
 tered to his and to his family's necessities, by 
 making many hundred gross of long tagged 
 thread laces, to fill up the vacancies of his time, 
 which he had learned for that purpose, since he 
 had been in prison." He was thus, notwith- 
 standing the severities he endured, enabled to 
 contribute something to the support of those 
 whom he loved. What was lacking was doubt- 
 less supplied by the charity of Christian friends. 
 He was not even now without opportunities 
 for exercising his ministerial gifts. If he was 
 in confinement, " the word of God was not 
 bound." Although he was the first in that part 
 of the country to be shut up for nonconformity, 
 yet it was not long before he was favoured with 
 the society of some who were suffering in the 
 same cause. Among these were two Baptist 
 preachers, Messrs. Wheeler and Dunn, with 
 whom Bunyan took his turn in expounding the 
 Scriptures to his fellow-prisoners. " What an 
 alleviation to the sorrows of the people,"" ob- 
 serves Mr. Ivimey, " that they had such minis- 
 ters to preach to them ! and what pleasure must 
 it have been to these, that they had such godly 
 people to preach to, who would rather suffer 
 than sin !" The writer mentioned in the pre- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 203 
 
 ceding page as visiting Bunyan in his confine- 
 ment says, " When I was there, above three- 
 score dissenters were in the prison besides him- 
 self, taken but a little before at a religious meet- 
 ing at Kaistow, in the county of Bedford ; be- 
 sides two eminent dissenting ministers ; by 
 which means the prison was much crowded- 
 Yet in the midst of all that hurry which so many 
 new comers occasioned, I have heard Mr. Bun- 
 yan both preach and pray with that mighty spi- 
 rit of faith, and plethora of divine assistance, 
 that has made me stand and wonder." 
 
 He would sometimes be visited in prison by 
 those who sought to him for counsel. He gives 
 an instance of this in his Life and Death of Mr. 
 Badman : — " When I was in prison there came 
 a woman to me that was under a great deal of 
 trouble ; so I asked her, she being a stranger to 
 me, what she had to say to me. She said she 
 was afraid she should be damned. I asked her 
 the cause of those fears. She told me that she 
 had some time since lived with a shopkeeper at 
 Wellingborough, and had robbed his box in the 
 shop, several times, of money, to the value of 
 more than now I will say : ' and pray,' says she, 
 1 tell we what I shall do ? ' I told her I would 
 have her go to her master, and make him satis- 
 faction. She said she was afraid. I asked her 
 
204 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 why? She said she doubted he would hang 
 her. I told her that I would intercede for her 
 life, and would make use of other friends too, 
 and do the like ; but she told me she durst not 
 venture that. ' Well,' said I, i shall I send to 
 your master, while you abide out of sight, and 
 make your peace with him before he sees you?' 
 and with that I asked her master's name. But 
 all that she said in answer to this was, ' Pray 
 let it alone till I come to you again.' So away 
 she went, and neither told me her master's name, 
 nor her own. This is about ten or twelve years 
 since, and I never saw her again." 
 
 An anecdote is also related of a Quaker who 
 called to see him, not long before his release, 
 hoping perhaps to make a convert of the pilgrim. 
 He thus addressed him : " Friend John, I am 
 come to thee with a message from the Lord, 
 and after searching in all the prisons in Eng- 
 land, I am glad I have found thee at last." 
 " Friend," replied Bunyan, " thou dost not speak 
 truth in saying the Lord sent thee to seek me ; 
 for the Lord knows I have been in Bedford jail 
 these twelve years, and if he had sent thee, he 
 would have sent thee here directly." 
 
 Bunyan's books and his pen doubtless occu- 
 pied most of his leisure hours, and served to 
 relieve the tedium of his confinement. Of the 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 205 
 
 former his collection was remarkably select, 
 consisting most of the time of two books only, 
 — the Bible, and the Book of Martyrs. This, 
 however, was doubtless the result of choice ra- 
 ther than of necessity. His copy of the Book 
 of Martyrs is still in existence : it is of the edi- 
 tion of 1641, and is printed in black letter, in 
 three folio volumes. He has written his name 
 in a stout print-hand on the title-page of each 
 volume. One of these autographs (a fac-simile 
 of which is given on the next page) is dated 
 1662, and must therefore have been written 
 during his imprisonment. Under several of the 
 prints he has inserted some doggerel rhymes, 
 which must have been among his first attempts 
 in that way. Miserable as they are, " he no 
 doubt," says Dr. Southey, "found difficulty 
 enough in tinkering them to make him proud 
 of his work when it was done ; for otherwise 
 he would not have written them in a book 
 which was the most valuable of all his goods 
 and chattels." We give two of the verses, with 
 a fac-simile of one, which will serve as speci- 
 mens of Bunyan's orthography and penmanship 
 in early life, for they must undoubtedly, as Dr. 
 Southey remarks, have been written some years 
 before the autograph of 1662, if not before 
 the publication of his first tract. 
 
206 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 11 
 
 
 
LIFE Of JOHN BUNYAN. 207 
 
 The first was inserted under a print entitled, 
 " The Description of the Popes Councell holden 
 at Rome, in which appeared a monstrous Owle, 
 to the utter defacing of the Pope and all his 
 Clergie." See the note on page 331. 
 " E>oth the owle to them apper 
 Which put them all into a fear 
 Will not the man and trubel crown 
 Cast the owlt into the ground." 
 The following was written under a print re- 
 presenting the martyrdom of Thomas Hawkes, 
 who, having promised his friends to lift up his 
 hands before he died, in token that his mind 
 was l>ept in peace, after his speech was gone, 
 raised his scorched arms in triumph toward 
 heaven. 
 
 " hear is one stout and strong in deed 
 he doth not waver like as doth a reed, 
 a Sighn he give them yea last of all 
 that are obedant to the hevenly call." 
 
 Justice to Bunyan, however, requires us to 
 remark here, that he lived " before the age of 
 spelling-books," and that in his day persons of 
 the highest distinction might be found whose 
 orthography was quite as loose as his.* 
 
 * The following literal extract from a letter, written in 
 1700, by the celebrated Lady Rachel Russell, will sub. 
 stantiate this remark. She is giving an account of the 
 damages occasioned by a storm. " hampshire is al deso- 
 
208 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Some of Bunyan's best works, including the 
 first part of the Pilgrim's Progress, were among 
 the fruits of his imprisonment; so that that 
 event, in the providence of God, " fell out rather 
 to the furtherance of the gospel ;" for though by- 
 it he was for a few years debarred the public 
 exercise of his ministry, yet by means of these 
 books he has continued to preach, and preach 
 effectively too, to countless thousands, for now 
 more than one hundred and fifty years, and will 
 doubtless continue to do so to the end of time. 
 No thanks, however, are due to his persecutors 
 for this result. They " meant not so, neither 
 did their heart think so." 
 
 It was doubtless to this legacy to the church 
 that Bunyan refers in the following passage, 
 where, in one of his happiest appropriations of 
 Scripture language, he applies to his own case 
 the words of the sacred writer in recording 
 David's contributions toward the building of the 
 temple. 1 Chron. xxvi, 27. It occurs at the 
 close of his Brief Account of his Imprisonment. 
 " Many more of the dealings of God toward me 
 
 lation. devon-house scapet better than any house I 
 heare of. Many kiled in country as wel as in towne. 
 Lady penelope wickless kiled in her bed at ther country 
 house, and he in y e sam bed saved, a piece of timber 
 faling betvveene his legs, and keept of ye bricks." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 209 
 
 I might relate, but these out of the spoils won in 
 battle have I dedicated to maintain the house of 
 God." These "spoils," remarks Mr. Philip, 
 happily remain for the use of the church. 
 
 For how many of Bunyan's works we are 
 indebted to his imprisonment, it is difficult to 
 determine, as some which he wrote during that 
 period were not published till some years after 
 his release. Concerning the following, how- 
 ever, there is no doubt : — Sighs from Hell ; or 
 the Groans of a damned Soul — The Two Cove- 
 nants : Law and Grace — Discourse on Prayer 
 — A Map of Salvation, &c. — One Thing is Need- 
 ful ; or Serious Meditations upon the Four Last 
 Things — Ebal and Gerizim; or the Blessing and 
 the Curse — Prison Meditations — The Holy City; 
 or the New Jerusalem — The Resurrection of 
 the Dead, and eternal Judgment — Grace abound- 
 ing to the Chief of Sinners — Defence of the 
 Doctrine of Justification, against Bp. Fowler — 
 A Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my 
 Practice — The Pilgrim's Progress : Part I. 
 
 In the Address to the Reader, prefixed to 
 the first-mentioned of the above works, the au- 
 thor thus alludes to his persecutions : — " Friend, 
 if thou dost love me, pray for me, that my God 
 would not forsake me, nor take his Holy Spirit 
 from me ; and that God would fit me to do and - 
 14 
 
210 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 suffer what shall be from the world or devil in- 
 flicted upon me. I must tell thee, the world 
 rages ; they stamp, and shake their heads ; and 
 fain they would be doing. The Lord help me 
 to take all they shall do with patience ; and 
 when they smite the one cheek, to turn the 
 other to them, that I may do as Christ hath 
 bidden me ; for then the Spirit of God and of 
 glory shall rest upon me." 
 
 One of the old lives of Bunyan states that 
 another work, entitled, " Christian Behaviour, 
 being the Fruits of true Christianity," was writ- 
 ten during his confinement : and to the same 
 period (though it was not published till 1675) 
 we think must be referred the authorship of his 
 " Instructions for the Ignorant;" for in dedicat- 
 ing it " To the Church of Christ in and about 
 Bedford," he speaks of his being " driven from 
 them in presence, not in affection ;" and sub- 
 scribes himself, "Yours, to serve you by my 
 ministry {when I can) to your edification," &c. 
 Mr. Philip also gives some plausible reasons 
 for supposing the "Divine Emblems" to have 
 been one of his prison labours. 
 
 His " Grace abounding to the Chief of Sin- 
 ners," was written and published for the edifi- 
 cation and encouragement of his spiritual chil- 
 dren, Having already given our readers the 
 
 
V 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 211 
 
 substance of this narrative, we here append the 
 dedicatory preface, which may be regarded as 
 a kind of pastoral letter. It is addressed 
 
 "To those whom God hath counted me worthy 
 to beget to Faith by my Ministry in the Word. 
 
 " Children, — Grace be with you. Amen. 
 I being taken from you in presence, and so tied 
 up that I cannot perform that duty that from God 
 doth lie upon me to you-ward, for your further 
 edifying and building up in faith and holiness, 
 &c. ; yet that you may see my soul hath fatherly 
 care and desire after your spiritual and everlast- 
 ing welfare, I now once again, as before from 
 the top of Shenir and Hermon, so now from the 
 lion's den, and from the mountain of the leo- 
 pards, (Solomon's Song iv, 8,) do look yet after 
 you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival 
 in the desired haven. 
 
 V I thank God upon every remembrance of 
 you ; and rejoice, even while I stick between 
 the teeth of the lions in the wilderness, that the 
 grace, and mercy, and knowledge of Christ our 
 Saviour, which God hath bestowed upon you, 
 with abundance of faith and love ; your hunger- 
 ings and thirstings after further acquaintance 
 with the Father, in the Son ; your tenderness 
 of heart, your trembling at sin, your sober and 
 
212 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 holy deportment also, before both God and men, 
 is a great refreshment to me ; for ' you are my 
 glory and joy.' 1 Thess. ii, 20. 
 
 " I have sent you here enclosed a drop of that 
 honey that I have taken out of the carcass of 
 a lion : (Judg. xiv, 5-8 :) I have eaten there- 
 of myself, and am much refreshed thereby. 
 (Temptations, when we meet them at first, are 
 as the lion that roared upon Samson ; but if we 
 overcome them, the next time we see them, we 
 shall find a nest of honey within them.) The 
 Philistines understand me not. It is something 
 of a relation of the work of God upon my soul, 
 even from the very first till now, wherein you 
 may perceive my castings down and risings up : 
 for he woimdeth, and his hands make whole. 
 It is written in the Scripture, ' The father to the 
 children shall make known the truth of God,' 
 Isa. xxxviii, 19. Yea, it was for this reason I 
 lay so long at Sinai, ' to see the fire, and the 
 cloud, and the darkness, that I might fear the 
 Lord all the days of my life upon earth, and tell 
 of his wondrous works to my children, which 
 we have heard and known, and our fathers have 
 told us. We will not hide them from our chil- 
 dren, shewing to the generation to come the 
 praises of the Lord, and his strength, and his 
 wonderful works that he hath done. For he 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 213 
 
 established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a 
 law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers 
 that they should make them known unto their 
 children.' Deut. iv, 10, 11; Psa. lxxviii, 3-5. 
 
 " Moses wrote of the joumeyings of the chil- 
 dren of Israel from Egypt to the land of Ca- 
 naan ; (Num. xxxiii, 1,2;) and commanded also 
 that they did remember their forty years' travel 
 in the wilderness. Deut. viii, 1, 2. Wherefore 
 this I have endeavoured to do ;* and not only 
 so, but to publish it also ; that, if God will, 
 others may be put in remembrance of what he 
 hath done for their souls, by reading of his work 
 upon me. 
 
 "It is profitable for Christians to be often 
 calling to mind the very beginnings of grace 
 with their souls. 'It is a night much to be 
 observed unto the Lord, for bringing them out 
 of the land of Egypt : this is that night of the 
 Lord, to be observed of all the children of Is- 
 rael in their generations.' Exod. xii, 42. ' O, my 
 God,' saith David, ' my soul is cast down within 
 me ; but I will remember thee from the land of 
 Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill 
 
 * Does not Bunyan here allude to his own age ? He 
 was but thirty-two years old at the beginning of his 
 imprisonment, and therefore it is not improbable that 
 he was about forty when he wrote his narrative. 
 
214 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Mizar.' Psa. xlii, 6. He remembered also the 
 lion and the bear, when he went to fight with 
 the giant of Gath. 1 Sam. xvii, 36, 37. 
 
 " It was Paul's accustomed manner, and that 
 when tried for his life, even to open before his 
 judges the manner of his conversion . He would 
 think of that day, and that hour, in which he 
 first did meet with grace ; for he found it sup- 
 ported him. When God had brought the chil- 
 dren of Israel out of the Red Sea, far into the 
 wilderness, yet they must turn quite about 
 thither again, to remember the drowning of 
 their enemies there; (Num. xiv, 25 ;) for though 
 they sang His praise before, they soon forgot 
 his works. Psa. cvi, 12, 13. 
 
 " In this discourse of mine you may see much ; 
 much, I say, of the grace of God toward me. I 
 thank God, I can count it much, for it was above 
 my sins, and Satan's temptations too. I can 
 remember my fears, and doubts, and sad months, 
 with comfort ; they are as the head of Goliah 
 in my hand. There was nothing to David like 
 Goliah's sword, even that sword that should have 
 been sheathed in his bowels ; for the very sight 
 and remembrance of that did preach forth God's 
 deliverance to him. O ! the remembrance of 
 my great sins, of my great temptations, and of 
 my great fear of perishing for ever ! they bring 
 
T.1FE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 215 
 
 afresh into my mind the remembrance of my 
 great help, my great supports from heaven, and 
 the great grace that God extended to such a 
 wretch as I. 
 
 " My dear children, call to mind the former 
 days and years of ancient times : remember also 
 your songs in the night, and commune with your 
 own heart ; say, in times of distress, ' Will the 
 Lord cast off for ever ? and will he be favoura- 
 ble no more ? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? 
 Doth his promise fail for evermore ? Hath God 
 forgotten to be gracious ? Hath he in anger shut 
 up his tender mercies ? And I said, This is my 
 infirmity ; but I will remember the years of the 
 right hand of the Most High. I will remember 
 the works of the Lord ; surely I will remember 
 thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all 
 thy work, and talk of thy doings.' Psa. lxxvii, 
 5-12. Yea, look diligently, and leave no cor- 
 ner therein unsearched, for that treasure hid, 
 even the treasure of your first and second expe- 
 rience of the grace of God toward you. Re- 
 member your terrors of conscience, and fears 
 of death and hell: remember also your tears 
 and prayers to God ; yea, how you sighed under 
 every hedge for mercy. Have you never a hill 
 Mizar to remember ? Have you forgot the close, 
 the milk house, the stable, the barn, and the 
 
216 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 like, where God did visit your souls ? * Remem- 
 ber also the word — the word, I say, upon which 
 the Lord hath caused you to hope. If you have 
 sinned against light ; if you are tempted to blas- 
 pheme ; if you are drowned in despair ; if you 
 think God fights against you ; or if heaven is 
 hid from your eyes ; remember it was thus with 
 your father ; ' but out of them all the Lord deli- 
 vered me.' 
 
 " I could have enlarged much, in this my dis- 
 course, of my temptations and troubles for sin ; 
 as also of the merciful kindness and working of 
 God with my soul. I could also have stepped 
 into a style much higher than this in which I 
 have here discoursed, and could have adorned 
 all things more than here I have seemed to do, 
 but I dare not : God did not play in tempting 
 of me ; neither did I play when I sunk as into 
 the bottomless pit, when the angels of hell caught 
 hold upon me ; wherefore I may not play in re- 
 lating of them, but be plain and simple, and lay 
 down the thing as it was : he that liketh it, let 
 him receive it ; and he that doth not, let him 
 produce a better. Farewell. 
 
 " My dear children, the milk and honey are 
 beyond this wilderness. God be merciful to 
 
 * He is here probably alluding to various places in 
 which he had met with them for worship. See p. 150. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 217 
 
 you, and grant that you be not slothful to go in 
 to possess the land. JoHN BuNyAN> » 
 
 Such has been the popularity of " Grace 
 Abounding," that when Mr. Ivimey wrote, (in 
 1809,) fifty editions of it had been published, 
 and perhaps nearly as many more have been 
 issued since that time. " The very extreme 
 plainness of the work adds to its power. Ne- 
 ver was the inward life of any being depicted 
 with more vehement and burning language : it 
 is an intensely vivid description of the workings 
 of a mind of the keenest sensibility and most 
 fervid imagination, convinced of its guilt, and 
 fully awake to all the dread realities of eternity. 
 In this work we behold not only the general 
 discipline by which Bunyan attained that spi- 
 ritual wisdom and experience exhibited in the 
 Pilgrim's Progress, but there are particular pas- 
 sages of it in which we see the evident germs 
 of that work of genius." — N. A. Review. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress was the crowning 
 piece of Bunyan's prison labours. In the open- 
 ing sentence he at once informs the reader 
 where it was conceived and executed : — " As I 
 walked through the wilderness of this world, I 
 lighted on a certain place where was a den, and 
 laid me down in that place to sleep ; and, as I 
 
218 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 slept, I dreamed a dream." This " den," as 
 he tells us in the margin, was " the jail." 
 
 The composition of this work was probably 
 one of his greatest enjoyments during his im- 
 prisonment. " It was the only one of his joys 
 which he allowed neither stranger nor friend to 
 intermeddle with. He kept it ' a fountain seal- 
 ed,' from all his family and fellow-prisoners, 
 until it was completed. Dunn, or Wheeler, or 
 any other companion, might hear a page, or ob- 
 tain a peep, of any of his other works, while 
 they were planning or in progress ; but the Pil- 
 grim was for no eye nor ear but his own, until 
 he ' awoke out of his dream.' He never once, 
 during all that dream, ' talked in his sleep.' " 
 This fact we have never seen noticed by any 
 writer but Mr. Philip, (from whom we have 
 taken the preceding quotation,) although Bun- 
 yan himself has strongly stated it in his preface, 
 where he says, — 
 
 " Matter and manner too were all my own, 
 
 Nor was it unto any mortal known, 
 
 Till I had done it." 
 
 To the world he did not tell his dream till some 
 years after his release ; we will therefore post- 
 pone any further remarks upon it until we arrive 
 at the period of its publication. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LAST YEARS OF HIS IMPRISONMENT I ELECTION 
 TO THE pastorship: HIS RELEASE. 
 
 The strictness of Bimyan's confinement appears 
 to have been considerably abated during the last 
 four years of its continuance ; for in 1669, 1670, 
 and 1671, he was regularly present at the church 
 meetings, as appears from the records, which 
 also contain three appointments for him to visit 
 disorderly members, in 1668. This liberty must 
 doubtless, as in the former instance, be ascribed 
 to the friendship of the jailer ; for the spirit of 
 persecution was then raging more strongly than 
 ever. The " Conventicle Act," which had ex- 
 pired some time before, was, in October, 1669, 
 re-enacted, with additional clauses, rendering it 
 much more severe ; and in 1670 it received the 
 royal assent. This abominable Act, which was 
 first passed in 1663, provided, " That every per- 
 son above sixteen years of age, present at any 
 meeting, under pretence of any exercise of reli- 
 gion, in other manner than is the practice of the 
 Church of England, where there are five per- 
 sons more than the household, shall, for the first 
 offence, by a justice of peace be recorded, and 
 
220 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 sent to jail three months, or pay £5 ; and for 
 the second offence, six months, or pay £10 ; 
 and for the third time, being convicted by a jury, 
 shall be banished to some of the American plan- 
 tations, except New-England or Virginia, for 
 seven years, or pay £100 ; and in case such a 
 person return, or make his escape, he is to be 
 adjudged a felon, and suffer death without benefit 
 of clergy." It was a great hardship attending 
 this Act, that it gave a justice the power to con- 
 vict a person without jury ; for if the convicted 
 person was innocent, there was no relief to be 
 obtained, the justice being both judge and jury.* 
 It was also rendered more grievous from its 
 ambiguity. " No man that ever I met with," 
 says Baxter, " could tell what was a violation 
 of it, and what not, not knowing what was al- 
 lowed by the Liturgy and practice of the Church 
 of England in families, because the Liturgy 
 meddleth not with families ; and among the di- 
 versity of family practice, no man knoweth what 
 to call the practice of the Church. According 
 to the plain words of the Act, if a man did but 
 preach and pray, or read some licensed book, 
 and sing psalms, he might have more than four 
 present, because these are allowed by the prac- 
 tice of the Church in the church ; and the Act 
 * Slate's Memoirs of Oliver Heywood, 8vo., p. 107. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. '221 
 
 seemeth to grant an indulgence for place and 
 number, so be it the quality of the exercise be 
 allowed by the Church. But when it came to 
 the trial, these pleas with the justices were in 
 vain ; (for if men did but pray, it was taken for 
 granted that it was an exercise not allowed by 
 the Church of England, and to jail they went.) . . 
 The people were in a great strait, those espe- 
 cially who dwelt near any busy officer, or mali- 
 cious enemy. Many durst not pray in their 
 families, if above four persons came in to dine 
 with them, . . . and some scarce durst crave a 
 blessing on their meat, or give God thanks for 
 it. Some thought they might venture, if they 
 withdrew into another room, and left the strangers 
 by themselves ; but others said, it is all one if 
 it be in the same house, though out of hearing, 
 when it cometh to the judgment of the justices. 
 . . . Great lawyers said, if you come on a visit 
 of business, though you be present at prayer or 
 sermon, it is no breach of the law, because you 
 met not on pretence of a religious exercise: but 
 those that tried them said, such words are but 
 wind, when the justices come to judge you."* In 
 the new Act it was provided that all doubtful 
 clauses should be interpreted in the sense most 
 unfavourable to conventicles, (as all places of 
 * Orme's Life of Baxter, vol. i, pp. 221, 222. 
 
