Chapter 14

About this time the state and happiness of these poor people at Bedford was thus, in a kind of a vision, presented to me. I saw as if they were on the sunny side of some high mountain, there refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams of the sun, whilst I was shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark clouds. Methought also, between me and them I saw a wall that did compass about this mountain. Now, through this mountain 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 prying 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 door-way 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 was I exceeding glad, and went and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted with the light and heat of their sun.

Now, this mountain and wall, etc., 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 that which did make separation betwixt 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 wonderful 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 and 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 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 distress;" for as yet I knew not where I was.

Neither as yet could I attain to any comfortahle persuasion that I had faith in Christ; hut instead of having satisfaction here, I began to find my soul to be assaulted with fresh doubts about my future happiness; especially with such as these: "Whether I was elected;" "But how if the day of grace should be past and gone?"

Now was I in great distress, thinking in very deed that this might well be so: wherefore I went up and down bemoaning my sad condition; counting myself far worse than a thousand fools for standing off thus long, and spending so many years in sin as I had done; still crying out, "O that I had turned sooner! O that I had turned seven years ago!" It made me also angry with myself to think that I should have no more wit but to trifle away my time till my soul and heaven were lost.

But when I had been long vexed with this fear, and was scarce able to take one step more, these words broke in upon my mind: "Compel them to come in, that my house may he filled; and yet there is room." These words, but especially these, "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 moreover, that when the Lord Jesus spake these words, he did then think of me; and that he knowing that the time would come that I should be afflicted with fear that there was no place left for me in his bosom, did before speak this word and leave it upon record, that I might find help thereby against this vile temptation.

How lovely now in my eyes were all those 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. Oh, I saw the lot was fallen to them in pleasant places, and they had a goodly heritage. But that which made me sick, was that of Christ in Mark 3:13, "He went up into a mountain, and called unto him whom he would; and they came unto him." This scripture made me faint and fear, yet it kindled fire in my soul. That which made me fear was this, lest Christ should have no liking to me; for he called "whom he would." But Oh, the glory that I saw in that condition did still so engage my heart, that I could seldom read of any that Christ did call; but I presently wished, "Would I had been 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 them, how would I have cried, 'O Lord, call me also.'" But Oh, I feared he would not call me.

FEARS ABOUT ELECTION

Before thou canst know whether thou art elected, thou must believe in Jesus Christ so really, that by thy faith there shall be life begotten in thy soul--life from the condemning of the law; life from the guilt of sin; life over its filth; life also to walk with God in his Son and ways; the life of love to God the Father, to Jesus Christ his Son, to his saints, and to his ways, because they are holy, harmless, and altogether contrary to iniquity.

YOUNG CONVERTS

In young converts, hope and distrust, or a degree of despair, do work and answer one another as doth the noise of the balance of the watch in the pocket. Life and death is always the motion of the mind then; and this noise continues until faith is stronger grown, and until the soul is better acquainted with the methods and ways of God with a sinner. Yea, was but a carnal man in a convert's heart, and could see, he should discern these two, to wit, hope and fear, to have a continual motion in the soul--wrestling and opposing one another as do light and darkness, in striving for the victory.

And hence it is that you find such people so fickle and uncertain in their spirits; now on the mount, then in the valleys; now in the sunshine, then in the shade; now warm, then frozen; now bonny and blithe, then in a moment pensive and sad, as thinking of a portion nowhere but in hell.

In the general, all the days of our pilgrimage here are evil; yea, every day has a sufficiency of evil in it to destroy the best saint that breatheth, were it not for the grace of God. But there are also particular specious times, times more eminently dangerous and hazardous unto saints. As,

1. There are their young days, the days of their youth and childhood in grace. This day is usually attended with much evil towards him or them that are asking the way to Zion with their faces thitherward. Now the devil has lost a sinner; there is a captive has broke prison, and one run away from his master; now hell seems to be awakened from sleep; the devils are come out, they roar, and roaring they seek to recover their runaway; they tempt him, threaten him, flatter him, stigmatize him, throw dust in his eyes, poison him with errors, spoil him while he is upon the potter's wheel; any thing to keep him from coming to Jesus Christ. And is not this a needy time? Doth not such a one want abundance of grace? Is it not of absolute necessity that thou, if thou art the man thus beset, shouldst ply it at the throne of grace for mercy and grace to keep thee in such a time of need as this?

To want a spirit of prayer now, is as much as thy life is worth. Oh, therefore, you that know what I say, you that are broke loose from hell, that are fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before you, and that do hear the lion roar after you, and that are kept awake with the continual voice of his chinking chain, cry as you fly; yea, the promise is, that they that come to God with weeping, with supplication, he will lead them.

Well, this is one needy time; now thy hedge is low, now thy branch is tender, now thou art but in the bud. Pray that thou be not marred in the potter's hand.

XII. THE CHRISTIAN DESCRIBED

HAPPINESS OF THE CHRISTIAN

O HOW happy is he who is not only a visible, but also an invisible saint! He shall not be blotted out the book of God's eternal grace and mercy.

DIGNITY OF THE CHRISTIAN

There are a generation of men in the world, that count themselves men of the largest capacities, when yet the greatest of their desires lift themselves no higher than to things below. If they can with their net of craft and policy encompass a bulky lump of earth, Oh, what a treasure have they engrossed to themselves!

Meanwhile, the man who comes to God by Christ, has laid siege to heaven, has found out the way to get into the city, and is resolved, in and by God's help, to make that his own. Earth is a drossy thing in this man's account; earthly greatness and splendors are but like vanishing bubbles in this man's esteem. None but God as the end of his desires, none but Christ as the means to accomplish this his end, are things counted great by this man. No company now is acceptable to this man, but the Spirit of God, Christ, angels and saints, as fellow-heirs with himself. All other men and things, he deals with as strangers and pilgrims were wont to do. This man's mind soars higher than the eagle, or stork of the heavens. He is for musing about things that are above and their glory, and for thinking what shall come to pass hereafter.