222 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 worship not belonging to the established Church 
 were then called,) it being the intention of par- 
 liament " entirely to suppress them." 
 
 The enforcement of this Act was, in many 
 places, the cause of much suffering to the pious 
 nonconformists. Among others, Bunyan's reli- 
 gious friends at Bedford came in for their share ; 
 and several of them had their goods distrained 
 to pay the fines imposed upon them for worship- 
 ping God according to the dictates of their own 
 conscience. To the honour of the people of 
 Bedford it should be mentioned, that they gave 
 no countenance to this legalized plunder of their 
 unoffending fellow-townsmen ; a church war- 
 den and a constable were fined £5 each for 
 refusing to aid in seizing goods ; and after the 
 goods were taken, the regular porters could not 
 be induced to carry them away, some of them 
 saying, they " would be hung, drawn, and quar- 
 tered, before they would assist in that work."* 
 
 Forster, one of the justices by whom Bunyan 
 was tried, appears to have been the prime agent, 
 or ringleader, in this persecution of the Bedford 
 congregation ; a circumstance which of itself 
 renders it pretty certain that the measure of li- 
 berty which Bunyan now enjoyed was owing 
 entirely to the "favour" which God "gave him 
 
 * A fuller account is given in Philip's Life of Bunyan. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUN TAN. 223 
 
 in the sight of the keeper of the prison." Of 
 this liberty he availed himself to visit his Chris- 
 tian friends, and no doubt encouraged them to 
 " take joyfully the spoiling of their goods," ra- 
 ther than " forsake the assembling of themselves 
 together." Indeed, had all the nonconformists 
 of that age, both preachers and people, mani- 
 fested the same determined spirit that was shown 
 by Bunyan and his friends, and by the Quakers, 
 the unrighteous enactments of a persecuting 
 prelacy would have become a dead letter from 
 sheer inability to enforce them.* 
 
 In the eleventh year of his imprisonment he 
 was elected one of the pastors of the congrega- 
 tion at Bedford, as appears from the following 
 extract from the "Booke" of records already 
 referred to, which is dated October 21, 1671: — 
 " The meeting with joynt consent (signifyed by 
 
 * In London " the Quakers were so resolute, and so 
 gloried in their constancy and sufferings, that they as- 
 sembled openly, near Aldersgate, and were dragged 
 away daily to the common jail ; and yet desisted not, 
 but the rest came the next day, nevertheless ; so that the 
 jail at Newgate was filled with them. Abundance of 
 them died in prison, and yet they continued their assem- 
 blies still. They would sometimes meet only to sit in 
 silence, when, as they said, the Spirit did not move them ; 
 and it was a great question, whether this silence was a 
 religious exercise not allowed by the Liturgy." — Baxter. 
 
224 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 solemne lifting up of their hands) call forth and 
 appoint our bro: John Bunyan to the pastorall 
 office or eldership : And he accepting thereof, 
 gave up himself to serve Christ." It appears 
 that one of the pastors, Mr. Whiteman,* died in 
 1671, and Bunyan was probably appointed in his 
 place. Samuel Fenn, who was at first co-pastor 
 with Whiteman, served afterward with Bunyan 
 in the same capacity for ten years. 
 
 It may appear strange to some, that Bunyan 
 should have been elected to this office while still 
 in confinement ; but it should be remembered that 
 he now enjoyed considerable liberty, regularly 
 attending all the private meetings of the church. 
 
 Shortly after his ordination Bunyan publish- 
 ed "A Defence of the Doctrine of Justification 
 by Jesus Christ," in reply to a treatise on "The 
 Design of Christianity," by Dr. Fowler, who 
 attributes justification to human merit. He did 
 not get the doctor's book till the 13th of Novem- 
 ber, 1671, yet he finished his refutation on the 
 27th of the following month. At the close of it 
 he says, " The points in controversy between 
 us are (as I do heartily believe) fundamental 
 
 *In the church "Booke" there is, in 1660, a minute 
 directing "that Brother Bunyan do prepare to speak," and 
 ♦'that Brother Whiteman fail not to speak to him of it." 
 Whether Whiteman was then a pastor we cannot say. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 225 
 
 truths of the Christian religion. Let all men 
 know, that I quarrel not with him about things 
 wherein I dissent from the Church of England ; 
 but do contend for the truth contained in these 
 very Articles from which he hath so deeply 
 revolted." 
 
 Of this work Mr. Philip thus speaks : — " It is 
 a very remarkable treatise on justification by 
 faith ; and must have completed the confidence 
 of the church in their choice of Bunyan to the 
 pastorate. They had long known him as a 
 good minister of Jesus Christ, and this proved 
 him to be an able minister of the New Testa- 
 ment." 
 
 Fowler in reply got up a scurrilous pamphlet 
 of seventy-eight pages, entitled, " Dirt Wip't 
 off: or a manifest discovery of the gross igno- 
 rance, erroneousness, and most unchristian and 
 wicked spirit of John Bunyan, Lay Preacher in 
 Bedford ; which he hath shown in a vile pamph- 
 let." "This tirade," says Mr. Philip, "was 
 published in 1672. It does not bear Fowler's 
 name ; but pretends to be the work of an anon- 
 ymous friend. And it may have been w T ritten 
 by an amanuensis ; but, throughout, it is evi- 
 dently the dictate of Fowler himself. I am 
 compelled to say this, after many zealous efforts 
 to remove the odium of vulgar scurrility from a 
 15 
 
226 LIFE OF JOHN B'JNY/N. 
 
 scholar who reached the bench." Fowler was 
 afterward made a bishop. 
 
 Bunyan's next publication was entitled, " A 
 Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my 
 Practice ; or with who, and who not, I can hold 
 Church Fellowship, or the Communion of Saints : 
 Shewing by divers Arguments, that though I 
 dare not communicate with the open Profane, 
 yet I can with those visible Saints that differ 
 about "Water Baptism ; wherein is also dis- 
 coursed, whether that be the entering Ordinance 
 into Fellowship or no." This was published 
 in 1772. It is customary among the dissenters 
 in England for preachers to make a confession 
 of their faith when set apart to the work of the 
 ministry. Whether the work just mentioned is 
 the statement of his doctrine, given by Bunyan 
 at his ordination, we cannot tell ; but, from its 
 appearing so shortly after that event, it is highly 
 probable that it is so. The latter part of it, 
 which treats on the terms of communion, brought 
 him into a controversy with some of his Bap- 
 tist brethren, which we shall hereafter have 
 occasion to notice. 
 
 In the address " To the Reader," prefixed to 
 this work, which was written but a few months 
 before his release, Bunyan thus refers to the 
 subject of his long-continued confinement : — 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 227 
 
 " I marvel not that both yourself and others 
 do think my long imprisonment strange, or rather 
 strangely of me for the sake of that ; for verily I 
 should also have done it myself, had not the Holy 
 Ghost long since forbidden me. 1 Pet. iv, 12; 
 1 John iii, 13. Nay, verily, that notwithstand- 
 ing, had the adversary but fastened the suppo- 
 sition of guilt upon me, my long trials might by 
 this time have put it beyond dispute. For I 
 have not hitherto been so sordid as to stand to 
 a doctrine, right or wrong ; much less when so 
 weighty an argument as above eleven years' 
 imprisonment is continually dogging of me to 
 weigh and pause, and pause again, the grounds 
 and foundations for those principles for which 
 I thus have suffered ; but having not only at my 
 trial asserted them, but also since, even all this 
 tedious track of time, in cold blood, a thousand 
 times, by the word of God, examined them, and 
 found them good, I cannot, I dare not now revolt 
 or deny the same, on pain of eternal damnation. 
 
 " And that my principles and practice may 
 be open to the view and judgment of all men, 
 though they stand and fall to none but the word 
 of God alone, I have, in this small treatise, 
 presented to this generation, " A Confession of 
 my Faith, and a Reason of my Practice in the 
 Worship of God ;" by which, although it be 
 
228 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 brief, candid Christians may, I hope, without a 
 violation to faith or lo~ve, judge I may have the 
 root of the matter found in me." 
 
 " Faith and holiness are my professed princi- 
 ples, with an endeavor, so far as in me lieth, to 
 be at peace with all men. What shall I say? 
 Let mine enemies themselves be judges, if any- 
 thing in these following doctrines, or if aught 
 that any man hath heard me preach, doth, 
 according to the true intent of my words, 
 savour of heresy or rebellion. I say again, let 
 they themselves be judges if aught they find in 
 my writing 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 the ungodly and open 
 profane. Neither can I, because commanded 
 to the contrary, consent that my soul should be 
 governed by the superstitious inventions of this 
 world, in any of my approaches to God. Where- 
 fore, 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 of conscience 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 229 
 
 a continual butchery and slaughter-shop — un- 
 less, putting out my 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 should continue so long, even till the moss 
 shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather than thus 
 to violate my faith and principles." 
 
 Much obscurity has hitherto rested on the 
 subject of Bunyan's deliverance from prison. 
 He himself says nothing about it; but all his 
 early biographers attribute it to the interference 
 of Dr. Barlow, afterward bishop of Lincoln. 
 Recent researches, however, have brought to 
 light the fact that he owed his enlargement to 
 the influence, not of a bishop, but of a Quaker. 
 The evidences of this fact are found in a letter 
 from Ellis Hookes, a Quaker, to George Fox, 
 the founder of the sect ; another letter from the 
 same to Fox's wife ; and an autobiographical 
 narrative, published in 1725, entitled, " The 
 Christian Progress of George Whitehead," who 
 was also a member of the Society of Friends. 
 Extracts from these have lately been published, 
 from which we have condensed a relation of the 
 circumstances which led to Bunyan's release, 
 which took place about the close of 1672. The 
 account will be found in the Appendix, p. 333. 
 
230 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 " Being now again at liberty, and having, 
 through mercy, shaken off his bodily fetters, 
 (for those upon his soul were broken before, by 
 the abounding grace that filled his heart,) he 
 went to visit those that had been a comfort to 
 him in his tribulation, with a Christian-like ac- 
 knowledgment of their kindness and charity ; 
 giving encouragement by his example, if it hap- 
 pened to be their hard haps to fall into affliction 
 or trouble, then to suffer patiently for the sake 
 of a good conscience, and for the love of God in 
 Jesus Christ toward their souls." — Doe. 
 
 Soon after his enlargement his congregation 
 built him a church. The ground on which it 
 stood was bought by subscription on the 1 1 th 
 of August, 1672. The original agreement for the 
 ground is still preserved. " It is between J. Ruff- 
 head, shoemaker, and John Bunyan, brazier, both 
 of Bedford, for £50, lawful money." — Philip. 
 
 In the following year his eldest son, Thomas, 
 became a member of the society, and was no 
 doubt received with rapture by his father to the 
 church and table of the Lord. It is thus re- 
 corded in the church book : — " The 6th of the 
 eleventh month, 1673, Thomas Bunyan received 
 into communion." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BUNYAN DEFENDS THE PRACTICE OF COMMUNING 
 WITH ALL TRUE CHRISTIANS. 
 
 To the Confession of Faith, which Bunyan 
 published soon after his ordination, he appended 
 what he called, " A Reason of my Practice ; or 
 with who, and who not, I can hold Church Fel- 
 lowship, or the Communion of Saints." It is 
 well known to be the practice of the Baptists, 
 in general, to admit none to their communion 
 but those who are baptized in their sense of the 
 term, that is, immersed on a profession of their 
 faith ; thus excluding all but the members of 
 their own persuasion. The church at Bedford, 
 as has already been stated, though composed 
 chiefly of Baptists, was constituted on more 
 liberal principles, requiring no other terms of 
 communion than " a profession of faith in Christ, 
 attended by holiness of life." This drew upon 
 them considerable reproach from the strict-com- 
 munion Baptists, which occasioned the publica- 
 tion of the treatise just named. In it Bunyan, 
 after stating that he cannot commune with any 
 who "profess not faith and holiness," or whose 
 conduct does not consist with such a profession 
 
232 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 proceeds to vindicate the practice of the church 
 of which he was now the pastor ; showing that 
 it was their duty to hold communion with all 
 that were " visible saints," whether they were 
 baptized or not. Like other Baptists, he held 
 infant baptism to be no baptism at all ; but then 
 he maintained, that as on the one hand baptism 
 did not make a person a Christian, so neither 
 on the other did the want of it prevent him from 
 being one. He says, " A failure in such a cir- 
 cumstance as water doth not unchristian us, . . , 
 for thousands of thousands that could not con- 
 sent thereto as we have, more glorious than we 
 are like to do, acquitted themselves and their 
 Christianity before men, and are now with the 
 ' innumerable company of angels and the spirits 
 of just men made perfect.' What is said of eat- 
 ing, or the contrary, ( Rom. xiv ; 1 Cor. viii,) 
 may, as to this, be said of water baptism. Nei- 
 ther if I be baptized am I the better ; neither if 
 I be not am I the worse : not the better before 
 God, not the worse before men ; still meaning 
 as Paul doth, providing I walk according to my 
 light with God ; (otherwise it is false ; for if a 
 man that seeth it to be his duty shall despisingly 
 neglect it, or if he that hath no faith therein 
 shall foolishly take it up, both these are for this 
 the worse, being convicted in themselves for 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 233 
 
 transgressors.) He therefore that doth it ac- 
 cording to his light, doth well ; and he that doth 
 it not, or dare not do it, for want of light, doth 
 not ill ; for he approve th his heart to be sincere 
 with God. ... If therefore he be not by grace 
 a partaker of light in that circumstance which 
 thou professest, yet he is a partaker of that 
 liberty and mercy by which thou standest. He 
 hath liberty to call God Father, as thou, and to 
 believe he shall be saved by Jesus ; his faith, 
 as thine, hath purified his heart ; he is tender 
 of the glory of God, as thou art ; and can claim 
 by grace an inheritance in heaven." On the 
 ground therefore that the circumstances in which 
 the Baptists differed from their brethren were 
 such as " neither make nor mar Christianity," 
 he urges, " Let us love one another, and walk 
 together, leaving each other in all such circum- 
 stances to our own Master, to our own faith. 
 ' Who art thou that judgest another man's ser- 
 vant ? to his own master he standeth or falleth.' 
 .... What greater contempt can be thrown 
 upon the saints, than for their brethren to cast 
 them off, or to debar them from church commu- 
 nion ? . . . What can the church do more to the 
 sinners, or open profane ? Civil commerce you 
 will have with the worst, and what more will 
 you have with these ? Perhaps you will say, 
 
234 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 1 We can pray and preach with these, and hold 
 them Christians, saints, and godly.' Well, but 
 let me ask you one word further : Do you be- 
 lieve that, of very conscience, they cannot con- 
 sent, as you, to that of water baptism ; and that 
 if they had light therein they would as willingly 
 do it as you ? Why then, as I have shewed you, 
 our refusal to hold communion with them is 
 without a ground from the word of God. 
 
 " But can you commit your soul to their min- 
 istry, and join with them in prayer, and yet not 
 count them meet for other gospel privileges ? I 
 would know by what scripture you do it 1 ... 
 If thou canst hear them as God's ministers, and 
 sit under their ministry as God's ordinance, then 
 shew me where God hath such a gospel minis- 
 try as that the person ministering may not, though 
 desiring it, be admitted with you to the closest 
 communion of saints."* 
 
 * The inconsistency of churches refusing to commune 
 with those whom they yet recognise as fellow-Christians, 
 and even as Christian ministers, is strikingly exhibited in 
 the following incident : — The Rev. Rowland Hill had 
 been requested by a Baptist Church to preach for them 
 on the occasion of a special collection being taken up. 
 At the close of the service, it being communion Sunday, 
 Mr. Hill sat down to partake with them. As the church 
 practised what is called close communion, the officers 
 felt themselves to be in rather an awkward situation ; but 
 at length one of them went to Mr. Hill, and said, " Sir, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 235 
 
 A reply to this work was published by two 
 Baptist preachers, named Paul and Kiffen, who 
 found it much easier to revile their opponent 
 than to answer his arguments. Bunyan imme- 
 diately got up a rejoinder, entitled, " Differ- 
 ences in Judgment about Water Baptism no Bar 
 to Communion," &c. In the preface he informs 
 the reader that the discussion was not one of 
 his seeking, but that he was compelled to en- 
 gage in it in self-defence. He says, " I had not 
 set pen to paper about this controversy, had we 
 been let alone in our Christian communion. But 
 being assaulted for more than sixteen years, 
 wherein the brethren of the baptized way, as 
 they had thejopportunity, have sought to break 
 us in pieces, merely because we are not, in their 
 way, all baptized first ; I could not, I durst not, 
 forbear to do a little, if it might be to settle the 
 brethren, and to arm them against the attempts 
 which also of late they began to revive upon us. 
 That I deny the ordinance of baptism, or that I 
 have placed one piece of an argument against 
 it, though they feign it, is quite without colour 
 of truth. All I say is, that the church of Christ 
 hath not warrant to keep out of their communion 
 the Christian that waiketh according to his light 
 
 you cannot sit at our table." "Indeed," replied he, " I 
 thought it had been the Lord's table," 
 
236 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 with God. I will not make reflections upon 
 those unhandsome brands that my brethren have 
 laid upon me for this, as, I am a Machiavelian, 
 a man devilish, proud, insolent, presumptuous, 
 and the like ; neither will I say, as they, ' The 
 Lord rebuke thee f words fitter to be spoken to 
 the devil than a brother. . . . "What Mr. KifTen 
 hath done in the matter I forgive, and love him 
 never the worse ; but must stand by my prin- 
 ciples, because they are peaceable, godly, pro- 
 fitable, and such as tend to the edification of my 
 brother, and, as I believe, will be justified in 
 the day of judgment." 
 
 He then goes on to point out their misrepre- 
 sentations of his doctrine, and the irrelevancy 
 of many of their arguments, vindicates further 
 his own practice, and shows that theirs tends to 
 produce dissensions and divisions among Chris- 
 tians. One of them had affirmed that gospel 
 believers were known by water baptism, as gen- 
 tlemen's servants were known by their livery. 
 This comparison, replied Bunyan, " is fantasti- 
 cal. Go but ten doors from where men have 
 knowledge of you, and see how many of the 
 world, Or Christians, will know you by this 
 goodly livery to be one that hath put on Christ. 
 What ! known by water baptism to be one that 
 hath put on Christ, as a gentleman's man is 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 237 
 
 known to be his master's servant by the gay- 
 garment his master gave him ! Away, fond man, 
 you do quite forget the text : ' By this shall all 
 men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love 
 
 ONE ANOTHER.'" 
 
 Mr. Paul, backed by several others, came 
 again to the attack, more abusive than before. 
 " They fell in might and main upon me," says 
 Bunyan ; " some comparing me to the devil, 
 others to a bedlam, others to a sot, and the like, 
 for my seeking peace and truth among the god- 
 ly." He wrote in reply his " Peaceable Prin- 
 ciples and True ; or a brief answer to Mr. Dan- 
 vers' and Mr. Paul's books, &c, where their 
 Scriptureless motives are overthrown, and my 
 peaceable principles still maintained." This 
 seems to have been his last publication on this 
 subject. Throughout the whole controversy he 
 excelled his opponents as much in temper as in 
 argument ; for though he is sometimes severe, 
 he never exhibits anything like malice or per- 
 sonal feeling. " Railing for railing," he says, 
 " I will not answer, though one of these op- 
 posers (Mr. Dan by name) did tell me, that Mr. 
 Paul's reply, when it came out, would suffi- 
 ciently provoke me to so beastly a work : but 
 what is the reason of his so writing, if not the 
 peevishness of his own spirit, or the want of 
 
238 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 better matter ? This I thank God for, that some 
 of the brethren of this way are of late more mo- 
 derate than formerly ; and that those that retain 
 their former sourness still, are left by the bre- 
 thren to the vinegar of their own spirits ; their 
 brethren ingenuously confessing, that could those 
 of their company bear it, they have liberty in 
 their own souls to communicate with saints as 
 saints, though they differ about water baptism. 
 Well, God banish bitterness out of the churches, 
 and pardon them that are maintainers of schisms 
 and divisions among the godly. ' Behold, how 
 good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell 
 
 together in unity,' &c I was advised by 
 
 some, who considered the wise man's proverb, 
 not to let Mr. Paul pass with all his bitter in- 
 vectives ; but I considered that ' the wrath of 
 man worketh not the righteousness of God ;' 
 therefore I shall leave him to the censure and 
 rebuke of the sober, where I doubt not but his 
 unsavoury ways with me will be seasonably 
 brought to his remembrance. Farewell." 
 
 He then closes his work with the following 
 singular subscription: — "I am thine to serve 
 thee, Christian, so long as I can look out at these 
 two eyes that have had so much dirt thrown at 
 them by many. j 0H n Bunyan." 
 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHARACTER OF BUNYAN'S PREACHING, WITH 
 EXTRACTS FROM HIS SERMONS. 
 
 Bunyan's labours as a preacher were by no 
 means confined to Bedford and its immediate 
 vicinity. It was his custom, two or three times 
 a year, to take an extensive tour in " the region 
 round about;" and not a few of the Baptist 
 Churches in Bedfordshire, and the adjoining 
 counties of Cambridge, Hertford, Buckingham, 
 and Northampton, trace their origin to his itine- 
 rant labours. These periodical visitations oc- 
 casioned some jeeringly to call him Bishop 
 Bunyan ; but though applied to him in ridicule, 
 he had a far more Scriptural right to this title 
 than had many of the " downy doctors " by whom 
 it was then borne. 
 
 It appears too that from the period of his re- 
 lease he paid an annual visit to London, and 
 preached among the congregations of the non- 
 conformists, where, as Doe tells us, " he used 
 his talents to the great good-liking of his hear- 
 ers ; and even some to whom he had been mis- 
 represented, upon the account of his [want of] 
 education, were convinced of his worth and 
 
240 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 knowledge in sacred things, as perceiving him 
 to be a man of sound judgment, delivering him- 
 self plainly and powerfully; insomuch that many 
 who came spectators for novelty, rather than to 
 be edified and improved, went away well satis- 
 fied with what they heard ; and wondered, as 
 the Jews did at our Lord, namely, Whence this 
 man should have these things ; perhaps not con- 
 sidering that God more immediately assists those 
 that make it their business industriously and 
 cheerfully to labour in his vineyard." 
 
 His usual place of preaching, when in Lon- 
 don, was a meeting-house in Zoar-street, South- 
 wark,* which, however, so great was his repu- 
 tation, would not contain half the people that 
 came to hear him, if but a day's notice was 
 given. His friend, Charles Doe, says, " I have 
 
 * About the commencement of the present century 
 this meeting-house, after having been closed for twenty, 
 one years, was converted into a wheelwright's shop, for 
 which purpose it was still used so late as 1821, at which 
 time, a person who visited it says, " A part of the gallery 
 yet remains, with the same wooden pegs still sticking in 
 its front which once held the uncouth hats of those whom 
 the gallant cavaliers of a former period pointed out to 
 public contempt under the designation of * round heads,* 
 and ' puritans.' ... A small portion of this edifice is em- 
 ployed for the instruction of children. The entrance to 
 this school once formed the side entrance to the meeting- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 241 
 
 seen, by my computation, about twelve hundred 
 persons to hear him at a morning lecture, on a 
 
 house." It has since been pulled down. The pulpit, of 
 which our engraving (copied from the London Mirror, 
 vol. xxxvi) is an accurate representation, was removed to 
 a chapel in Palace Yard, Lambeth, where it is preserved 
 as a treasured relic of the extraordinary man who had so 
 often expounded from it the word of life. 
 16 
 
242 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 working day, in dark winter time. I also com- 
 puted about three thousand that came to hear 
 him at a town's-end meeting-house ; so that half 
 were fain to go back again for want of room : 
 and then himself was fain at a back door to be 
 pulled almost over the people to get up stairs to 
 the pulpit." In the midst of all this popularity 
 he was humble and modest in his deportment ; 
 and his conduct was as irreproachable as his 
 manners were unassuming. 
 
 The celebrated Dr. Owen, who appears to 
 have been a personal friend of Bunyan's,* some- 
 times formed one of his London auditors. It is 
 said that the doctor being once asked by Charles 
 II. why so learned a man as he was could sit 
 and hear an illiterate tinker prate, replied, " May 
 it please your majesty, could I possess the 
 tinkers ability for preaching, I would most 
 gladly relinquish all my learning." 
 
 In giving account of Bunyan's call to the 
 ministry, we briefly adverted to his qualifica- 
 tions for this work : we purpose in this place 
 to make some further remarks on the character 
 and style of his pulpit exercises, illustrating them 
 by some passages from his printed discourses. 
 
 * Dr. Barlow is supposed to have been influenced 
 by Dr. Owen, (who, it is said, had been his tutor,) to 
 lend his aid in procuring Bunyan's release. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 243 
 
 His language is always plain and vigorous, 
 free from everything like art or affectation. 
 " His style," observes Dr. Southey, " is a home- 
 spun, not a manufactured one. ... It is a clear 
 stream of current English — the vernacular of 
 his age ; sometimes indeed in its rusticity and 
 coarseness, but always in its plainness and 
 strength. To this natural style Bunyan is in 
 some degree beholden for his general popularity. 
 His language is everywhere level to the most 
 ignorant reader, and to the meanest capacity : 
 there is a homely reality about it ; a nursery 
 tale is not more intelligible, in its manner of 
 relation, to a child." 
 
 A striking characteristic of his discourses, 
 and indeed of all his writings, is his wonderful 
 command of Scripture phraseology. He had 
 an extraordinary acquaintance with the letter 
 of the Bible, and an admirable facility in its use 
 and application. Not a doctrine, warning, or 
 exhortation, but at every turn he could illustrate 
 or " clench it with a text." 
 
 His preaching was eminently practical. What- 
 ever sentiments he might hold about uncondi- 
 tional election, effectual calling, and irresistible 
 grace, he expected believers to show their faith 
 by their works. His denunciations of fruitless 
 professors must sometimes have made the ears 
 
244 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 of such to tingle. " What do they do in the 
 vineyard 1 let them work, or get them out ; the 
 
 vineyard must have labourers in it God 
 
 expecteth fruit ; God calleth for fruit ; yea, God 
 will shortly come seeking fruit. Barren fig-tree, 
 dost thou hear ? either bear fruit, or go out of 
 the vineyard."* 
 
 Much of the time in which he exercised his 
 ministry was characterized by the abounding of 
 ungodliness and profanity, fostered by the ex- 
 ample of a licentious court, and unrebuked by 
 a hireling state clergy. " Wickedness like a 
 flood," says Bunyan, " is like to drown our Eng- 
 lish world ; it begins already to be above the 
 tops of the mountains ; it has almost swallowed 
 up all ; our youth, our middle age, old age, and 
 all, are almost carried away by this flood." 
 This being the case, we cannot wonder that in 
 his preaching he should so often, in the ears of 
 the sleeping sinner, sound an alarm of the final 
 perdition of ungodly men, when the wrath of the 
 
 * The practical tone of his ministry so exasperated 
 John Wildman, one of the members of the church, that 
 he charged Bunyan with inducing wives to inform against 
 their husbands. This charge the church investigated in 
 1680, and found it such a wanton slander on Bunyan and 
 the sisterhood, that they unanimously voted Wildman "an 
 abominable liar," and dealt with him accordingly.- jPfa'fojp. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 245 
 
 Almighty shall be revealed against them in 
 flaming fire, at the last day. " Sinner, awake ; 
 yea, I say unto thee, awake ! Sin lieth at thy 
 door, and God's axe lieth at thy root, and hell- 
 fire is right underneath thee. I say again, 
 Awake ! * Every tree therefore that bringeth 
 not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
 the fire.' . . . Awake ! art yet asleep, poor sin- 
 ner ? Let me set the trumpet to thine ear once 
 again. The heavens will shortly be on a burn- 
 ing flame ; the earth and the works thereof 
 shall be burned up ; and then wicked men shall 
 go into perdition. Dost thou hear this, sinner? 
 Hark again ! the sweet morsels of sin will then 
 be fled and gone, and the bitter, burning fruits 
 of them only left. ... I will yet propound to 
 thee God's ponderous question, and then for this 
 time leave thee : ' Can thine heart endure, or 
 can thine hands be strong, in the day that I 
 shall deal with thee, saith the Lord V What 
 sayest thou ? wilt thou answer this question 
 now ; or wilt thou take time to do it ; or wilt 
 thou be desperate, and venture all ? And let me 
 put this text in thine ear to keep it open ; and 
 so the Lord have mercy upon thee : ' Upon the 
 wicked shall the Lord rain snares, and fire, and 
 brimstone, and an horrible tempest; this shall be 
 the portion of their cup.'" — The Strait Gate, 
 
246 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 The following appeals occur in his discourses 
 on the "Jerusalem Sinner," Luke xxiv, 47 ; and 
 the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Luke 
 xvi, 19-31. 
 
 " Hast thou not reason ? Canst thou not so 
 much as once soberly think of thy dying hour 1 
 or of whither thy sinful life will drive thee then? 
 Hast thou no conscience ? or having one, is it 
 rocked so fast asleep by sin, or made so weary 
 by an unsuccessful calling upon thee, that it is 
 laid down and cares for thee no more ? Poor 
 man ! thy state is to be lamented. Hast no 
 judgment ? Art not able to conclude that to be 
 saved is better than to burn in hell ; and that 
 eternal life, with God's favour, is better than 
 temporal life in God's displeasure? Hast no 
 affection but what is brutish 1 what, none at all 1 
 no affection for the God that made thee ? none 
 for his loving Son that has showed his love, and 
 died for thee 1 Is not heaven worth thy affec- 
 tion 1 O, poor man ! which is strongest, think- 
 est thou, God or thee 1 If thou art not able to 
 overcome him, thou art a fool for standing out 
 against him. * It is a fearful thing to fall into 
 the hands of the living God.' He will gripe 
 hard ; his fist is stronger than a lion's paw ; 
 take heed of him, he will be angry if you de- 
 spise his Son ; and will you stand guilty in your 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 247 
 
 trespasses, when he offereth you his grace and 
 favour ?" 
 
 "Consider thus with thyself: Would I be 
 glad to have all, every one of my sins, to q^rne 
 in against me, to inflame the justice of God 
 against me ? Would I be glad to be bound up 
 in them, as the three children were bound in 
 their clothes, and to be as really thrown into 
 the fiery furnace of the wrath of almighty God, 
 as they were into Nebuchadnezzar's fiery fur- 
 nace ? Would I be glad to have all and every 
 one of the ten commandments to discharge 
 themselves against my soul, — the first saying, 
 ' Damn him, for he hath broken me ; ' the second 
 saying, * Damn him, for he hath broken me ! ' &c. 
 Consider how terrible this will be ; yea, more 
 terrible than if thou shouldst have ten of the 
 biggest pieces of ordnance in England to be 
 discharged against thy body, thunder, thunder, 
 one after another ! Nay, this would not be com- 
 parable to the reports that the law (for the breach 
 thereof) will give against thy soul ; for those 
 can but kill the body, but these will keep both 
 body and soul ; and that not for an hour, a day, 
 a month, or a year, but they will condemn thee 
 for ever. 
 
 " Mark, it is for ever, for ever. It is into 
 everlasting damnation, eternal destruction, eter- 
 
248 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 nal wrath and displeasure from God, eternal 
 gnawings of conscience, eternal continuance 
 with devils. ... If it were but for a time, even 
 ten thousand years, there would be ground of 
 comfort, and hopes of deliverance ; but here is 
 thy misery, — this is thy state for ever, here thoii 
 must be for ever. When thou lookest about thee* 
 and seest what an innumerable company of 
 howling devils thou art amongst, thou shalt 
 think this again, — this is my portion for ever. 
 When thou hast been in hell so many thousand 
 years as there are stars in the firmament, or 
 drops in the sea, or sands on the sea-shore, yet 
 art thou to lie there for ever. O ! this one word, 
 ever, how will it torment thy soul !" 
 
 " Consider and regard these things, and lay 
 them to thy heart, before it be too late. ! I 
 say, regard, regard, for hell is hot. God's hand 
 is up! The Law is resolved to discharge against 
 thy soul ! The judgment day is at hand ! The 
 graves are ready to fly open ! The trumpet is 
 near the sounding ! The sentence will ere long 
 be past, and then you and I cannot call time 
 again." 
 
 " Friends, 1 have given you but a short touch 
 of the torments of hell. O ! I am set, I am set, 
 and am not able to utter what my mind conceives 
 of the torments of hell ! Yet this let me say to 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYANT. 249 
 
 thee, Accept of God's mercy through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, lest thou feel that with thy con- 
 science which I cannot express with my tongue, 
 and say, ' I am sorely tormented in this flame.' " 
 
 Here is a counterpart to the above ; for Bun- 
 yan delighted to encourage the people of God, 
 £s well as felt it his duty to " warn the wicked." 
 He was a Barnabas as well as a Boanerges. 
 
 " Consider what a happy state thou art in, 
 that hast gotten the faith of the Lord Jesus into 
 thy soul. (But be sure thou have it.) I say, 
 how safe, how sure, how happy art thou ! For 
 when others go to hell, thou must go to heaven; 
 when others go to the devil, thou must go to 
 God ; when others go to prison, thou must be 
 set at liberty, at ease, and at freedom ; when 
 others must roar for sorrow of heart, thou shalt 
 sing for joy of heart. 
 
 " Consider, thou must have all thy well-spent 
 life to follow thee, instead of all thy sins ; and 
 the glorious blessings of the gospel, instead of 
 the dreadful curses and condemnations of the 
 law ; the blessings of the Father, instead of a 
 fiery sentence from the Judge. 
 
 " Let dissolution come when it will, it can do 
 thee no harm ; for it will be only a passage out 
 of a prison into a palace ; out of a sea of trou- 
 bles into an haven of rest ; out of a cloud of 
 
250 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 enemies, to an innumerable company of true and 
 faithful friends ; out of shame, reproach, and 
 contempt, into exceeding great and eternal 
 glory. For death shall not hurt thee with his 
 sting; nor bite thee with his soul-murdering 
 teeth ; but shall be a welcome guest to thee, 
 even to thy soul, in that it is sent to free thee 
 from thy troubles which thou art in whilst here 
 in this world, dwelling in a tabernacle of clay. 
 .... Therefore let this cause thee cheerfully to 
 exercise thy patience under all the calamities, 
 crosses, troubles, and afflictions that may come 
 upon thee ; and by patient continuance in well- 
 doing, to commit both thyself, and thine affairs 
 and actions, into the hands of God, through Je- 
 sus Christ, as to a faithful Creator, who is true 
 to his word, and loveth to give unto thee what 
 he hath promised thee." 
 
 The power and effect with which he " wield- 
 ed the terrors of the Lord " in his preaching are 
 thus recorded by one who knew him well, and 
 who wrote an elegy on his death : — 
 
 " When for conviction on the law he fell, 
 You'd think you heard the damned's groans in hell ; 
 And then, almost at every word he spake, 
 Men's lips would quiver, and their hearts would ache !" 
 
 Nor was he less successful as a " son of conso- 
 lation." His friend, Charles Doe, says, " Thou- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 251 
 
 sands of Christians, in country and town, can 
 testify that their comforts under his ministry 
 have been to an admiration, so that their joy 
 showed itself by much weeping." * 
 
 The following passage from " The Heavenly 
 Footman" is quoted with approbation by Southey, 
 who observes that it is " in Bishop Latimer's 
 vein," an opinion which will be concurred in by 
 every one at all acquainted with the sermons of 
 that distinguished reformer and martyr. " They 
 that would have heaven must run for it, because 
 the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell, follow 
 them. There is never a poor soul that is going 
 to heaven, but the devil, the law, sin, death, and 
 hell, make after that soul. ' The devil, your 
 adversary, as a roaring lion, goeth about, seek- 
 ing whom he may devour.' And I will assure 
 you, the devil is nimble, he can rim apace, he 
 is light of foot, he hath overtaken many, he hath 
 turned up their heels, and hath given them an 
 everlasting fall. Also the Law, that can shoot 
 a great way ; have a care thou keep out of the 
 
 * Another contemporary and biographer of Bunyan 
 says of his preaching: "He laid open before men the 
 saving promises and dreadful denunciations of the Scrip, 
 ture, and sent it so home, that it not only created joy but 
 trembling ; each one on their departure confessing that 
 their hearts were moved at his words." 
 
252 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 reach of those great guns, the ten command- 
 ments. Hell also hath a wide mouth ; it can 
 stretch itself further than you are aware of. 
 And as the angel said to Lot, ' Take heed, look 
 not behind thee, neither tarry thou in all the 
 plain, (that is, anywhere between this and hea- 
 ven,) lest thou be consumed;' so say I to thee, 
 Take heed, tarry not, lest either the devil, hell, 
 death, or the fearful curses of the law of God, 
 do overtake thee, and throw thee in the midst 
 of thy sins, so as never to rise and recover again. 
 If this were well considered, then thou, as well 
 as I, wouldst say, They that will have heaven 
 must run for it." 
 
 " But if thou wouldst so run as to obtain the 
 kingdom of heaven, then be sure that thou get 
 into the way that leadeth thither ; for it is a vain 
 thing to think that ever thou shalt have the prize, 
 though thou runnest never so fast, unless thou 
 art in the way that leads to it. Set the case, 
 that there should be a man in London that was 
 to run to York for a wager : now, though he run 
 never so swiftly, yet if he run full south, he 
 might run himself quickly out of breath, and be 
 never the nearer the prize, but rather the further 
 off. Just so it is here ; it is not simply the 
 runner, nor yet the hasty runner, that winneth 
 the crown, unless he be in the way that leadeth 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 253 
 
 thereto. I have observed, that little time which 
 I have been a professor, that there is a great 
 running to and fro, some this way, and some 
 that way ; yet it is to be feared most of them 
 are out of the way, and then, though they run 
 as swift as the eagle can fly, they are benefited 
 nothing at all. ... If now thou ask, ' Which is 
 the way?' I tell thee, it is Christ, the Son of 
 Mary, the Son of God. Jesus saith, ' I am the 
 way, the truth, and the life ; no man cometh to 
 the Father, but by me.'"* To sermons in such 
 a strain, adds Mr. Southey, however hearers 
 might differ in taste and in opinion, there are 
 none who would not listen. 
 
 Bunyan's vividness of imagination, and power 
 of expression, enabled him to give almost life 
 and reality to some of his descriptions. Take 
 for instance the following, from " The Barren 
 Fig-tree," ( a discourse on Luke, xiii, 6-9, ) 
 which is the last passage we shall quote. 
 The preacher is describing the doom of the 
 fruitless professor. 
 
 " God comes the third year, as he did before ; 
 but still he finds but a barren fig-tree ; no fruit. 
 
 * " The Heavenly Footman ; or a Description of the 
 Man that gets to Heaven ; together with the way he runs 
 in, the marks he goes by ; and also some directions how 
 to run so as to obtain :" a discourse on 1 Cor. ix, 24. 
 
254 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Now he cries out again, ' thou dresser of my 
 vineyard, come hither ; here is a fig-tree hath 
 stood these three years in my vineyard, and hath 
 at every season disappointed my expectation. 
 Cut it down ; my patience is worn out ; I shall 
 wait on this fig-tree no longer.' 
 
 " And now he begins to shake the fig-tree 
 with his threatenings. ' Fetch out the axe.' 
 Now the axe is death. Death therefore is called 
 for: 'Death, come smite me this fig-tree.' And 
 withal the Lord shakes this sinner, and whirls 
 him upon a sick bed, saying, ' Take him, Death; 
 he hath abused my patience and forbearance, 
 not remembering that it should have led him to 
 repentance and the fruits thereof. Death, fetch 
 away this fig-tree to the fire ; fetch this barren 
 professor to hell.' At this Death comes with 
 grim looks to the chamber, and Hell follows 
 him to the bed-side ; and both stare this profes- 
 sor in the face ; yea, begin to lay hands upon 
 him, one smiting him with pains in his body, 
 with headache, heartache, backache, shortness 
 of breath, trembling at joints, stopping at the 
 chest, and almost all the symptoms of a man 
 past recovery. Now while Death is thus tor- 
 menting the body, Hell is doing with the mind 
 and conscience, casting sparks of fire in thither; 
 . wounding with sorrows, and fears of everlasting 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 255 
 
 damnation, the spirit of this poor creature. And 
 now he begins to bethink himself, and cry to 
 God for mercy : ' Lord, spare me ! Lord, spare 
 me!' 'Nay,' saith God, 'you have been a pro- 
 vocation to me these three years. How many 
 times have you disappointed me ? How many 
 seasons have you spent in vain ? How many 
 sermons and other mercies did I of my patience 
 afford you ? but to no purpose at all. Take 
 him, Death.' ' O Lord God,' saith the sinner, 
 ' spare me but this once ; raise me but this once ! 
 Indeed, I have been but a barren professor, and 
 have stood to no purpose at all in thy vineyard ; 
 but spare ! O spare this one time, I beseech 
 thee, and I will be better.' ' Away, away, you 
 will not; I have tried you these three years 
 already ; you are naught ; if I should recover 
 you again you would be as bad as you were 
 before.' (And all this talk is while Death stands 
 by.) The sinner cries again, ' Good Lord, try 
 me this once ; let me get up again this once, 
 and see if I do not mend.' ' But will you pro- 
 mise me to mend ? ' ' Yes indeed, Lord, and vow 
 it too ; I will never be so bad again ; I will be 
 better.' ' Well,' saith God, ' Death, let this pro- 
 fessor alone for this time ; I will try him awhile 
 longer ; he hath promised, he hath vowed, that 
 he will mend his ways. It may be he will mind . 
 
256 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 to keep his promises. Vows are solemn things ; 
 it may be he will fear to break his vows. Arise 
 from off thy bed ! ' 
 
 " And now God lays down his axe. At this 
 the poor creature is very thankful ; praises God, 
 and fawns upon him ; shows as if he did it 
 heartily ; and calls to others to thank him too. 
 He therefore riseth, as one would think, to be a 
 new creature indeed. But by that he hath put 
 on his clothes, is come down from his bed, and 
 ventured into the yard or shop, and there sees 
 how all things are gone to sixes and sevens, he 
 begins to have second thoughts, and says to his 
 folks, ' What have you all been doing 1 How 
 are all things out of order ? I am, I cannot tell 
 what behind. One may see if a man be put a 
 little to a side, that you have neither wisdom 
 nor prudence to order things.' And now, in- 
 stead of seeking to spend the rest of his time to 
 God, he doubleth his diligence after this world. 
 'Alas!' he saith, 'all must not be lost; we must 
 have provident care.' And thus, quite forget- 
 ting the sorrows of death, the pains of hell, the 
 promises and vows he made to God to be better, 
 because judgment was not speedily executed, 
 therefore the heart of this poor creature is fully 
 set in him to do evil. 
 
 " These things proving ineffectual, God takes 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 257 
 
 hold of his axe again, and sends Death to a wife, 
 to a child, to his cattle. At this the poor bar- 
 ren professor cries out again, ' Lord, I have sin- 
 ned ; spare me once more, I beseech thee. O 
 take not away the desire of mine eyes ; spare 
 my children ; bless me in my labours, and I 
 will be better.' * No,' saith God, ' you lied to 
 me the last time ; I will trust you in this no 
 longer : ' and withal he tumbleth the wife, the 
 child, the estate, into a grave. 
 
 " At this the poor creature is afflicted and 
 distressed ; rends his clothes, and begins to call 
 the breaking of his promise and vows to mind ; 
 he mourns, and, like Ahab, awhile walks softly 
 at the remembrance of the justice of the hand 
 of God upon him. ^nd now he renews his 
 promises : l Lord, try me this one time more ; 
 take off thy hand and see ; they go far that 
 never turn.' Well, God spareth him again ; 
 sets down his axe again. . . . But, alas ! there 
 is yet no fruit on this fig-tree. 
 
 "Well, now the axe begins to be heaved 
 higher, for now indeed God is ready to smite 
 the sinner. Yet before he will strike the stroke, 
 he will try one way more at last, and if that 
 misseth, down goes the fig-tree. Now this way 
 is to tug and strive with this professor by his 
 Spirit. . . . But behold, the mischief now lies 
 17 
 
258 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 here, — there is tugging on both sides. The 
 Spirit convinces ; the man turns a deaf ear to 
 God. The Spirit saith, ' Receive my instruc- 
 tion and live;' but the man pulls away his 
 shoulder. The Spirit shows him whither he 
 is going ; but the man closeth his eyes against 
 it. The Spirit offereth violence, but the man 
 strives and resists. The Spirit parleyeth the 
 second time, and urgeth reasons of a new na- 
 ture ; but the sinner answereth, ' No, I have 
 loved strangers, and after them I will go.' At 
 this God's fury comes up into his face ; now he 
 comes out of his holy place, and is terrible ; 
 now he sweareth in his wrath, they shall never 
 enter into his rest. ' I exercised toward you my 
 patience, yet you have not turned unto me,' 
 saith the Lord ; ' I smote you in your person, 
 in your relations, in your estate, yet you have 
 not returned unto me. In thy filthiness is lewd- 
 ness, because I have purged thee, and thou wast 
 not purged ; thou shalt not be purged any more 
 till I cause my fury to rest upon thee : ' Cut it 
 down ; why doth it cumber the ground?'" 
 
 Sermons in this style, delivered with the 
 energy and holy fervour which characterized 
 Bunyan's preaching, could not fail to tell upon 
 the hearts and consciences of his hearers, and 
 fully account for the popularity and success of 
 
4t 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 259 
 
 his ministry, especially as his teaching was 
 enforced by the example of a holy life ; for 
 
 " He in the pulpit preach'd truth first, and then 
 He in his practice preach'd it o'er again." 
 
 When his new meeting-house was built, we 
 are told that " the first time he appeared there 
 to edify, the place was so thronged that many 
 were constrained to stay without, though the 
 house was very spacious, every one striving to 
 partake of his instructions, that were of his 
 persuasion, and show their good will toward 
 him by being present at the opening of the 
 place." — Doe's Continuation. 
 
 " He was also very useful as an elder or pas- 
 tor : first by his example, he being full of zeal 
 and affection at all times, according to know- 
 ledge ; more especially at the administration of 
 the Lord's supper, it was observable that tears 
 flowed from his eyes in abundance, from his 
 sense of the sufferings of Christ, that are in that 
 ordinance shadowed forth. He was useful also 
 by the accuracy of his knowledge of church dis- 
 cipline, and readiness to put that into practice 
 in the church, as occasion offered, which he 
 saw was agreeable to the word of God, whether 
 admonition, or edification, or making up of dif- 
 ferences, or filling up vacancies, or paring off 
 excrescences. . . . When he saw cause of re- 
 
260 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 proof, he did not spare for outward circum- 
 stances, whether in the pulpit or not ; and was 
 ready to administer comfort and succour to the 
 tempted. A s son of consolation' to the broken 
 hearted and afflicted, yet a 'son of thunder' to 
 secure and dead sinners."* 
 
 " He took great care to visit the sick, and 
 strengthen them against the suggestions of the 
 tempter, which at such times are very preva- 
 lent ; so that they had cause for ever to bless 
 God, who had put it into his head at such a 
 time to rescue them from the power of the roar- 
 ing lion who sought to devour them. 
 
 " He managed his affairs with such exact- 
 ness as if he had made it his study, above all 
 other things, not to give occasion of offence, but 
 rather to suffer many inconveniences to avoid 
 it ; being never heard to reproach or revile any, 
 what injury soever he received, but rather to 
 rebuke those that did. 
 
 " In his own family he kept very strict dis- 
 cipline, in prayer and exhortation ; being in 
 this, like Joshua, resolved that whatsoever others 
 
 * Chandler and Wilson, in the introduction to their 
 edition of his works. The former was Bunyan's succes- 
 sor in the pastorate at Bedford ; Wilson was a member 
 of Bunyan's church, from which he was sent out to 
 take the oversight of a neighbouring Baptist Church. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 261 
 
 did, as for him and his house, he would serve 
 the Lord." — Doe's Continuation. 
 
 His devotedness as a preacher and pastor, 
 his singleness of heart, and the disinterested 
 zeal with which he laboured to promote their 
 best interests, justly endeared him to the mem- 
 bers of his flock. " It is delightful," observes 
 Mr. Philip, "to read the respectful and affec- 
 tionate terms in which Bunyan is mentioned in 
 the minutes of the church meetings." 
 
 He was sometimes encountered by scholars, 
 who came to oppose him, thinking him an igno- 
 rant man. He once "nonplused" a Cambridge 
 student, who, overtaking him on the road, asked 
 how he " dared to preach," being an unlearned 
 man, and not having the original Scriptures ? 
 "Have you the original?" returned Bunyan. 
 " Yes," replied the scholar. " Nay, but have 
 you the very self-same copies that were writ- 
 ten by the penmen of them ? " " No, but we 
 have true copies of them." " How do you know 
 that?" "How," said the scholar, "why we be- 
 lieve what we have is a true copy of the origi- 
 nal." " Then," replied Bunyan, " so do I be- 
 lieve our English Bible to be a true copy of the 
 original." So away rode the scholar, adds Mr. 
 Doe, who gives the relation. 
 
 As it may appear strange to some, that while 
 
262 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 such severe laws were fn force against all dis- 
 senters from the state Church, Bunyan should 
 now be allowed to exercise his ministry appa- 
 rently without molestation, it may be well to 
 remark, that it was seldom that persecution 
 raged in all parts of the country at the same 
 time ; that in most places the force of public 
 opinion was against those laws ; and that their 
 enforcement in any place depended much on 
 the character of the established clergy, and the 
 magistracy in the neighbourhood. Occasional- 
 ly, too, the dominant party were influenced, by 
 motives of policy, to relax somewhat of their 
 high-handed rigour. 
 
I.TFE OF JOHN' BUNYAN. 263 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PUBLICATION OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS : 
 NOTICES OF THAT WORK. 
 
 Notwithstanding his almost unremitting la- 
 bours as a preacher, a pastor, and an evangel- 
 ist, Bunyan still found means to devote some 
 time to the productions of his pen. In 1675 
 he published a treatise on " Election and Re- 
 probation ; " a work on redemption by Christ, 
 entitled, " Light for them that sit in Darkness ;" 
 " Instruction for the Ignorant," being a plain 
 exposition of the leading principles of our holy 
 religion, in the form of questions and answers ; 
 and " Christian Behaviour, being the Fruits of 
 True Christianity." In the latter work, which 
 is in the form of a discourse on Titus iii, 7, 8, 
 he not only shows the duty of Christians in 
 general to be " careful to maintain good works," 
 but also directs them in their several relations as 
 "husbands, wives, parents, children, masters, ser- 
 vants, &c, how to walk so as to please God." 
 In the following year he published "A Discourse 
 on the Grace of God;" and another entitled, "The 
 Strait Gate ; or the great Difficulty of going to 
 Heaven," a discourse on Matt, vii, 13, 14. 
 
264 LIFE OF JOHN BUN1AN. 
 
 It is not improbable that the substance of 
 some of the above works was written during his 
 imprisonment, as the first part of the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress" is well known to have been, though 
 it was not published until 1677. This wonder- 
 ful production of genius was written by its au- 
 thor to solace the hours of his confinement, and 
 without any reference to its future publication. 
 The idea of the work suddenly occurred to his 
 mind, or, to use one of his own expressions, 
 " bolted in upon him," while he was occupied 
 in the preparation of another book : but the story 
 is best told in the following extract from " The 
 Author's Apology for his Book :" — 
 
 " When at the first I took my pen in hand, 
 Thus for to write, I did not understand 
 That I at all should make a little book 
 In such a mode ; nay, I had undertook 
 To make another, which, when almost done, 
 Before I was aware, I this begun. 
 
 " And thus it was : I, writing of the way 
 And race of saints in this our gospel day, 
 Fell suddenly into an allegory 
 About their journey, and the way to glory, 
 In more than twenty things, which I set down ; 
 This done, I twenty more had in my crown ; 
 And they again began to multiply 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
 Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 265 
 
 Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out 
 The book that I already am about. 
 
 " Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think 
 To show to all the world my pen and ink 
 In such a mode ; I only thought to make 
 I knew not what ; nor did I undertake 
 Thereby to please my neighbour; no, not I; 
 I did it mine own self to gratify. 
 
 " Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
 In this my scribble ; nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself, in doing this, 
 From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. 
 
 " Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
 And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 
 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 bigness which you see." 
 
 After he had completed his allegory, he 
 showed it to some of his friends, to get their 
 judgment respecting its publication ; but he 
 found much diversity of opinion among them 
 on that point. 
 
 " Some said, « John, print it ;' others said, * Not so :' 
 Some said, ' It might do good ;' others said, * No.' 
 Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
 What was the best thing to be done by me. 
 At last I thought, since you are thus divided, 
 I print it will, and so the case decided : 
 
266 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 For, thought I, some I see would have it done, 
 Though others in that channel do not run ; 
 To prove, then, who advised for the best, 
 Thus I thought fit to put it to the test." 
 
 It is not unlikely that the conflicting opinions 
 of those whom he consulted in reference to its 
 publication were the principal cause of Bunyan's 
 keeping the manuscript so long before he sent 
 it to the press. 
 
 Such then was the origin of the Pilgrim's 
 Progress, a book which, though written by an 
 unlettered man, and under the most discourag- 
 ing circumstances, has exercised, and continues 
 to exercise, "more influence over minds of every 
 class, than the most refined and sublime genius, 
 with all the advantages of education and good 
 fortune, has been able to rival, in this respect, 
 since its publication. Indeed, it would be diffi- 
 cult to name another work of any kind, in our 
 native tongue, of which so many editions have 
 been printed ; of which so many readers have 
 lived and died, the character of whose lives and 
 deaths must have been more or less affected 
 by its lessons and examples, its fictions and 
 realities."* 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress is not purely either 
 
 an allegory or a narrative, but a pleasing mix- 
 
 * Montgomery's Introd. Essay to the Pilgrim's Progress. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 267 
 
 ture of both, " under the similitude of a dream."* 
 Christian, the hero of the story, journeys from 
 the City of Destruction to the heavenly country, 
 and as we follow with unwearied interest his 
 various adventures from " the Slough of De- 
 spond, from which he could not get out by rea- 
 son of the burden which was upon his back," to 
 the river of Death, where Hopeful says to him, 
 11 Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bot- 
 tom, and it is good," we find portrayed in a 
 most life-like manner the difficulties and dis- 
 tresses, the helps, consolations, and encourage- 
 ments which every disciple is like to meet with 
 in the course of his Christian pilgrimage. "It 
 describes every stage of the believer's experi- 
 ence, from conversion to glorification, in the 
 most artless simplicity of language ; yet pecu- 
 liarly rich with spiritual unction, and glowing 
 with the most vivid, just, and well-conducted 
 
 * It is observed in Mr. Oldys's MSS. that the Pilgrim's 
 Progress was so acceptable to the common people, by- 
 reason of the amusing and parabolic manner of its com- 
 posure, by way of vision, a method he was thought to 
 have such an extraordinary knack in, that some thought 
 there were communications made to him in dreams, and 
 that he first really dreampt over the matter contained in 
 such of his writings. This notion was not a little propa- 
 gated by his picture before some of those books, which 
 is represented in a sleeping posture.-— •Zftog". Brit, 
 
268 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 machinery throughout. It is, in short, a mas- 
 ter-piece of piety and genius ; and will, we 
 doubt not, be of standing use to the people of 
 God so long as the sun and moon endure." 
 
 Bunyan evidently had his own religious ex- 
 perience in his mind while penning the progress 
 of his Pilgrim. Indeed he says, in one of his 
 rhyming prefaces, — 
 
 " It came from mine own heart, so to my head," &c. 
 
 This fact will appear also by a comparison of 
 some passages from his Pilgrim, with others 
 from his Grace Abounding. 
 
 pilgrim's progress. 
 
 " And as he read he wept 
 and trembled ; and not be- 
 ing able longer to contain, 
 he brake out with a lament, 
 able cry, saying, 'What 
 shall I do?'" 
 
 " Now I saw in my dream 
 that they drew nigh to a 
 very miry slough ; and they, 
 being heedless, did both fall 
 suddenly into the bog. Here 
 therefore they wallowed for 
 a time, being grievously 
 bedaubed with dirt," &c. 
 
 " Hopeful. I did not see 
 him with my bodily eyes, 
 
 GRACE ABOUNDING. 
 
 " Then breaking out in 
 the bitterness of my soul, 
 I said to my soul, with a 
 grievous sigh, 'How can 
 God comfort such a wretch 
 as I am ?' " 
 
 " O how cautiously did I 
 then go, in all I said or did ! 
 I found myself in a miry 
 bog, that shook if I did but 
 stir, and was as there left 
 both of God and Christ, and 
 the Spirit, and all good 
 things." 
 
 " One day, when I was 
 in a meeting house of God's 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 269 
 
 but with the eyes of my 
 understanding. And thus 
 it was : One day I was very 
 sad, I think sadder than at 
 any one time in my life ; 
 and this sadness was 
 through a fresh sight of 
 the greatness and vileness 
 of my sins. And as I was 
 looking for nothing but hell 
 and the everlasting damna- 
 tion of my soul, suddenly, 
 as I thought, I saw the 
 Lord Jesus look down from 
 heaven upon me, and say- 
 ing, 'Believe on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and thou shalt 
 be saved.' But I replied, 
 4 Lord, I am a great, a very 
 great sinner;' and he an- 
 swered, ' My grace is suf- me." 
 ficient for thee! " 
 
 See also pages 14 and 68 of the present work. 
 
 Of the first edition of the Pilgrim, which was 
 "Printed for Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in 
 the Poultrey near Cornhill 1678," only one copy 
 is known to be in existence. It is a volume of 
 two hundred and fifty three pages, and was pub- 
 lished at Is. 6d. The author afterward greatly 
 enlarged and improved the work, as appears by 
 a comparison of this with the subsequent edi- 
 
 people, full of sadness and 
 terror, for my fears again 
 were strong upon me, and 
 as I was now thinking my 
 soul was never the better, 
 but my case most sad and 
 fearful, these words did with 
 great power suddenly break 
 in upon me, three times to- 
 gether, 4 My grace is suffi- 
 cient for tliee^ my grace is 
 sufficient for thee, my grace 
 is sufficient for thee ; at 
 which time my understand, 
 ing was so enlightened, 
 that I was as though I had 
 seen the Lord Jesus look 
 down from heaven, through 
 the tiles, upon me, and 
 direct these words unto 
 
270 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 tions. Among the additions which he made, 
 are the accounts of Mr. Worldly Wiseman, Mr. 
 By-ends, and Mrs. Diffidence, the wife of Giant 
 Despair, who are not mentioned in the original 
 publication. 
 
 The second edition, which contained two hun- 
 dred and seventy-six pages, was published in 
 the same year as the first. There is a copy of 
 this edition in the British Museum, which has 
 bound up with it the old Memoir we have alrea- 
 dy refered to, entitled, "An Account of Bunyan's 
 Life and Actions, with his Elegy," printed in 
 1692, and occupying forty-four pages. 
 
 To the third edition was prefixed a frontis- 
 piece, containing in the foreground a represen- 
 tation of " the author dreaming," with a lion 
 reposing in a den beneath; while in the back- 
 ground is seen the pilgrim, " with a book in his 
 hand, and a great burden on his back," wending 
 his way from the City of Destruction to the 
 " wicket-gate." 
 
 Two editions, the fourth and the Jifth, were 
 published in 1680. The latter, in addition to the 
 frontispiece, contained a wood-cut of Faithful's 
 martyrdom ; and on the back of the frontispiece 
 was the following notice: — "The Pilgrim's 
 Progress having found good acceptation among 
 the people, to the carrying off the fourth im- 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 271 
 
 pression, which had many additions, more than 
 any preceding : and the publisher, observing 
 that many persons desired to have it illustrated 
 with Pictures, hath endeavoured to gratifie them 
 therein : and besides those that are ordinarily 
 printed to the fifth impression, hath provided 
 Thirteen Copper-cuts, curiously engraven, for 
 such as desire them." 
 
 The eighth edition, published in 1682, and the 
 ninth in 1683, had three wood-cuts. On the title 
 page of the tenth edition, in 1684, the author's 
 name is spelled Bvnian. No additions were 
 made to the work after the eighth edition. 
 
 All that is said above, it must be remembered, 
 refers to the First Part of Bunyan's great work. 
 In the lines at the close of that he hints at the 
 possibility of his dreaming " yet another dream." 
 It was this probably, in connection with the 
 great popularity of the Pilgrim, that induced 
 some dishonest imitators to endeavour to palm 
 off their own trash as the genuine productions 
 of Bunyan, who says, — 
 
 " Some have of late to counterfeit 
 
 My Pilgrim, to their own my title set ; 
 Yea, others, half my namet and title too, 
 Have stitch'd to their books, to make them do." 
 
 Of these imitations Dr. Southey says, " Only 
 one of them has fallen in my way — for it is by 
 
272 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 accident only that books of this perishable kind, 
 which have no merit of their own to preserve 
 them, are to be met with : and this, though enti- 
 tled the ' Second Part of the Pilgrim's Progress,' 
 has no other relation to the first than its title, 
 which was probably a trick of the publishers." 
 
 In 1684 Bunyan published the Second Part 
 of his Pilgrim, " wherein is set forth the man- 
 ner of the setting out of Christian's wife and 
 children ; their dangerous journey, and safe 
 arrival at the desired country." On the back of 
 the title-page appeared the following notice : — 
 "I appoint Mr. Nathaniel Ponder, but no other, to 
 print this book, John Bunyan, January 1, 1684." 
 
 If the Second Part does not excite so intense 
 an interest as the First, it is not less delightful. 
 It is even richer in incident ; and the author has 
 shown the fertility of his invention in the no- 
 velty which he has thrown in this second jour- 
 ney. There is also a pleasure in travelling 
 with another company over the same ground ; 
 a pleasure arising from the combined effect of 
 reminiscence and contrast, and which is infe- 
 rior neither in kind nor degree to that which is 
 derived from a first impression. The author 
 evidently felt this, and we are indebted to it for 
 some beautiful passages of repose.* Such, for 
 * Conder's Life of Bunyan. Southey's do. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUXYAN. 273 
 
 instance, is the description of the Valley of Hu- 
 miliation : " Though nothing can be more quiet 
 and unobtruding, there is a sacredness and so- 
 lemnity of contemplative feeling awakened, 
 which makes the reader tread as on holy ground. 
 The repose and sweetness of the scene, the 
 shepherd's boy and his song, the allusion to our 
 Lord himself having formerly (when he was a 
 pilgrim on earth) loved much to be there — all 
 these touching associations, while they soothe 
 and tranquillize the soul, fit it for prayer, medi- 
 tation, and such discourse as Christiana and her 
 company held in passing through the valley. 
 The guide's exposition of Christian's terrible 
 encounter with Apollyon is an admirable com- 
 mentary on that mysterious passage. Nothing 
 can be more essentially poetic than this stage 
 of Christiana's journey. That our author's tem- 
 perament was constitutionally poetical, innu- 
 merable passages in all his writings prove, 
 where the most felicitous phrases, the loftiest 
 conceptions, and the most splendid metaphors, 
 (unconsciously to himself,) flash out amidst the 
 ordinary matter of his prose ; yet whenever he 
 attempts verse, — fire, fancy, feeling, all forsake 
 him ; and throughout his numerous metrical 
 compositions there will scarcely be found a 
 hundred lines that deserve the name of poetry. 
 18 
 
274 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 His best production of this kind is the song, put 
 intothe mouth ofValiant-for-the-trutn toward the 
 close of this Second Part, having the burden — 
 
 * To be a pilgrim.' 
 
 " There is an extraordinary variety of charac- 
 ters brought into appropriate action, and ex- 
 posed to peculiar suffering, in this section of 
 the Pilgrim's Progress. ... In the pilgrimage 
 of Christian and his successive companions, 
 Faithful and Hopeful, he portrayed personal and 
 solitary experience, or only bosom-fellowship 
 between believers. In the journey of Christiana 
 and her family, gradually increasing to a goodly 
 troop, he seems to have had more in view to 
 illustrate the communion of saints and the ad- 
 vantages of church membership. Though each 
 individual is strikingly dissimilar from all the 
 rest, they harmoniously agree to walk by the 
 same rule, and mind the same thing. It is de- 
 lightful to travel in such a company, and hear 
 them not only tell their several histories, but 
 discourse of the adventures of others who have 
 gone before ; so that to the last stage in the 
 enchanted ground, when they find Stand-fast on 
 his knees, there is a perpetual change of capti- 
 vating anecdote and biography." — Montgomery. 
 
 No additions or alterations were made in the 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 275 
 
 Second Part, though the author lived more than 
 four years after its publication. 
 
 Before the Second Part made its appearance, 
 the First had not only acquired an extensive cir- 
 culation in Great Britain, and in the colony of 
 New-England, (whither it was carried by the 
 Puritan emigrants,) but had also been translated 
 into French and Dutch. To these facts the 
 author refers with honest gratification in the in- 
 troduction to the Second Part : — 
 
 "In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is esteem'd a friend, a brother. 
 In Holland, too, 'tis said, as I am told, 
 My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold. 
 Highlanders and wild Irish can agree 
 My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 
 'Tis in New-England under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving countenance, 
 As to be trimm'd, new clothed, and deck'd with gems, 
 That it might show its features and its limbs. 
 Yet more ; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, 
 That of him thousands daily sing and talk. 
 The very children that do walk the street, 
 If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet, 
 Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
 He is the only stripling of the day." 
 
 From the closing paragraphs of the Second 
 Part, it seems that the author contemplated a 
 third, which should give a further account of 
 
276 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the pilgrimage of Christiana's children ; but this 
 never appeared. An anonymous work, called 
 the Third Part of the Pilgrim's Progress, and 
 containing the adventures of one Tender Con- 
 science, was published in 1693, and has had the 
 honour to be inserted in some editions of Bun- 
 yan's matchless parable ; but this, though by 
 no means destitute of merit, is as inferior to 
 Bunyan as it is unlike him. The name of its 
 author is unknown. 
 
 Laboured attempts have been made to deprive 
 Bunyan of the credit of originality in his great 
 work, and various productions of former times 
 have been suggested as having furnished him 
 with the idea and general plan of his allegory ; 
 but a careful examination of these works has 
 shown that they are so dissimilar in character, 
 that Bunyan, if he ever saw them, (which respect- 
 ing some is more than doubtful,) could have 
 drawn from them little or nothing more than a 
 hint for the name of his book, — the words " pil- 
 grim," and " pilgrimage," occurring in the titles 
 of some of them ; even this it is much more like- 
 ly he drew from the Bible. See note on p. 333. 
 
 Even in his own day there were not wanting 
 those whose envy of his merits, or contempt of 
 his abilities, prompted them to charge him with 
 plagiarism — an imputation which he indignantly 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 277 
 
 repels in the homely rhymes prefixed to his 
 Holy War. 
 
 " Some say the Pilgrim's Progress is not mine, 
 Insinuating as if I would shine 
 In name and fame by the worth of another, 
 Like some made rich by robbing of their brother ; 
 
 Or that if need require, 
 
 I'll tell a lie in print to get applause. 
 
 I scorn it : John such dirt-heap never was. 
 
 Since God converted him." 
 
 " It came from mine own heart, so to my head, 
 And thence into my fingers trickled ; 
 Then to my pen," &c. 
 
 " Manner and matter too were all mine own ; 
 Nor was it unto any mortal known 
 Till I had done it ; nor did any then 
 By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, 
 Add five words to it, or write half a line 
 Thereof: the whole and every whit is mine." 
 
 The fifteenth edition of the complete work, 
 containing both parts, was published in 1702; 
 the nineteenth, " with the addition of new 
 cuts," was * Printed for N. Boddington, at the 
 Golden Ball, in Duck Lane, 1718." In 1767, 
 ninety years after its first publication, it had 
 passed through fifty-four editions. 
 
 It is believed there is no European language 
 into which this work has not been translated. 
 It was early printed even in Popish countries, 
 an honour which we presume the author little 
 
278 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 anticipated I* in those editions the scene of 
 "Giant Pope" is of course omitted. The fol- 
 lowing, among others, are found in the cata- 
 logue of the British Museum : — ■ 
 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Arab. 8° Malta 1830. 
 Idem Gall. 8 ? Rotterd. 1 722. 
 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress in the Malagassie, or Mad- 
 agascar language 16? London, 1838. 
 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Romaic, fj.eTa<ppaadei(ja, 
 napa 2.2. pihcuvog. 8? Melita, 1824. 
 
 It was printed in Portuguese in 1722. A late 
 number of the Baptist Advocate, (July 13, 1843,) 
 a weekly periodical, published in New-York, 
 states, that it " is now being translated into the 
 Hebrew language, for the benefit of the Jews." 
 It has also been translated into the Armenian 
 language. 
 
 It is not known when the Pilgrim's Progress 
 was first reprinted in America. Doe, writing 
 in 1691, only three years after Bunyan's death, 
 tells us it had then been printed in New-Eng- 
 land.f A writer in the Christian Review, (vol. 
 
 * It is said that a copy of it, in elegant binding, is pre- 
 served in the Vatican at Rome. — Ivimey. 
 
 t He says, it " hath been printed in France, Holland, 
 New-England, and in Welsh; and about a hundred 
 thousand in England." — Life of Bunyan. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 279 
 
 iv, p. 418,) says, "The earliest American edi- 
 tion we have seen is the sixteenth, and is now 
 nearly a century old. It was ' Printed by John 
 Draper for Charles Harrison over against 
 the Brazen Head in Cornhil Boston N. E. 
 M,DCCXLIV.' It is adorned with wood-cuts, 
 which, though rude, are expressive." A writer 
 in the Boston Weekly Magazine says he has 
 examined the seventeenth edition, printed and 
 published in the same year, and by the same 
 persons. He has also seen a copy of the fifty- 
 seventh edition, dated only about twenty or 
 twenty-five years later than the above, and some 
 time before the revolution. 
 
 Perhaps no other uninspired book has been 
 so universally popular as the Pilgrim's Progress. 
 The rich vein of native good sense and sober 
 pleasantry that runs through it, recommends it 
 to all orders of readers, and it is read by almost 
 everybody who reads anything. " It commands 
 the admiration of the most fastidious critic, 
 though he may have no sympathy with either 
 its design or spirit ; and it is loved by those 
 who are too simple to admire it. It is equally 
 a favourite with young and old : children peruse 
 it with wonder and delight ; and their interest 
 in its pages only increases with advancing 
 years." " The very things which are « milk for 
 
280 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN\ 
 
 babes,' are actually ' strong meat' to the same 
 persons when they become men. What is ad- 
 mired as history in childhood, is admired as 
 mystery in youth : what is admired as ingenuity 
 in manhood, is loved as experience in old age. 
 ... In childhood we sit, as it were, on Chris- 
 tian's knee, listening to the tale of his 
 
 * Hair-breadth escapes. 
 By flood and field/ 
 
 In youth we join him upon his perilous journey, 
 to obtain directions for our own intended pil- 
 grimage in the narrow way. Before manhood 
 is matured, we know experimentally that the 
 Slough of Despond and Doubting Castle are no 
 fictions. And even in old age, Christians are 
 more than ever convinced of the heights, and 
 depths, and breadths, and lengths of Bunyan's 
 spiritual wisdom. The faltering tongue of de- 
 crepitude utters, as sage maxims, the very 
 things it had lisped as amusing narrative ; and 
 we gravely utter, as counsel to the young, what 
 we prattled, as curious, to our parents." — Philip. 
 Nor is it possible to conceive a time when it 
 shall cease to be popular. " Amidst all changes 
 of time, and style, and modes of thinking, it has 
 maintained its place in the popular literature of 
 every succeeding age, . . . and it stands among 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 281 
 
 the perished and perishing intellectual labours 
 of man, in generations past, as one of the few 
 that may now be pronounced imperishable."* 
 Yes, " that wonderful vision which Bunyan 
 saw — brighter than any other but that seen by 
 him of Patmos — shall be the wonder and delight 
 of lisping infancy, and the joy of hoary age, till 
 the pilgrims all reach the celestial city."f 
 
 It has been so much the fashion for witlings 
 to decry Bunyan's style as coarse and vulgar, 
 that we cannot refrain from giving, in addition 
 to what has already been said on that sub- 
 ject, the following remarks from an article in 
 the " Edinburgh Review," written by T. B. 
 Macauley, Esq. : — " The style of Bunyan is 
 delightful to every reader, and invaluable as a 
 study to every person who wishes to obtain a 
 wide command over the English language. The 
 vocabulary is the vocabulary of the common 
 people. There is not an expression, if we ex- 
 cept a few technical terms of theology, which 
 would puzzle the modest peasant. We have 
 observed several pages which do not contain 
 a single word of more than two syllables. Yet 
 no writer has said more exactly what he meant 
 to say. For magnificence, for pathos, for vehe- 
 
 * Montgomery's Essay. t Rev. Dr. Bacon. 
 
2S2 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 ment exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for 
 every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the 
 divine, this homely dialect — the dialect of plain 
 working men — was perfectly sufficient. There 
 is no book in our literature on which we would 
 so readily stake the fame of the unpolluted Eng- 
 lish language : no book which shows so well 
 how rich that language is in its own proper 
 wealth, and how little it has been improved by 
 all that it has borrowed." 
 
 The same writer observes, — " Cowper said, 
 forty or fifty years ago, that he dared not name 
 John Bunyan in his verse, for fear of moving a 
 sneer. . . . We live in better times ; and we are 
 not afraid to say, that though there were many 
 clever men in England during the latter half of 
 the seventeenth century, there were only two 
 great creative minds. One of these minds pro- 
 duced the Paradise Lost, the other the Pilgrim's 
 Progress." 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BT7NYAN. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CALUMNIOUS REPORT I PUBLICATION OF THE 
 HOLY WAR, LIFE OF BADMAN, ETC. 
 
 A desire not to interrupt trie account of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress has occasioned a departure 
 from the strict chronological order of our narra- 
 tive ; we must now therefore go back a little to 
 the circumstances that intervened between the 
 publication of the First and Second Parts of that 
 work. During that period (about 1678) an at- 
 tempt was made to implicate Bunyan in a charge 
 of seduction and murder. A full account of the 
 affair was written by the person chiefly inte- 
 rested, Agnes Beaumont, the daughter of a 
 farmer, near Bedford, who was bitterly preju- 
 diced against Bunyan. The facts of the case 
 are briefly these. This young woman, who 
 was a member of Bunyan's church, had, on a 
 certain occasion, a great desire to attend a 
 church meeting at a place called Gamlingay. 
 " About a week before it," she says, " I was 
 much in prayer, especially for two things : the 
 one, that the Lord would incline the heart of 
 my father to let me go, which he sometimes 
 refused ; . . . . the other, that the Lord would 
 
284 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 go with me, and that I might enjoy his presence 
 there at his table." Her father, though at first 
 unwilling, at length gave her permission, and a 
 Mr. Wilson was to call and take her on his 
 horse behind him. He not calling, she was 
 sadly disappointed, and feared she should lose 
 the opportunity of going, when Mr. Bunyan 
 unexpectedly came along. Her brother asked 
 him to take Agnes with him, which he at first 
 refused to do ; but being urged, he at length 
 consented. 
 
 When her father heard that she had gone 
 with Bunyan, he was greatly enraged, and 
 started to overtake them, intending to pull his 
 daughter off the horse ; but they were then 
 beyond his reach. 
 
 " I had not rode far," says Miss Beaumont, 
 "before my heart began to be lifted up with 
 pride at the thoughts of riding behind this ser- 
 vant of the Lord, and was pleased if any looked 
 after us as we rode along. . . . My pride soon 
 had a fall ; for in entering Gamlingay we were 
 met by one Mr. Lane, a clergyman who lived 
 at Bedford, and knew us both, and spoke to us, 
 but looked very hard at us as we rode along ; 
 and soon after raised a vile scandal upon us, 
 though, blessed be God, it was false." 
 
 When she returned from the meeting, (which, 
 
MFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 285 
 
 she says, the Lord made a sweet season to her 
 soul,) she found the house locked against her, 
 and her father refused to let her in. Finding it 
 impossible to gain admission, she went to the 
 barn, and continued there all night in prayer, 
 though it was in the midst of winter. In the 
 morning, when her father came to the barn, she 
 entreated him to let her go into the house ; but 
 he declared she should never enter it again, 
 unless she promised not to go to meeting again 
 as long as he lived. She followed him about 
 the yard for some time, begging him to relent ; 
 but to no purpose, for his anger was only in- 
 creased. She then went to the house of her 
 brother, who resided within a short distance. 
 This was on Saturday. In the course of that 
 and the following day she went (accompanied 
 either by her brother or sisters) two or three 
 times to her father, but met with no better suc- 
 cess. At length, on Sunday evening she pro- 
 mised her father not to go to a meeting again 
 without his consent, on which he gave her the 
 key, and she went into the house, and the old 
 man appeared perfectly reconciled and cheerful. 
 On Tuesday night she was awaked by a 
 doleful noise proceeding from her father's room. 
 She called to him, asking him if he was not 
 well. He answered, " No ; I was struck with 
 
286 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 a pain in my heart, in my sleep ; and I shall 
 die presently." Going into the room, she found 
 him sitting upright in his bed, crying to God 
 for mercy. She immediately kindled a fire, 
 and got something warm for him to drink, hop- 
 ing it would relieve him ; but his trying to drink 
 brought on a violent retching ; he changed black 
 in the face, and soon after fell on the ground, 
 apparently dead. His daughter, greatly alarm- 
 ed, ran barefooted through the snow to her 
 brother's house, and told him that her father 
 was dead. He, with two of his men, went to 
 his father's, and found him still alive, but una- 
 ble to speak, except a word or two ; and in a 
 short time he died. 
 
 The next day a lawyer, named Farry, set 
 about a report that the old man had been poi- 
 soned by his daughter, and that Bunyan had 
 furnished her with the stuff to do it with. Upon 
 this a surgeon was called to examine the body, 
 and an inquest held, when it plainly appeared 
 that the man had died a natural death; and 
 Farry having nothing to offer in support of his 
 charge, was sharply rebuked by the coroner for 
 thus publicly defaming the character of an inno- 
 cent female. He, however, afterward revived 
 the calumny at various times ; once giving out 
 that she had herself confessed the crime, and 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 287 
 
 was quite distracted ; and at another time that 
 Bwiyan had advised her to poison her Father 
 that he might marry her, and that the plot was 
 agreed on as they rode to Gamlingay. " This 
 last report," she says, " rather occasioned mirth 
 than mourning, because Mr. Bunyan, at the 
 same time, had a good wife living." 
 
 The cause of Farry's malignity was this : — 
 He had, three years before, privately marked 
 out Miss Beaumont for his wife ; and having 
 this in view, had persuaded her father, in mak- 
 ing his will, to leave the bulk of his property to 
 Agnes. But her piety defeated his purpose. 
 She would not have him because he was un- 
 godly ; and he sought to avenge himself in the 
 manner already stated.* 
 
 In 1678 Bunyan published a discourse enti- 
 tled, " Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ," 
 founded on John vi, 37; and another in the fol- 
 lowing year on "The Fear of God." 
 
 His next publication* which appeared in 1682, 
 was " The Holy War, made by Shaddai upon 
 Diabolus, for the regaining of the Metropolis 
 
 * Miss Beaumont became a member of Bunyan's 
 church in 1672, and died in 1720, aged sixty-eight years, 
 as appears from a tablet erected to her memory in the 
 Baptist chapel at Hitchin. Her own narrative is given 
 at considerable length in Philip's Life of Bunyan. 
 
288 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 of the World ; or the losing and taking again of 
 the Town of Mansoul." It is an extended alle- 
 gory, representing the ruin and recovery of man 
 by the revolt and recapture of a fortified town. 
 Compared with the Pilgrim's Progress, it may 
 be said to display more originality in its con- 
 ception, and at least equal skill in its execution; 
 but the subject is less pleasing to the reader, 
 and it wants the simplicity and intense interest 
 which constitute the charm of the former work. 
 Had Bunyan written nothing else, this would 
 alone have immortalized his name ; but as it is, 
 " the dark and mysterious grandeur of the Holy 
 War has been outshone by the lively and more 
 refreshing glories of the Pilgrim, the popular- 
 ity of which is a disadvantage to its junior, the 
 world being unwilling to recognize an author 
 long deceased, by more than one great work, 
 when the favourite is of itself conspicuously 
 original." — Montgomery. 
 
 Bunyan's discourse on " the Barren Fig-tree" 
 appeared soon after his Holy War. Some pas- 
 sages from this work have been given in a 
 former chapter. In 1683 he published his dis- 
 courses on " the Greatness of the Soul," which 
 were preached at Pinner's Hall, in London. Of 
 these sermons Mr. Philip remarks, — " They 
 well account for the electrifying effect of his 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 289 
 
 ministry. It is impossible to read them with- 
 out exclaiming, ' Hell is open before him ; and 
 destruction without a covering ! ' I know of no- 
 thing so awful. He makes the reader hear ' the 
 sighs of the lost soul.' " 
 
 In the following year he gave to the world 
 the " Life and Death of Mr. Badman." In his 
 preface to this work he thus speaks of its origin 
 and design : — " As I was considering with my- 
 self what I had written concerning the progress 
 of the Pilgrim from this world to glory, and how 
 it hath been acceptable to many in this nation, 
 it came into my mind to write of the life and 
 death of the ungodly, and of their travel from 
 this world to hell. . . . Here, therefore, cour- 
 teous reader, I present thee with the Life and 
 Death of Mr. Badman ; yea, I do trace him in 
 his life, from his childhood to his death, that 
 thou mayest, as in a glass, behold with thine 
 own eyes the steps that take hold of hell ; and 
 also discern, while thou art reading of Mr. Bad- 
 man's death, whether thou thyself art treading 
 in his path thereto." 
 
 This work is not, like the Pilgrim and the 
 Holy War, an allegory ; but a fictitious narra- 
 tive, in the shape of a dialogue between Mr. 
 Wiseman and Mr. Attentive. The author adopt- 
 ed the dialogue form, as being more easy to 
 19 
 
290 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 himself, and more pleasant to the reader, than an 
 unbroken narrative. But although the book be 
 fictitious as the professed life of one individual, 
 it is not so as respects the incidents it relates ; 
 being, in fact, a grouping together of circum- 
 stances that had come under the author's own 
 observation. " To the best of my remembrance," 
 he remarks, "all the things that I here dis- 
 course of — I mean as to matters of fact — have 
 been acted upon the stage of the world even 
 many times before mine eyes." 
 
 His object in writing this book, he tells us, 
 was that he might do something to check the 
 flood of iniquity which threatened to inundate 
 the country. " It is the duty of those that can, 
 to cry out against this deadly plague ; yea, to 
 lift up their voice as with a trumpet against it, 
 that men may be awakened about it, fly from it, 
 as from that which is the greatest of evils. Sin 
 pulled angels out of heaven, pulls men down to 
 hell, and overthroweth kingdoms. Who that 
 sees an house on fire, will not give the alarm to 
 them that dwell therein ? Who that sees the 
 land invaded, will not set the beacons on a 
 flame 1 Who that sees the devils, as roaring 
 lions, continually devouring souls, will not make 
 an outcry 1 But above all, when we see sin, 
 sinful sin, swallowing up a nation, sinking a 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 291 
 
 nation, and bringing its inhabitants to temporal, 
 spiritual, and eternal ruin, shall we not cry out, 
 { They are drunk, but not with wine ; they stag- 
 ger, but not with strong drink ; ' they are intox- 
 icated with the deadly poison of sin, which will, 
 if its malignity be not by wholesome means 
 allayed, bring soul and body, and estate and 
 country, and all, to ruin and destruction. 
 
 " In and by this my outcry I shall deliver 
 myself from the ruins of them that perish ; for 
 a man can do no more in this matter — I mean 
 as man in my capacity — than to detect and con- 
 demn the wickedness, warn the evil-doer of the 
 judgment, and fly therefrom myself. But O, 
 that I might not only deliver myself! O that 
 many would hear and turn at this cry, from sin, 
 that they may be secured from death and judg- 
 ment that attend it ! " 
 
 Of the Life of Mr. Badman, Dr. Southey re- 
 marks, that if it is less read than some of Bun- 
 yan's more popular works, " it is because the 
 subject is less agreeable, not that it has been 
 treated with less ability." 
 
 We know not in what year Bunyan wrote his 
 " Divine Emblems ; or Temporal Things spi- 
 ritualized." These, though specified in the 
 title-page as being " fitted for boys and girls," 
 are chiefly designed for " children of a larger 
 
292 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 growth " than those who are usually thus desig- 
 nated. In the preface the author says, — 
 
 " We now have boys with beards, and girls that be 
 Huge as old women, wanting gravity. 
 Their antic tricks, fantastic modes and way, 
 Shew they like very boys and girls do play 
 With all the frantic fooleries of the age, 
 And that in open view, as on a stage : 
 Our bearded men do act like beardless boys ; 
 Our women please themselves with childish toys." 
 
 Preachers, he tells us, had failed to produce 
 any effect on these grown-up children, because 
 they addressed them as men and women, and 
 thus missed the mark by shooting too high : he 
 therefore aims to attract their attention to reli- 
 gious concerns by spiritualizing common things ; 
 and as the wise man had before sent his read- 
 ers to learn wisdom of the ant, so Bunyan here 
 endeavours to draw instruction from the spider, 
 the fly, the cuckoo, the snail, and the frog, and 
 from events and circumstances familiar to those 
 to whom his emblems were addressed. Some 
 parts of the work display much of that wit and 
 humour with which our author abounded.* The 
 
 * The only practical joke of Bunyan's I ever heard 
 of, was played off upon one of his friends, who was a 
 cooper. He saw, on passing his shop, some tubs piled 
 one above another, and threw them down. " How now, 
 master Bunyan," said the cooper, «« what harm do the tube 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 293 
 
 emblem of " The Cuckoo," where he speaks of 
 those who can do 
 
 " Little but suck our eggs and sing ' Cuckoo,' " 
 
 is evidently aimed at those of the state clergy, 
 who, though they failed to feed the people with 
 knowledge, were by no means negligent in ex- 
 acting their tithes. 
 
 As this work is much less known than some 
 of Bunyan's other productions, we give one or 
 two of its shorter articles as a specimen of its 
 style and character. 
 
 UPON THE BEGGAR. 
 He wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty, 
 They within doors to him an alms deny ; 
 He doth repeat and aggravate his grief, 
 But they repulse him, give him no relief. 
 He begs ; they say, Begone : he will not hear, 
 He coughs and sighs, to show he still is there. 
 They disregard him ; he repeats his groans : 
 They still say, Nay ; and he himself bemoans. 
 They call him vagrant, and more rugged grow ; 
 He cries the shriller, trumpets out his wo. 
 At last, when they perceive he'll take no nay, 
 An aims they give him without more delay. 
 
 COMPARISON. 
 
 This beggar doth resemble them that pray 
 To God for mercy, and will take no nay ; 
 
 to you ? " " Friend," said Bunyan, " have you not heard 
 that every tub should stand on its own bottom ? "—Philip. 
 
294 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 But wait, and count that all his hard gainsays 
 Are nothing else but fatherly delays. 
 Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry ; 
 There's nothing like to importunity. 
 
 OF THE BOY AND THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 " Behold how eager this our little boy 
 Is for this butterfly, as if all joy, 
 All profits, honours, yea, and lasting pleasures, 
 Were wrapt up in her, or the richest treasures 
 Found in her, would be bundled up together — 
 When all her all is lighter than a feather. 
 
 He halloos, runs, and cries out, Here, boys, here t 
 Nor doth he brambles or the nettles fear : 
 He stumbles at the mole-hills, up he gets, 
 And runs again, as if bereft of wits ; 
 And all his labour and this large outcry 
 Is only for a silly butterfly. 
 
 COMPARISON. 
 
 This little boy an emblem is of those 
 Whose hearts are wholly at the world's dispose. 
 The butterfly doth represent to me 
 The world's best things at best but fading be : 
 All are but painted nothings and false joys, 
 Like this poor butterfly to these our boys, 
 His running through the nettles, thorns, and briars, 
 To gratify his boyish fond desires ; 
 His tumbling over mole-hills to attain 
 His end, namely, his butterfly to gain, 
 Doth plainly shew what hazards some men run, 
 To get what will be lost as soon as won. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 295 
 
 Men seem in choice, than children far more wise 
 Because they run not after butterflies ; 
 When yet, alas ! for what are empty toys, 
 They follow children, like to beardless boys. 
 
 In 1684, Dr. Barlow, bishop of Lincoln, pub- 
 lished a letter, calling on his clergy to enforce 
 the laws against dissenters, in concurrence with 
 another to the same effect, drawn up by the 
 Bedfordshire justices. In consequence of this, 
 " many were cited unto the spiritual courts, ex- 
 communicated, and ruined." — Neal. 
 
 To comfort and encourage the victims of this 
 persecution, Bunyan wrote his "Advice to Suf- 
 ferers," which was published the same year. 
 He also " made it a part of his business to ex- 
 tend his charity to such as were taken and im- 
 prisoned, and gather relief for such of them as 
 wanted. . . . Those whose spirits began to sink, 
 he encouraged to suffer patiently for the sake 
 of a good conscience, and for the love of God 
 in Jesus Christ toward their souls, so that the 
 people found a wonderful consolation in his dis- 
 course and admonitions." — Doe. 
 
 Bunyan himself appears to have escaped mo- 
 lestation at this time. Doe says, " It pleased 
 God to preserve him out of the hands of his 
 enemies, in the severe persecution at the latter 
 end of the reign of Charles II., though they 
 
296 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 often searched and laid wait for him, and some- 
 times narrowly missed him." 
 
 There is still extant an original deed, (of 
 which Mr. Philip has given a fac-simile,) dated 
 December 23d, 1685, by which Bnnyan, "in 
 consideration of the natural affection and love" 
 he bore to his " well-beloved wife, Elizabeth 
 Bunyan, as also for divers other good causes and 
 considerations now at this present especially mov- 
 ing" transferred to her " all and singular his 
 goods, chattels, debts, ready money, plate, Rings, 
 household stuffe, Aparrel, utensills, Brass, pew- 
 ter, Beding, and all other his substance what- 
 soever." The making of this singular deed can 
 only be accounted for on the supposition that 
 he feared he might again become the victim of 
 intolerance, and wished in that case to save his 
 family from want, by securing his little property 
 for their use. The following is a fac-simile of 
 his signature, as appended to this document. 
 
 There is a tradition among the Baptists at 
 Reading that he sometimes went through that 
 town dressed like a carter, and with a long whip 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 297 
 
 in his hand, to avoid detection. Reading was a 
 place where Bunyan was well known. The 
 Baptist meeting house there was in a lane ; and 
 from a back door they had a bridge over a 
 branch of the river Kennet, whereby, in case 
 of alarm, they might escape. — Southey. 
 
 In 1687 James II. issued a declaration, an- 
 nulling all laws against nonconformity to the 
 Established Church. This he did, not out of 
 any regard to religious liberty, (he being a bi- 
 goted Romanist,) but solely for the purpose of 
 removing the restrictions against Popery, and 
 to pave the way for its re-establishment as the 
 national religion: that end accomplished, the 
 only religious liberty allowed his subjects would 
 have been the liberty to turn Papists. The 
 design of the king in this act of toleration was 
 covered with so thin a veil, that the dullest eyes 
 could scarce avoid seeing through it. Bunyan 
 perceiving the real object of the royal decla- 
 ration, and anticipating a speedy termination 
 of the indulgence which it granted, advised 
 his brethren to use the liberty that was allowed 
 them, while they might ; and " to avail them- 
 selves of the sunshine by diligent endeavours to 
 spread the gospel, and to prepare for an ap- 
 proaching storm by fasting and prayer." The 
 dreaded "storm" was, however, happily avert- 
 
298 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 ed, by the abdication of James II., and the ac- 
 cession of William III., which took place in 
 the following year. 
 
 For Popery and its abominations Bunyan 
 entertained a righteous abhorrence, which was 
 doubtless not a little increased by the study of 
 his favourite Book of Martyrs. " He hated the 
 scarlet lady most heartily, and hoped to see her 
 funeral before his death. ' She is now dying,' 
 he says ; therefore ' let us ring her passing-bell. 
 When she is dead, we who live to see it intend 
 to ring out /' Had she died before him, not all 
 his prejudices against bell-ringing, nor his old 
 fears of the beam in Elstow church tower, would 
 have prevented him from having another pull 
 at the ropes." — Philip. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 LAST YEAR OF BUNYAN'S LIFE ! HIS DYING 
 SAYINGS AND DEATH. 
 
 We are now rapidly approaching the close of 
 Bunyan's earthly pilgrimage, which terminated 
 in 1688. In the early part of that year he pub- 
 lished " The Jerusalem Sinner saved ; or good 
 news for the vilest of men : being an help to 
 despairing souls ; showing that Christ would 
 have mercy, in the first place, offered to the 
 biggest sinners." This is a discourse founded 
 
 OS 
 
 on that part of our Lord's commission to his 
 apostles, in which he directs that their first 
 publication of his gospel should be made in the 
 Jewish capital : — " Begin at Jerusalem" Luke 
 xxiv, 47. From these words he takes occasion 
 to show, that the fact of the first offer of mercy 
 being made to the sinners of Jerusalem, (who, 
 having put to death the Lord of glory, he justly 
 esteemed to be the worst of all sinners,) affords 
 encouragement to the vilest offenders to repent 
 and be saved. 
 
 This sermon appears to have been one of 
 Bunyan's favourites, and the effect produced at 
 various times by its delivery induced him to 
 
300 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 enlarge it, and commit it to the press. "I have 
 found, through God's grace," he says, "good 
 success in preaching upon this subject, and per- 
 haps so I may in writing upon it too. I have, 
 as you see, let down this net for a draught ; the 
 Lord catch some great fishes by it, for the mag- 
 nifying of his truth." The following are the 
 heads of the discourse : — 
 
 Christ will have mercy offered in the first 
 place to the biggest sinners : 
 
 1. Because the biggest sinners have most 
 need thereof. 
 
 2. Because when any of them receive it, it 
 redounds most to the fame of his name. 
 
 3. Because by their forgiveness and salva- 
 tion, others hearing of it will be encouraged the 
 more to come to him for life. 
 
 4. Because that is the way, if they receive it, 
 most to weaken the kingdom of Satan. The 
 biggest sinners are Satan's colonels and cap- 
 tains. 
 
 5. Because such, when converted, are usually 
 the best helps in the church against temptation, 
 and fittest for the support of the feeble-minded 
 there. 
 
 6. Because they, when converted, are apt to 
 love him most. 
 
 7. Because grace, when it is received by 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 301 
 
 such, finds matter to kindle upon more freely 
 than it finds in other sinners. Great sinners 
 are like the dry wood, or like great candles, 
 which burn the best, and give the biggest light. 
 
 8. Because by that means the impenitent 
 that are left behind will be at the judgment the 
 more left without excuse. 
 
 " The Jerusalem Sinner" was followed in rapid 
 succession by five other publications, the prin- 
 cipal of which was, " Solomon's Temple Spi- 
 ritualized ; or gospel light brought out of the 
 temple at Jerusalem." The author attempts to 
 show that everything in and about the temple, 
 its furniture, and its services — from the high 
 priest and the holy place, down to the golden 
 nails, the snuffers, and the spoons — were typi- 
 cal of something corresponding in the gospel 
 dispensation. In writing this book Bunyan did 
 but follow the fashion of the times, for this 
 practice of spiritualizing was popular in those 
 days, how little soever it may be esteemed now. 
 In the seventy sections or chapters of which 
 the work is composed, there is much good and 
 instructive matter ; but as a whole it exhibits 
 far more of ingenuity than of sound judgment. 
 
 Bunyan's labours were now nearly closed. 
 His death appears to have taken place during 
 one of his periodical visits to the metropolis. 
 
302 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 His last sermon was preached in London, in 
 July, 1688, from John i, 3, " Which were born, 
 not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of 
 the will of man, but of God" He concluded 
 his discourse by exhorting those who were 
 " born of God," to seek after holiness of life : 
 " Consider that the holy God is your Father, 
 and let this oblige you to live like the children 
 of God, that you may look your Father in the 
 face with comfort another day." 
 
 In the course of his ministry Bunyan had 
 often found occasion to exercise himself in the 
 character of a " peacemaker ;" and we are told, 
 that by his skill in reconciling difficulties, " he 
 had hindered many mischiefs, and saved some 
 families from ruin." It was in the performance 
 of a work of mercy of this character that he 
 contracted the disease which brought him to the 
 grave. A young gentleman, a neighbour of 
 Bunyan's, had fallen under the displeasure of 
 his father, who in consequence threatened to 
 disinherit him. The young man thinking Bun- 
 yan the likeliest person to effect a reconcilia- 
 tion, applied to him to act as mediator in his 
 behalf. Prompted by his benevolent feelings, 
 the good man, though labouring under bodily 
 indisposition, readily undertook the task, and 
 went to Reading for that purpose. There he 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 303 
 
 so successfully pleaded the young man's cause, 
 that the father's heart was softened, and his 
 bowels yearned over his son. 
 
 The difference being thus happily adjusted, 
 he set out on horseback on his return to Lon- 
 don, a distance of thirty-seven miles. The day 
 proved very rainy, and he arrived wet and late 
 at the house of his friend, Mr. Strudwick, a 
 grocer on Snow Hill. His exposure brought 
 on a severe cold, and though he was treated 
 with all the kindness and consideration which 
 loving friendship could suggest, he continued 
 to grow worse and worse. At first he was 
 seized with a kind of shaking, like an ague, 
 which turning to a violent fever, he was com- 
 pelled to take to his bed. Finding his strength 
 decay, and his end draw nigh, he settled his 
 temporal concerns as well as the shortness of 
 the time and the violence of his disease would 
 permit. 
 
 Having now done with the affairs of this 
 world, he gave himself up to the thoughts of 
 another, and expressed himself as wishing for 
 nothing more than to " depart and be with 
 Christ." He comforted those that wept around 
 him, exhorting them to trust in God, and pray 
 to him for mercy and forgiveness of their sins ; 
 telling them what a glorious exchange it would 
 
304 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 be, to leave the troubles and cares of a wretch- 
 ed mortality to live with Christ for ever, with 
 peace and joy inexpressible ; expounding to 
 them the comfortable scriptures by which they 
 were to hope and assuredly come to a blessed 
 resurrection in the last day. He desired some 
 to pray, and joined with them in prayer. His 
 last words, after he had struggled with a lan- 
 guishing disease, were : " Weep not for me, 
 but for yourselves : I go to the Father of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, who will no doubt, through 
 the mediation of his blessed Son, receive me, 
 though a sinner, where I hope we ere long shall 
 meet, to sing the new song, and remain ever- 
 lastingly happy, world without end." He fell 
 asleep in Jesus on the 12th of August, after an 
 illness of ten days.* 
 
 Under the title of " Dying Sayings of Mr. 
 Bunyan," a number of brief observations, ar- 
 
 * It appears, says Dr. Southey, that at the time of 
 his death the lord mayor, Sir John Shorter, was one of 
 his London flock. A memorandum, preserved in Ellis's 
 Correspondence, (vol. ii, p. 161,) thus records his death. 
 September 6, 1688: "Few days before died Bunyan, his 
 lordship's teacher or chaplain ; a man said to be gifted 
 in that way, though once a cobler." Mr. Philip fur- 
 ther informs us, that an elegy on Bunyan's death was 
 published under civic authority; and that a copy of it 
 is now in the possession of John Wilks, Esq. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 305 
 
 ranged under various heads, were published by 
 Mr. Chandler, his successor at Bedford,* in 
 1692. These "sayings," Mr. Philip is of 
 opinion, were noted by the Strudwick family 
 during Bunyan's last sickness, and the few 
 weeks of indisposition that preceded it. The 
 following is a selection from them : — 
 
 " Of sin. Sin is the great block and bar to 
 our happiness ; the procurer of all miseries to 
 man, both here and hereafter. Take away sin, 
 and nothing can hurt us ; for death, temporal, 
 spiritual, and eternal, is the wages of it. 
 
 " No sin against God can be little, because 
 it is against the great God of heaven and earth; 
 but if the sinner can find out a little God, it may 
 be easy to find out little sins. 
 
 " Take heed of giving thyself liberty of com- 
 mitting one sin, for that will lead thee to an- 
 other, till by ill custom it become natural. 
 
 " Of affliction. Nothing can render afflic- 
 tion so heavy as the load of sin ; would you 
 therefore be fitted for afflictions, be sure to get 
 
 * Mr. Chandler, who was a Pedobaptist, was ordained 
 to the pastoral charge of the Bedford congregation in 
 1691. He continued with them for the long space of 
 fifty-six years, and died in a good old age in 1747. The 
 present pastor is the Rev. Samuel Hillyard, also a Pedo- 
 baptist, who has been there more than forty years. 
 20 
 
306 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the burden of your sins laid aside, and then 
 what afflictions soever you meet with will be 
 very easy to you. 
 
 " The Lord useth his flail of tribulation, to 
 separate the chaff from the wheat. 
 
 " In times of affliction we commonly meet with 
 the sweetest experiences of the love of God. 
 
 " Did we heartily renounce the pleasures of 
 this world, we should be very little troubled for 
 our afflictions. That which renders an afflicted 
 state so insupportable to many, is because they 
 are too much addicted to the pleasures of this 
 life, and so cannot endure that which makes a 
 separation between them. 
 
 " The end of affliction is the discovery of sin ; 
 and of that to bring us to the Saviour ; let us 
 therefore, with the prodigal, return unto him, 
 and we shall find ease and rest. 
 
 " I have often thought that the best of Chris- 
 tians are found in the worst times ; and I have 
 thought again, that one reason why we are not 
 better is, because God purges us no more. 
 
 " Of death and judgment. Nothing will 
 make us more earnest in working out the work 
 of our salvation, than a frequent meditation of 
 mortality : nothing hath a greater influence for 
 the taking off our hearts from vanities, and 
 for the begetting in us desires for holiness. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 307 
 
 "When the sound of the trumpet shall be 
 heard, which shall summon the dead to appear 
 before the tribunal of God, the righteous shall 
 hasten out of their graves with joy, to meet their 
 Redeemer in the clouds ; others shall call to the 
 mountains and hills to fall upon them, to cover 
 them from the sight of their Judge : let us there- 
 fore in time be posing ourselves to know which 
 of the two we shall be. 
 
 " Of the joys of heaven. There is no 
 good in this life but what is mingled with some 
 evil. Honours perplex ; riches disquiet ; and 
 pleasures ruin health. But in heaven we shall 
 find blessings in their purity ; without any 
 ingredient to imbitter, with everything to 
 sweeten them. 
 
 "O! who is able to conceive the inexpressible, 
 inconceivable joys that are there ? None but 
 those who have tasted of them. Lord, help us 
 to put such a value upon them here, that in 
 order to prepare ourselves for them, we may be 
 willing to forego the loss of all those deluding 
 pleasures here. 
 
 " How will the heavens echo for joy, when 
 the bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell 
 with her husband for ever ! 
 
 " Christ is the desire of nations, the joy of 
 angels, the delight of the Father ; what solace 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 309 
 
 then must the soul be filled with that hath the 
 possession of him to eternity ! 
 
 " If you would be better satisfied what the 
 beatific vision means, my request is, that you 
 would live holily, and go and see." 
 
 Bunyan's death was lamented as a " heavy 
 stroak" by his church and congregation at Bed- 
 ford, as we learn from the old Church " Booke ;" 
 and Wednesday, the fourth of September, " was 
 kept in prayer and humilyation" in consequence 
 of it. His remains were interred in the cele- 
 brated burying-place of the dissenters in Bun- 
 hill-fields, London. They were deposited in 
 the vault of his friend, Mr. Strudwick ; and over 
 them a tomb was erected to his memory, bear- 
 ing this inscription : — 
 
 MR. JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 ob. 31 Aug. 1688, ;et. 60. 
 
 ' The Pilgrim's Progress now is finished, 
 And death has laid him in his earthly bed.' 
 
 Elegy on the death of the Rev. J. B. 
 
 Bunhill-fields was first used as a cemetery, 
 in the time of the plague. After this it was 
 leased by the London dissenters for the inter- 
 ment of their friends ; and it has since become 
 rich in the dust of eminent saints, whose ashes 
 repose there till the morning of the resurrection. 
 
310 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 A further notice of it and of some eminent per- 
 sons buried there will be found in the Appendix, 
 page 341. Bunyan's tomb is said to be now 
 in a decayed condition, and the inscription near- 
 ly illegible ; in consequence of which measures 
 have been taken to erect a new one in its place. 
 "A committee has been formed to collect sub- 
 scriptions for this purpose ; and small sums are 
 solicited, that the greater number may enjoy the 
 pleasure of contributing to perpetuating this 
 memorial of departed genius and piety."* 
 
 11 Brother in Christ ! thy flight we view, 
 
 Thy works, which trace thee to the skies ; 
 Fain would our spirits follow too, 
 
 And to thy height of glory rise. 
 O might the mantle of thy zeal, 
 
 Thy faith and prayer, on us descend ! 
 Might we thy kindling ardour feel, 
 
 Our all in Jesu's cause to spend." 
 
 * London Baptist Magazine. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 311 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 BUNYAN'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE! HIS FAMILY*. 
 TRADITIONS AND RELICS I CONCLUSION. 
 
 Bunyan's person and character are thus de- 
 scribed by his earliest biographer, who was per- 
 sonally acquainted with him : — " He appeared 
 in countenance to be of a stern and rough tem- 
 per, — but in his conversation mild and affable ; 
 not given to loquacity or much discourse in 
 company, unless some urgent occasion required 
 it ; observing never to boast of himself or his 
 parts, but rather to seem low in his own eyes, 
 and submit himself to the judgment of others. 
 .... He had a sharp, quick eye, accompanied 
 with an excellent discerning of persons, being 
 of good judgment and quick wit. As for his 
 person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, 
 though not corpulent; somewhat of a ruddy 
 face, with sparkling eyes ; wearing his hair on 
 his upper lip, after the old British fashion ; his 
 hair reddish, but in his latter days time had 
 sprinkled it with gray ; his nose well set, but 
 not declining or bending, and his mouth mode- 
 rately large ; his forehead somewhat high ; and 
 his habit always plain and modest. And thus 
 
312 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 have we impartially described the internal and 
 external parts of a person whose death has 
 been much regretted; who had tried the smiles 
 and frowns of time, not puffed up in prosperity, 
 nor shaken in adversity, always holding the 
 golden mean."* 
 
 Respecting his temporal circumstances, we 
 are told by the same authority, that " though by 
 the many losses he sustained by imprisonment 
 and spoil, his chargeable sickness, &c, his 
 earthly treasure swelled not to excess ; he al- 
 ways had sufficient to live decently and credita- 
 bly ; and with that he had the greatest of all 
 treasures, which is content; for as the wise 
 man says, that is ' a continual feast.' * 
 
 *In endeavouring to transmit to posterity an idea of the 
 personal appearance of this extraordinary man, his earliest 
 biographers are somewhat at variance with the painter of 
 his portrait. The former represent his countenance to 
 have been indicative of a stern and rough temper, though 
 his nature in reality was mild and gentle. They misun- 
 derstood his physiognomy, which Sadler, the artist to 
 whom he sat in 1685, three years before his death, read 
 far more ably. He has, in fact, produced a portrait in 
 which breathes forth the true character of the man : the 
 capacious forehead, the full mild eye, the high nose, the 
 large and well-formed mouth, the chin indicating firmness, 
 and the placid expression of benevolence diffused over 
 the whole countenance, are all in harmony with the 
 mind of Bunyan as it appears in his works. — St. John. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 313 
 
 A few short paragraphs will suffice to tell all 
 that is known respecting the family and de- 
 scendants of Bunyan. His wife Elizabeth, who 
 pleaded his cause with so much spirit before 
 the judges, did not long survive him ; but in 
 1692 " followed her faithful Pilgrim to the ce- 
 lestial city, there to dwell in the presence of 
 the King and her husband for ever." 
 
 He appears to have had six children. Mary, 
 his " poor blind child," for whom he expressed 
 such tender solicitude while in prison, died a 
 few years before him. Thomas, his eldest son, 
 who joined the church at Bedford in 1673, con- 
 tinued a member forty-five years. He occa- 
 sionally preached in the neighbouring villages, 
 and was sometimes appointed to visit disorderly 
 members ; he must therefore have been in good 
 repute both for discretion and piety. Of the 
 other children, John, Joseph,* Sarah, and Eliza- 
 beth, we believe nothing is known but their 
 names. Katharine Bunyan, admitted a member 
 
 * In connection with this son there is an anecdote 
 which strikingly exhibits the disinterestedness and sim- 
 plicity of Bunyan's character. " I once told him," says 
 one, " of a gentleman in London, a wealthy citizen, that 
 would take his son Joseph apprentice without money, 
 which might be a great means to advance him : but he 
 replied to me, « God did not send me to advance my 
 family, but to preach the gospel.' " 
 
314 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAJ*. 
 
 of the church in 1692, and John Bunyan, re- 
 ceived into communion the following year, are 
 supposed to have been his grandchildren. 
 
 In the wall of the burial-ground attached to 
 the Bedford meeting house is a tablet to the 
 memory of Hannah Bunyan, a great grandchild 
 of Bunyan's, who died in 1770, and with her 
 all knowledge of his posterity terminates. It 
 bears the following inscription : — " In memory 
 of Hannah Bunyan, who departed this life Feb- 
 ruary 15th, 1770, aged 76 years; she was 
 great-granddaughter to the Rev. and justly-cele- 
 brated Mr. John Bunyan, who died at London, 
 August 31st, 1688, aged 60 years, and was 
 buried in Bunhill-fields, where there is a stone 
 erected to his memory. He was minister of 
 the Gospel here 32 years, and during that time 
 suffered 12 years imprisonment." 
 
 The cottage in which he was born is still 
 shown at Elstow ; but it has been repaired and 
 renewed so thoroughly, that little of the original 
 building remains, with the exception of the 
 great beam which supports the upper floor. 
 Our view of it is taken from a picture copied 
 from an old print. 
 
 Bunyan's meeting-house at Bedford was 
 pulled down, and a new one erected on its site, 
 in 1707. Howard, the philanthropist, and Mr, 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 315 
 
 Whitbread, father of the distinguished member 
 of parliament, both had pews in it.* The old 
 pvlpit was transferred to the new chapel, and 
 used in it for many years, when it was pur- 
 chased by Mr. Howard, who gave for it £30, 
 and a new pulpit which cost him £40.f Mr. 
 Whitbread, at the same time, gave £126 to- 
 ward other improvements on the chapel ; and at 
 his death left to the church £500 in three per 
 cent, stock, the interest of which was to be an- 
 nually distributed in bread to the poor members, 
 
 * After his settlement at Cardington, Mr. Howard be- 
 came a regular hearer at this chapel. He used, when 
 the weather permitted, to walk from his residence to the 
 chapel, a distance of three miles, every Sunday, before 
 the morning service; and returned home in the same 
 manner after the close of the afternoon service. In order 
 to secure retirement for his devotions, he built a house 
 within a few doors of the chapel, which he permitted a 
 family to occupy free of rent, on the condition that he 
 should have the use of the parlour when he was at Bed- 
 ford on the sabbath. — Life of Howard. 
 
 t What Howard did with it I know not. Mr. Hillyard 
 has, however, a small table which was made from it, on 
 which he places occasionally Bunyan's cup. That cup 
 is a beautiful curiosity, and of exquisite workmanship. 
 It seems, from the splendour of the colours, and the 
 chasteness of both the form and ornaments, to be of 
 foreign manufacture. It will hold about a pint; and 
 tradition says, that Bunyan's broth was brought to cha. 
 pel in it for his Sunday's dinner in the vestry Philip, 
 
316 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 between Michaelmas and Christmas; assigning 
 as a reason for his liberality, the respect he had 
 for the memory of Bunyan.* 
 
 Bunyan's pulpit Bible is in the possession of 
 the Whitbread family. " When it was to be 
 sold among the library of the Rev. Samuel Pal- 
 mer, of Hackney, Mr. Whitbread, the member, 
 gave a commission to bid as much for it as the 
 bidder thought his father, had he been living, 
 would have given for a relic which he would 
 have valued so highly. It was accordingly 
 bought for twenty guineas, [$100.]" — Southey. 
 
 Bunyan's copy of the Book of Martyrs, in 
 three folio volumes, has recently, after a long 
 absence, found its way back again to Bedford. 
 For many years it has been eagerly sought after 
 by collectors of curious and valuable books. It 
 was in one family for nearly a century. In 1780 
 it was purchased by a Mr.Wontner, of London, 
 from whom it descended to his daughter. After 
 passing through two or three more hands, it was 
 purchased by Mr. White, a bookseller of Bedford, 
 and a great admirer of Bunyan, who gave for it 
 .£40, ($192,) solely for the purpose of depositing 
 it in the town where, in former days, it had been 
 so highly appreciated by its venerated owner. 
 
 * His son afterward increased the principal to £980, 
 and the interest now amounts to about $140 a year. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 317 
 
 One of the treasured relics of the Pilgrim, 
 still preserved by the church, is his vestry chair, 
 of which our cut is an accurate representation 
 
 Bunyan's walking-stick — the Pilgrim's staff — 
 is now, Mr. Philip tells us, in the possession of 
 a Mr. Voley, by whom it is greatly prized. 
 
 The jail in which Bunyan was confined, 
 (described as a loathsome building,) was pulled 
 down many years ago. It stood on the bridge. 
 
 Among the spots consecrated by Bunyan's 
 memory is a deep dell, or valley, in a wood 
 near Hitchin, (a village in Hertfordshire,) in 
 which a thousand people could assemble. Here, 
 
318 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 standing by the stump of a tree, which served 
 him for a pulpit, he frequently preached (some- 
 times at midnight) to large congregations, who 
 stood around him on an eminence, in the form 
 of a crescent. (It is said that during the ser- 
 vice a person kept watch at the entrance to this 
 spot, to give notice of the approach of officers 
 or informers, so that the people might have time 
 to escape.) A chimney-corner at a house in the 
 same wood is still looked upon with veneration, 
 as having been the place of his refreshment. 
 
 About five miles from Hitchin was a famous 
 Puritan preaching place, called Bendish, where 
 Bunyan was also in the habit of preaching. It 
 had been a malt house, was very low, and had 
 a thatched roof, and ran in two directions, a 
 large square pulpit standing in the angle. Ad- 
 joining the pulpit was a high pew, on which 
 ministers sat out of sight of informers, and from 
 which, in case of alarm, they could escape into 
 an adjacent lane. The building being much 
 decayed, the meeting was transferred^ in 1787, 
 to a place called Coleman Green ; and the pul- 
 pit, with a commendable feeling, was carefully 
 removed thither. This, and the pulpit in Lon- 
 don, (of which we have given an engraving,) 
 are believed to be the only ones now in existence 
 in which Bunyan is known to have preached. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BONYAN. 319 
 
 At a house near Preston Castle, about three 
 miles from Hitchin, the nonconformist ministers 
 used to meet for mutual conference. At one of 
 these meetings, at which Bunyan was present, 
 that difficult text about the "groans" of the 
 "creation" (Rom. viii, 19-22) was a subject of 
 discussion : when it came to his turn to speak, 
 he only said, "The Scriptures are wiser than I;" 
 intimating that the subject was beyond his com- 
 prehension. Thus Luther used to say, " The 
 meaning of that scripture I could never find out." 
 
 But the most valuable relics of Bunyan are 
 his numerous writings, which constitute a mon- 
 ument to his genius that will prove far more 
 enduring than the stone which marks the spot 
 where his ashes repose. He was a much more 
 voluminous author than most of his readers are 
 aware. His works, great and small, were equal 
 in number to the years of his life ; hence, to the 
 title of one of his productions the publisher ap- 
 pended the words, " By John Bunyan, who wrote 
 sixty books." He did not, however, live to 
 publish the whole of them himself. After his 
 death, his wife put forth an advertisement, stat- 
 ing her inability to print those which he had 
 left in manuscript ; but they were included in 
 a folio volume of his works, published in 1692, 
 the year in which she died. It was edited by 
 
320 LIFE OF JOHN fcUNYAN. 
 
 Messrs. Chandler and Wilson,* who remark in 
 the preface, " that several of his treatises had 
 appeared in print before ; the rest were pre- 
 pared for the press by the author before his 
 death." This volume, however, was far from 
 containing the whole of his works. 
 
 Mr. Charles Doe, in conjunction with another 
 person, issued a circular or prospectus for the 
 publication of the remaining works. It con- 
 tained " Thirty Reasons why Christian people 
 should promote, by subscription, the printing in 
 folio the labours of Mr. John Bunyan, late Min- 
 ister of the Gospel, and Pastor of the congrega- 
 tion at Bedford :" there was also a brief sketch 
 of the author's life, and the chronological list of 
 his works, entitled, "A Catalogue -Table of Mr. 
 Bunyan's Books, and their succession in pub- 
 lishing ; most according to his own reckoning." 
 We give the list, with some corrections. 
 
 1. Some Gospel Truths opened ...... 1656 
 
 2. A Vindication of the above 1657 
 
 3. Sighs from Hell ; or Groans of a Damned Soul. 
 
 4. The Doctrine of the Law and Grace unfolded ; in 
 a Discourse touching the Law and Gospel. 
 
 5. Discourse on Prayer 1663 
 
 * Wilson was formerly a member of Bunyan's church 
 at Bedford, from whence he went out to take the pasto- 
 ral charge of the Baptist congregation at Hitchin, which 
 is commonly supposed to have been founded by Bunyan. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 321 
 
 6. A Map of Salvation, &c. 
 
 7. One Thing is Needful ; or Serious Meditations upon 
 the Four Last Things — Death and Judgment, Heaven 
 and Hell. 
 
 8. Ebal and Gerizzim ; or the Blessing and the Curse. 
 
 9. Prison Meditations. 
 
 10. The Holy City ; or the New Jerusalem, 8vo. 1665 
 
 11. The Resurrection of the Dead, and Eternal Judg- 
 ment 1665 
 
 12. Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. 
 
 13. Defence of the Doctrine of Justification by Jesus 
 Christ ; in reply to Bishop Fowler, 4to. . . . 1671 
 
 14. A Confession of my Faith ; and a Reason of my 
 Practice 1672 
 
 15. Difference in Judgment about Water-baptism no Bar 
 to Communion 1673 
 
 16. Peaceable Principles and True 3674 
 
 17. A Discourse on Election and Reprobation. 
 
 18. Light for them that sit in Darkness .... 1675 
 
 19. Christian Behaviour; being the Fruits of True Chris- 
 tianity 1675 
 
 20. Instructions for the Ignorant, 8vo 1675 
 
 21. Saved by Grace ; or a Discourse on the Grace of God. 
 
 22. The Strait Gate, 8vo 1676 
 
 23. The Pilgrim's Progress, First Part, 12mo. . 1678 
 
 24. Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, 8vo. . 1678 
 
 25. A Treatise on the Fear of God 1679 
 
 26. The Holy War 1682 
 
 27. The Barren Fig-tree ; or the Doom and Downfall of 
 the Fruitless Professor. 
 
 28. The Greatness of the Soul, and the Unspeakableness 
 of its Loss 1683 
 
 29. A Case of Conscience of Prayer. 
 
 21 
 
322 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAtf. 
 
 30. Advice to Sufferers 1684 
 
 31. The Pilgrim's Progress, Second Part . . . 1684 
 
 32. Life and Death of Mr. Badman 1684 
 
 33. A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity . . 1684 
 
 34. Discourse upon the Pharisee and the Publican 1685 
 
 35. Caution to stir up to watch against Sin. . . 1685 
 
 36. Meditations on Seventy-four Things . . . 1685 
 
 37. Questions about the Nature and Perpetuity of the Se- 
 venth-day Sabbath ; and Proof that the First Day of 
 the Week is the Christian Sabbath .... 1685 
 
 38. The Jerusalem Sinner saved 1688 
 
 39. Work of Jesus Christ as an Advocate, 12mo. 1688 
 
 40. A Discourse of the Nature, Building, and Govern- 
 ment of the House of God 1688 
 
 41. The Water of Life; a Discourse upon Revelation 
 xxii.l , . . . . 1688 
 
 42. Solomon's Temple spiritualized 1688 
 
 43. The Acceptable Sacrifice; or the Excellence of a Bro- 
 ken Heart. . 1688 
 
 44. His Last Sermon, preached July, 1688. 
 
 45. An Exposition of the ten first Chapters of Genesis, 
 and Part of the eleventh 1 692 
 
 46. Justification by Imputed Righteousness; or no Way 
 to Heaven but by Jesus Christ 1692 
 
 47. Paul's Departure and Crown ; or an Exposition up. 
 on 2 Tim. iv, 6-8 . 1692 
 
 48. Of the Trinity and a Christian 1692 
 
 49. Of the Law and a Christian 1692 
 
 50. Israel's Hope encouraged ; or what Hope is, and how 
 distinguished from Faith 1692 
 
 51. The Desire of the Righteous granted ; or a Discourse 
 of the Righteous Man's Desires 1692 
 
 52. The Unsearchable Riches of Christ . . . 1692 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUN VAN. 323 
 
 53. Christ a Complete Saviour; or the Intercession of 
 Christ, and who are privileged in it . . . . 1692 
 
 54. The Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love . . 1692 
 
 55. Discourse of the House of the Forest of Lebanon 1692 
 
 56. Of Antichrist and his Ruin ; and of the Slaying of 
 the Witnesses 1692 
 
 57. A Christian Dialogue. 
 
 58. The Heavenly Footman ; or a description of the Man 
 that gets to Heaven. 
 
 59. A Pocket Concordance. 
 
 60. An Account of his Imprisonment. 
 
 This list is not quite complete, the Divine 
 Emblems, and one or two other works, being 
 omitted : we have not inserted them, not know- 
 ing the order of their publication. Numbers 
 seven, eight, nine, and thirty-Jive in the foregoing 
 list are in verse. Those numbered horn forty- 
 four to sixty, inclusive, were posthumous publi- 
 cations, most of which, as will be seen by the 
 dates appended to them, appeared for the first 
 time in the folio volume published in 1692. A 
 work entitled, Heart's Ease in Heart's Troubles, 
 which has been often printed under Bunyan's 
 name, was not written by him. 
 
 Doe, who calls himself " the straggler for the 
 preservation of Mr. Bunyan's labours in folio," 
 appears not to have succeeded in his project. 
 
 In Granger's Biographical History of Eng- 
 land, it is stated that " the works of Mr. Bun- 
 
324 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 yam, which had long been printed on tobacco 
 paper by Nicholas Boddington and others,* were 
 in 1735-6 reprinted in two decent volumes, 
 folio." This edition was prepared by the Rev. 
 Samuel Wilson, a Baptist preacher in London, 
 and grandson of the Wilson who edited the first 
 folio volume. A finer edition was afterward 
 published, with a recommendatory preface by 
 Whitefield ; and since that there has been an- 
 other complete edition in six volumes, octavo. 
 
 No complete edition of Bunyan's writings 
 has ever been printed in this country ; the vol- 
 umes published here as " Bunyan's Works " 
 being only a selection. 
 
 The life of Bunyan furnishes a striking ex- 
 ample of the elevating tendency of true religion, 
 and its power over the mental as well as the 
 moral faculties of man. No man could more 
 emphatically say, By the grace of God I am 
 what I am. No sooner was the ungodly sinner 
 reclaimed, " than, just in proportion as his heart 
 was purified, and his affections were raised 
 from earthly, sensual delights, his understand- 
 ing was opened, and the hidden energies of a 
 
 * Mr. Philip, speaking of the paper on which Bun- 
 yan's works were first printed, says that it seemed to be 
 the very worst which the publishers could obtain. 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 325 
 
 mind, destined in future ages to rule over mil- 
 lions of minds, were awakened. . . . Now, had 
 he continued in his headlong, heedless career 
 of vice and folly, he must have lived a pest to 
 civilized society, and ' died as a dog dieth ;' his 
 memory had perished with the recollections of 
 his immediate descendants, and at this day it 
 would have been no more known that such a 
 man existed than what shape the cloud wore 
 from which the first shower fell upon his 
 head." — Montgomery. 
 
 Having been brought out of the darkness of 
 sin into the marvellous light of the gospel, he 
 conscientiously devoted his newly-awakened 
 energies to the cause of his divine Master. It 
 became his meat and his drink to do and suffer 
 what he believed to be the will of his heavenly 
 Father. He set himself to serve the Lord ; and 
 with an earnestness of soul, and a singleness 
 of purpose, of which there are too few exam- 
 ples, laboured that others might become par- 
 takers of that grace to which he felt himself so 
 great a debtor. And in this work he was, as 
 we have seen, eminently successful. Perhaps, 
 with the single exception of Richard Baxter, 
 there was no other man of his day whose labours 
 and writings have been rendered so mightily 
 instrumental in the furtherance of that gospel 
 
326 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 for which he was so long " an ambassador in 
 bonds." 
 
 The life and ministry of such a man are a 
 standing rebuke to the arrogant pretensions of a 
 class of individuals who, without any evidence 
 of extraordinary piety or success, (but rather 
 the contrary,) claim to be the exclusive minis- 
 ters of Christ ; but many of whom, if we may 
 judge by their spirit and principles, had they 
 lived eighteen hundred years ago, would have 
 been found, not among the number of " the 
 twelve," but in the ranks of those who rebuked 
 the Saviour because he walked not " according 
 to the tradition of the elders." While an un- 
 godly and intolerant priesthood were making an 
 empty boast of " apostolic succession," and for- 
 bidding to preach all who followed not them, 
 John Bunyan was zealously doing " the work 
 of an evangelist." And he made " full proof 
 of his ministry." He could point those who 
 questioned his authority to scores and hundreds 
 brought to a knowledge of the truth through his 
 instrumentality and say, " The seals of mine apos- 
 tleship are they in the Lord" Whether of these 
 twain, then, think ye, did the will of Him whom 
 they both professed to serve 1 The Master him- 
 self has furnished a clew for the answer of this 
 inquiry: "By their fruits ye shall know them" 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 327 
 
 Happy is the church " that hath its quiver 
 full" of such preachers as John Bunyan ; men 
 of " clean hands and pure hearts," called and 
 qualified by the Holy Ghost for " the work of 
 the ministry," and thrust out into the vineyard 
 by the " Lord of the vineyard." These, though 
 no mitred prelate may have laid holy or unholy 
 hands upon their heads, are the true successors 
 of the apostles ; and the blessed results that 
 accompany their ministrations are a verification 
 of the promise made by the great Head of the 
 church to the first preachers of his gospel, and 
 through them to their successors in all ages, 
 " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end 
 of the world." 
 
 We cannot better conclude our work than by 
 appending the following lines, written by Ber- 
 nard Barton on seeing an authentic portrait of 
 Bunyan : — ■■ 
 
 And this is Bunyan ! How unlike the dull, 
 
 Unmeaning visage which was wont to stand 
 His Pilgrim's frontispiece — its pond'rous skull 
 Propp'd gracelessly on an enormous hand ; — 
 A countenance one vainly might have scann'd 
 For one bright ray of genius or of sense ; 
 
 Much less the mental power of him who plann'd 
 This fabric quaint of rare intelligence, 
 And having rear'd its pile, became immortal thence. 
 
328 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 But here we trace, indellibly defined, 
 
 All his admirers' fondest hopes could crave, 
 Shrewdness of intellect, and strength of mind ; 
 
 Devout, yet lively, and acute though grave ; 
 
 Worthy of him whose rare invention gave 
 To serious truth the charm of fiction's dress, 
 
 Yet in that fiction sought the soul to save 
 From earth and sin, for heaven and happiness, 
 And by his fancied dreams men's waking hours to bless. 
 
 Delightful author ! while I look upon 
 The striking portraiture of thee — I seem 
 
 As if my thoughts on pilgrimage were gone 
 Down the far vista of thy pleasant dream, 
 Whose varied scenes with vivid wonders teem — 
 
 Slough of Despond ! thy terrors strike mine eye ; 
 Over the Wicket Gate I see the gleam 
 
 Of shining light ; and catch that mountain high, 
 Of Difficult ascent, the Pilgrim's faith to try. 
 
 The House called Beautiful ; the lowly Vale 
 
 Of Self-Humiliation, where the might 
 Of Christian, panoplied in heavenly mail, 
 
 Overcame Apollyon in that fearful fight ; 
 
 The "Valley named of Death, by shades of night 
 Encompass'd, and with horrid phantoms rife ; 
 
 The Town of Vanity, where bigot Spite, 
 Ever with Christian pilgrimage at strife, 
 The martyr'd Faithful gave the crown of endless life ! 
 
 Thence on with Christian and his hopeful peer, 
 
 To Doubting Castle's dungeons I descend ; 
 The Key of Promise opes those vaults ot fear; 
 
LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 329 
 
 And now o'er Hills Delectable I wend 
 To Beulah's sunny plains, where sweetly blend 
 Of flowers, and fruits, and song, a blissful maze ; 
 Till at the bridgeless stream my course I end, 
 Eyeing the further shore with rapture's gaze, 
 Where that bright city basks in glory's sunless blaze ! 
 
 Immortal dreamer ! while thy magic page 
 To such celestial visions can give birth, 
 
 Well may this portraiture our love engage, 
 
 Which gives, with grace congenial to thy worth, 
 The form thy living features wore on earth : 
 
 For few may boast a juster, prouder claim 
 
 Than thine: whose labours blending harmless mirth 
 
 With sagest counsel's higher, holier aim, 
 Have from the wise and good won honourable fame. 
 
 And still, for marvelling childhood, blooming youth, 
 
 Ripe manhood, silver-tress'd and serious age — 
 Ingenious fancy, and instructive truth 
 
 Richly adorn thy allegoric page, 
 
 Pointing the warfare Christians yet must wage, 
 Who wish to journey on that heavenly road ; 
 
 And tracing clearly each successive stage 
 Of the rough path thy holy travellers trod, 
 The Pilgrim's Progress marks to glory and to God ! 
 
 We have now given what we believe to be 
 a true portraiture of this distinguished man, and 
 a faithful narrative of the circumstances which 
 marked his life, so far as they are known or 
 
330 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 can now be ascertained. Our task has not been 
 accomplished without much labour ; still it has 
 been a " labour of love," and we hope also of 
 spiritual profit. Indeed, no one who " goes on 
 pilgrimage" can study Bunyan's experience and 
 not be benefited by it : and we trust that thou, 
 gentle reader, hast found something in this life 
 of the Pilgrim to aid thee in thy progress to 
 the celestial city : if so, we have not written 
 nor hast thou read, in vain. Farewell. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Note to Page 33. 
 Elstow (originally Helenstowe) is a place of 
 very ancient date. It was noted as the site of an 
 abbey of Benedictine nuns, founded in the time 
 of William the Conqueror, by his niece. 
 
 The Church of St. Mary, at Helenstowe, 
 was dedicated to the holy Trinity, and St. He- 
 lena, mother of Constantine the Great, from 
 whom the village appears to have taken name, 
 for Dugdale calls it " Helenstow, i. e., Helene 
 statio." The tower (see the engraving on page 6) 
 is entirely detached from the church. The bel- 
 fry is furnished with a ring of five bells, bearing 
 severally these inscriptions : — 
 
 God save our King. 1631. 
 
 Praise the Lord. 1602. 
 
 Christopher Graie made me. 1655. 
 
 VBCDEFG ABCDE ttSTVW 
 
 Be yt knowne to all that doth me see 
 
 That Newcombe of Leicester made mee. 1604. 
 
 In 1821, Elstow contained 102 houses, and 
 548 inhabitants. Gent.Mag.,vo\.xc\i, pt.2, pp.105-7. 
 
 Note to Page 207. 
 This council was held by Pope John about 
 the year 1400. The following account of the 
 incident referred to is taken from a copy of the 
 
332 APPENDIX. 
 
 Book of Martyrs, of the same edition as the one 
 owned by Bunyan : — - 
 
 " As mention is made of a certaine councell 
 before holden at Rome against the articles and 
 bookes of John WicklifFe, it shall not be imper- 
 tinent nor out of purpose to repeat a certain 
 merry history, and worthy otherwise to be noted, 
 written by Nicholas Clemangis, of a certaine 
 spirit which ruled the Popish councels ; his 
 words are these : — * The same pope called a 
 councell at Rome, at the earnest sute of diverse 
 men. And a masse of the holy Ghost being 
 said at the entrance into the said councell, (ac- 
 cording to the accustomed manner,) the coun- 
 cell being set, and the said John sitting highest 
 in a chaire prepared for him for that purpose : 
 Behold, an ugly and dreadfull Owle, or as the 
 common proverbe is, the evill signe of some 
 mischance of death to follow, comming out of 
 the backe halfe of him, flew to and fro, with 
 her evill favoured voice, and standing upon the 
 middle beame of the Church, cast her staring 
 eyes upon the Pope sitting. The whole com- 
 pany began to marvell, to see the night Crow, 
 which is wont to abide no light, how he should 
 in the mid day come in the face of such a mul- 
 titude, and iudged (not without cause) that it 
 was an ilfavored token. And as they stood 
 beholding one another, and advising the pope, 
 scarcely could they keepe their countenance 
 from laughter. John himselfe, upon whom the 
 
APPENDIX. 333 
 
 Owle stedfastly looked, blushing at the matter, 
 began to sweat and to fret and fume with him- 
 selfe, and not finding by what other means he 
 might salve the matter, being so confused, dis- 
 solving the councell, rose up and departed. 
 After that there followed another Session : in 
 the which the Owle againe, after the manner 
 aforesaid, although, as I believe, not called, was 
 present, looking stedfastly upon the Bishop ; 
 whom hee beholding to bee come againe, was 
 more ashamed than hee was before (and iustly ;) 
 saying, hee could no longer abide the sight of 
 her, and commanded that shee should bee driven 
 away with battes and shoutings : but she being 
 afraid neither with their noise, neither with 
 anything else, would not away, untill that with 
 the strokes of the stickes, which were throwne 
 at her, shee fell downe dead before them all.'" 
 
 Note to Page 229. 
 The true history ofBunyan's release. — Charles 
 II. after his defeat by Cromwell at the battle of 
 Worcester, in 1651, barely saved himself from 
 falling into the hands of his conquerors. After 
 many privations, and several narrow escapes, 
 he at length succeeded, in company with a few 
 trusty followers, in reaching Shoreham, a little 
 town on the coast of Sussex, whence he escaped 
 into France, in a small fishing vessel, the master 
 and mate of which were Quakers. When the 
 vessel reached the French coast, the mate, 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 Richard Carver, carried the king ashore on his 
 shoulders. Charles was restored to the throne 
 in 1660, but Carver made no application for 
 any reward for his services till January, 1670, 
 when he called on the king, " who knew him 
 again, and was friendly to him, and told him he 
 remembered him, and of several things that 
 were done in the ship at the same time." He 
 told the king, that " the reason he had not come to 
 him before was, that he was satisfied in that he 
 had peace and satisfaction in himself, and that 
 he did what he did to relieve a man in distress, 
 and now he desired nothing of him but that he 
 would set Friends at liberty who were great 
 sufferers, and told the king that he had a paper 
 of one hundred and ten that were prsemunired, 
 that had lain in prison six years, and that none 
 can release them but him. The king took the 
 paper, and said that there were many of them, 
 and that they would be in again in a month's 
 time, and that the country gentlemen complained 
 to him that they were troubled with the Quakers." 
 The king promised to release six ; but Carver, 
 not content with this, soon after went again to 
 Charles, in company with another Friend, one 
 Thomas Moore. He had, we are told, " a fair 
 and free opportunity to open his mind to the 
 king, who was very loving to them, and pro- 
 mised to do for him, but willed him to wait a 
 month or two longer." After this, Whitehead 
 and Moore called on the king, and renewed the 
 
APPENDIX. 335 
 
 request. The king listened to their application 
 with attention, and granted them liberty to be 
 heard on the next council day. " And then," 
 says Whitehead, " Thomas Moore, myself, and 
 our friend, Thomas Greene, attended at the 
 council-chamber, at Whitehall, and were all 
 admitted in before the king and a full council. 
 When I had opened and more fully pleaded our 
 suffering friends' cause, the king gave this 
 answer, ' I'll pardon them ;" whereupon Thomas 
 Moore pleaded the innocency of our friends — 
 that they needed no pardon, being innocent; 
 the king's warrant, in a few lines, will discharge 
 them, * For where,' said he, • the word of a king 
 is, there is power.' " To this Charles replied, 
 " O, Mr. Moore, there are persons that are in- 
 nocent as a child new-born, that are pardoned ; 
 you need not scruple a pardon ;" and Sir Thomas 
 Bridgman, the lord keeper, said, " I told them 
 that they cannot legally be discharged but by a 
 pardon under the great seal." 
 
 On the 8th of May, 1672, a royal order was 
 given " at the court of Whitehall," setting forth, 
 that "his majesty was graciously pleased to 
 declare that he will pardon all those persons 
 called Quakers now in. prison for any offence 
 committed only relating to his majesty, and not 
 to the prejudice of any other persons; and it 
 was thereupon ordered by his majesty, in 
 council, that a list of the names of the Quakers 
 in the several prisons, together with the causes 
 
336 APPENDIX. 
 
 of their commitment, be, and is, herewith sent 
 to his majesty's attorney-general, who is required 
 and authorized to prepare a bill for his majesty's 
 signature, containing a pardon, to pass the great 
 seal of England, for all such to whom his 
 majesty may legally grant the same." Letters 
 were also sent to the sheriffs of the different 
 counties, directing them to prepare the required 
 lists and forward them to the Council- Board, at 
 Whitehall. 
 
 Baptists, Presbyterians, Independents, and 
 other sects, " hearing of this," says Whitehead, 
 " and seeing what way we had made with the 
 king for our friends' release, desired that their 
 friends in prison might be discharged with ours, 
 and have their names in the same instrument." 
 They went, therefore, to Whitehead, and earn- 
 estly requested his advice and assistance ; 
 " whereupon," he adds, " I advised them to 
 petition the king for his warrant to have them 
 inserted in the same patent with the Quakers, 
 which accordingly they did petition for and ob- 
 tain ; so that there were a few names of other 
 dissenters who were prisoners in Bedfordshire, 
 Kent, and Wiltshire, (as I remember,) in the 
 same catalogue and instrument with our friends, 
 and released thereby, which I was very glad 
 of; for our being of different judgments and 
 societies, did not abate my compassion or cha- 
 rity towards them, who had been my opposers 
 in some cases. Blessed be the Lord my God, 
 
APPENDIX. 337 
 
 who is the Father and Fountain of mercies; 
 whose love to us, in Christ Jesus, should oblige 
 us to be merciful and kind to one another." 
 
 When the instrument was ready for delivery, 
 the friends were alarmed at the amount of fees 
 legally payable upon it ; for the dissenters in 
 England were then, in general, both poor and 
 needy. The usual charge was a fee of above 
 .£20 for each person, and as there were above 
 four hundred persons named in the instrument, 
 the fees, at the customary rates, would have 
 amounted to about £\ 0,000. The friends, there- 
 fore, applied once more to the king, and the 
 following order was forthwith issued : — 
 
 " His majesty is pleased to command that it 
 be signified as his pleasure to the respective 
 officers and sealers where the pardon to the 
 Quakers is to pass, that the pardon, though 
 comprehending great number of persons, do yet 
 pass as one pardon, and pay but as one.* 
 
 "At the Court of Whitehall, "ARLINGTON. 
 
 Sept. 13, 1672." 
 
 The pardon was dated the same day, and 
 some of the Quakers carried the deed round the 
 kingdom. " The patent," says Whitehead, 
 " was so big and cumbersome, in a leathern case 
 and tin box, with a great seal on it, that Edward 
 Mann was so cumbered with carrying it hang- 
 
 * Note, that though we had this warrant from the king, 
 yet we had trouble from, some of the covetous clerks, 
 who did strive hard to exact upon us. — Whitehead, 
 22 
 
338 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing by his side, that he was fain to tie it across 
 the horse's back behind him." 
 
 The original patent fills eleven skins of parch- 
 ment, and is still preserved among the records 
 of the Society of Friends. In this document, 
 the names of Bunyan and some of his fellow- 
 prisoners in Bedford jail, are thus mentioned : 
 " Johanni Fenn, Johanni Bunyan, Johanni Dunn, 
 Thomae Haynes, Simoni Haynes, Georgio Farr, 
 Jacobo Rogers, Johanni Rush, Tabithae Rush, 
 and Johanni Curfe, prisonariis in Communi, 
 Goala pro comitatu nostraa Bedfordise." 
 
 Thus it appears that Bunyan owed his release 
 to the Quakers, and the Quakers their pardon 
 to the king's recollection of the master and 
 mate who took him on board their boat at Shore- 
 ham, and effected his escape to France, after 
 the fatal fight at Worcester. 
 
 Note to Page 276. 
 
 We give below, brief notices of some of the 
 works referred to, compiled from Southey, Phi- 
 lip, Montgomery, and others. 
 
 Le Romant des trois Pelerinages. The Ro- 
 mance of the Three Pilgrimages, by William 
 de Guilleville, a priest of the Abbaye Royale 
 of St. Bernard at Changles. 
 . This comprises three works, — The Pilgrimage of Hu- 
 man Life — The Pilgrimage of the Soul — and the Pilgrim- 
 age of Jesus Christ. The first was composed in 1310 ; 
 the last bears the date 1358. They are composed in 
 octosyllabaic French verse, and were very popular in the 
 
APPENDIX. 339 
 
 fourteenth century. The second part only was render- 
 ed into English. It was translated in 1413, and a man 
 uscript of it is still preserved ; it is entitled 
 
 Y e Dreme of y e Pilgrimage of y 9 Soule, 
 translated out of Frensch into Englisch, w 11 som 
 addicion, y e yer of our Lord M. iiii and prittene. 
 Caxton printed the " Pilgrimage of the Soul" in 1483. 
 It details the numerous singular incidents which are pre- 
 sumed to befall the soul in its progress after separation 
 from the body ; namely, its trial before St. Michael the 
 Provost, and final sentence to purgatory ; a description 
 of the pains of hell, and its inhabitants ; the soul's re- 
 lease from purgatory, and ascension to heaven, etc. 
 
 The Voyage of the Wandering Knight, 
 showing the whole course of a man's life, how 
 apt he is to follow vanitie, and how hard it is 
 for him to attaine to virtue. Devised by John 
 Carthemy, a Frenchman, and translated out of 
 French into English by W. G., of Southampton. 
 
 This is the title of an old quarto volume, printed in 
 black letter, without date. It is the first work in which 
 can be traced any resemblance to the Pilgrim's Progress. 
 There were two editions of this moral romance printed 
 in the sixteenth century, and a third in the seventeenth ; 
 it is said also that the latter was popular in Bunyan's 
 day. There is, however, little similarity between the 
 two works, beyond the circumstance, that each consists 
 of imaginary travels, in quest of " true felicities 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Perfection, written by- 
 William Bond, a brother of Sion Monastery. 
 Printed by Wynkyn de Worde. 1526. 
 
 This is a devotional treatise, divided into three parts, 
 of which the first shows that the Christian life is a pil- 
 grimage ; the second, that it leaves the world ; and the 
 
340 APPENDIX. 
 
 third contains the self-pilgrim, in a seven days' journey 
 assigned to the seven days of the week, the first five con- 
 taining the active life of religion, and the last two the 
 contemplative life. The whole work is a collection of 
 monastical literature and devotions, comprising exposi- 
 tions of the Pater-noster, Creed, Ave, Decalogue, etc. 
 
 The Pilgrimage to Paradise ; compiled for the 
 direction, comfort, and resolution of God's poore 
 distressed children in passing through this irk- 
 some wildernesse, etc. By L. Wright. 4to. 1591 . 
 
 The Pilgrim's Journey towards Heaven. By 
 William Webster. Lond. 1613. 8vo. 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Dovekin and Willekin to 
 their Beloved in Jerusalem, with a Narrative of 
 their adversities and the end of their adventures ; 
 described and set forth in emblematical pictures 
 by Boetius of Bolswaert. 
 
 This is a translation of the title of a work in Dutch, 
 published in 1627, and afterward translated into French. 
 A few years ago some ignoramus saw a copy of the work, 
 and from a fancied resemblance in some of the cuts, took 
 it to be the original of the Pilgrim's Progress ; and through 
 the newspapers straightway enlightened the world with 
 the discovery that Bunyan was not the author but merely 
 the translator of his Pilgrim; and this in face of the facts 
 that the figures represented in the cuts of the Dutch book 
 were all females, and that Bunyan did not understand a 
 word of any language than his own. Dr. Southey gives 
 an abstract of this work, (which was never translated into 
 English,) showing that it has no resemblance to Bunyan's. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Passe to the New Jerusalem : 
 or the serious Christian his enquiries after hea- 
 ven. 12mo. Lond. 1659. 
 
 A collection of seven meditations on different pas. 
 
APPENDIX. 341 
 
 sages of Scripture ; the first of which is called " Abra- 
 ham's profession and the pilgrim's condition : or the enqui- 
 ring sojourner directed : a meditation on Gen.xxiii, 4." 
 
 The Pilgrim's Guide from his Cradle to his 
 Death-bed, with his glorious Passage from 
 thence to the New Jerusalem, represented to 
 the Life in a delightful new Allegory, wherein 
 the Christian Traveller is more fully and plainly 
 directed, than yet ever he hath been by any, in 
 the right and nearest Way to the celestial Para- 
 dise. By John Dunton, Rector of Aston-Clinton. 
 
 This work appeared a few years before the Pilgrim's 
 Progress. It was published by the author's son, the ec- 
 centric John Dunton, a well-known bookseller of that 
 day. It was for a time very popular, and went through 
 several impressions in a few months. In one of his cat- 
 alogues, (1685,) Dunton advertises the tenth edition of 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim, (the First Part,) price one shilling. 
 
 Bishop Patrick's once popular work, " The 
 Parable of the Pilgrim," was written about 
 the same time as Bunyan's, and appeared in 
 1672. Neither author therefore could have 
 borrowed anything from the other, as both books 
 were written before either was published. In- 
 dependently of this, the two works are exceed- 
 ingly diverse both in matter and spirit. 
 
 Note to page 310. 
 The site of Bunhill-fields cemetery was an- 
 ciently part of a fen or moor which lay on the 
 north side of London wall, and the original 
 condition of which is kept in memory by the 
 
342 APPENDIX, • 
 
 names of Moorfiel&s and Fensbury, (now Fins- 
 bury,) which a portion of it still bears. This 
 fen was first effectually drained in 1527. The 
 flags, sedges, and rushes with which it was 
 covered were removed, and part of the ground 
 was turned into pasture, and part used for city 
 lay-stalls. Three wind-mills were afterward 
 erected on the highest of the lay-stalls. At a 
 subsequent period the lay-stalls were removed, 
 and the fields laid out into pleasant walks. 
 
 There were three great fields appertaining to 
 the manor of Finsbury farm, which, in Queen 
 Elizabeth's time, were the usual place of resort, 
 for recreation and sports, of the plainer citizens. 
 They were called Bonhill Field, Mallow Field, 
 and the High Field. " Bonhill Field," accord- 
 ing to the survey of 1670, contained "twenty- 
 three acres, one rod, and six poles." During 
 the awful prevalence of the plague in 1665, 
 Bonhill, or as it is now called, Bunhill Field, 
 was made use of as a common place of inter- 
 ment for the victims of that dreadful scourge. 
 De Foe, speaking of this place in his fictitious 
 yet but too truthful " History of the Great 
 Plague," says, " I have heard that in a g^eat pit 
 in Finsbury, in the parish of Cripplegate, it 
 lying then open to the fields, for it was not then 
 walled about, many who were affected, and near 
 their end, and delirious also, ran, wrapped in 
 blankets or rugs, and threw themselves in and 
 expired .there, before any earth could bej^irown 
 
# APPENDIX. 343 
 
 upon them. When they came to bury others, 
 and found them there, they were quite dead, 
 though not. cold." 
 
 When the plague was over, the " great pit in 
 Finsbury " was ♦ enclosed with a brick wall, at 
 the charge of the city of London. The con- 
 venience of the site recommended it to the 
 notice of some of the leading metropolitan dis- 
 senters, who soon afterward took a lease of it 
 as a burial-place for their friends, and it has 
 ever since been a source of large pecuniary 
 profit to the city. 
 
 The remains of many eminent divines and 
 of other distinguished persons, and of tens of 
 thousands of private individuals, have found 
 their resting-place in Bunhill Fields burying- 
 ground. The first person of note interred there 
 was Dr. Thomas Goodwin, the Independent 
 minister who attended Cromwell on his death- 
 bed. He died in February, 1669, aged eighty 
 years. After him came the learned Dr. Owen. 
 He was Vice Chancellor of Oxford, during 
 Cromwell's administration ; and after the resto- 
 ration was offered a bishopric, which he refused. 
 He died- in 1683, aged sixty-seven. Bunyan 
 followed in 1688. Two years afterward, the 
 remains of George Fox, the founder of the 
 Society of Friends, were deposited in this 
 ground. He died at the age of sixty-six. 
 Here alsp*was buried Whitehead,- the Quaker, 
 whose autobiography has been the means of 
 
3-14 APPENDIX. 
 
 preserving the true account of Bunyan's re^ 
 lease from prison. In 1731 Bunhill Fields re- 
 ceived the remains of Daniel De Foe ; so that 
 the authors of the two most popular books in the 
 language — the Pilgrim's Progress and Robin- 
 son Crusoe — were buried within a few feet of 
 each other. There, too, lies all that was mortal 
 of Susannah Wesley, widow of the rector of 
 Epworth, and mother of John and Charles 
 Wesley; she died in 1742, aged seventy-three 
 years. Dr. Watts, the Christian psalmist, whose 
 sacred poetry is sung in all Protestant churches, 
 was buried here in 1742. His tomb is the best 
 preserved in the whole ground. 
 
 Bunhill Fields is now nearly in the heart of 
 the city of London, and covered with buildings, 
 except the burying-ground, the entrance to 
 which is in the City-Road, directly opposite the 
 Wesleyan Chapel. The cut on page 308 gi' es 
 a view of that portion of the cemetery in which 
 Bunyan's tomb is contained. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 
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