Is it so, that coming to Christ is by the Father? Then this should teach us to set a high esteem upon them that are indeed coming to Jesus Christ, for the sake of him by virtue of whose grace they are made to come to Jesus Christ.

We see that when men, by the help of human abilities, do arrive at the knowledge of, and bring to pass that which, when done, is a wonder to the world, how he that did it is esteemed and commended. Yea, how are his wits, parts, industry, and unweariedness in all, admired; and yet the man, as to this, is but of the world; and his work the effect of natural ability. The things also attained by him, end in vanity and vexation of spirit. Further, perhaps, in the pursuit of these his achievements, he sins against God, wastes his time vainly, and at long run loses his soul by neglecting of better things. Yet he is admired.

But, I say, if this man's parts, labor, diligence, and the like, will bring him to such esteem in the world, what esteem should we have of such a one that is, by the gift, promise, and power of God, coming to Jesus Christ?

1. This is the man with whom God is, in whom God works and walks--a man, whose motion is governed and steered by the mighty hand of God, and the effectual working of his power. Here is a man!

2. This man, by the power of God's might which worketh in him, is able to cast a whole world behind him, with all the lusts and pleasures of it, and to charge through all the difficulties that men and devils can set against him. Here is a man!

3. This man is travelling "to mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God; and to an innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect, to God the judge of all, and to Jesus." Here is a man!

4. This man can look upon death with comfort, can laugh at destruction when it cometh, and long to hear the sound of the last trump, and to see the Judge coming in the clouds of heaven. Here is a man, indeed!

We pass through a threefold state from nature to glory; the state of grace in this life, the state of felicity in paradise, and our state in glory after the resurrection.

They are all kings that go to that world, and so shall be proclaimed there. They shall also be crowned with crowns, and they shall wear crowns of life and glory, crowns of everlasting joy, crowns of loving-kindness.

The coming man, the man that comes to God by Christ, if his way, all his way thither were strewed with burning coals, would choose, God helping him, to tread that path rather than to have his portion with them that perish.

"The angel of the Lord encampeth about them that fear him, and delivereth them." This, therefore, is a glorious privilege of the men that fear the Lord. Alas, they are some of them so mean, that they are counted not worth taking notice of by the high ones of the world; but their betters do respect them: the angels of God count not themselves too good to attend on them, and camp about them to deliver them. This then is the man that hath his angel to wait on him, even he that feareth the Lord.

It is said, that when the church is "fair as the sun, and clear as the moon," she is "terrible as an army with banners." The presence of godly Samuel made the elders of Bethlehem tremble; yea, when Elisha was sought for by the king of Syria, he durst not engage him but with chariots and horses, a heavy host. Godliness is a wonderful thing; it commandeth reverence, and the stooping of the spirit, even of the ungodly ones.

Godliness puts such a majesty and dread upon the professors of it, that their enemies are afraid of them; yea, even then when they rage against them, and lay heavy afflictions upon them. It is marvellous to see in what fear the ungodly are, even of godly men and godliness; in that they stir up the mighty, make edicts against them, yea, and raise up armies, and what else can be imagined, to suppress them; while the persons thus opposed, if you consider them as to their state and capacity in this world, are the most inconsiderable--but as a dead dog or a flea. O, but they are clothed with godliness; the image and presence of God is upon them. This makes the beasts of this world afraid. "One of you shall chase a thousand."

The ornament and beauty of this lower world, next to God and his wonders, are the men that spangle and shine in godliness.

THE FAMILY IN HEAVEN AND EARTH

"The whole family in heaven, and earth." The difference betwixt us and them is, not that we are really two, but one body in Christ, in divers places. True, we are below stairs, and they above; they in their holiday, and we in our working-day clothes; they in harbor, but we in the storm; they at rest, but we in the wilderness; they singing, as crowned with joy, we crying, as crowned with thorns. But we are all of one house, one family, and are all the children of one Father.

FEEBLENESS OF THE CHRISTIAN

Israel, as the child of God, is a pitiful thing of himself; one that is full of weaknesses, infirmities, and defects, should we speak nothing of his transgressions. He that is to be attended with so many mercies, absolutely necessary mercies, must needs be in himself a poor indigent creature. Should you see a child attended with so many engines to make him go, as the child of God is attended with mercies to make him stand, you would say, "What an infirm, decrepid, helpless thing is this!" Would you not say, "Such a one is not worth the keeping, and his father cannot look for any thing from him, but that he should live upon high charge and expense, as long as he liveth?" Why, this is the case. Israel is such a one, nay, a worse: he cannot live without tender mercy, without great mercy, without rich mercy, without manifold mercy. He cannot stand, if mercy doth not compass him round about, nor go, unless mercy follows him. Yea, if mercy that rejoiceth against judgment doth not continually flutter over him, the very moth will eat him up, the canker will consume him.

THE CHRISTIAN UNDER A SENSE OF GUILT--BUNYAN'S EXPERIENCE

I had no sooner began to recall to my mind my former experience of the goodness of God to my soul, but there came flocking into my mind an innumerable company of my sins and transgressions; amongst which these were at this time most to my affliction, namely, my deadness, dulness, and coldness in holy duties; my wanderings of heart, my wearisomeness in all good things, and my want of love to God, his ways, and his people, with this at the end of all: "Are these the fruits of Christianity? Are these the tokens of a blessed man?" Now, I sunk and fell in my spirit, and was giving up all for lost; but, as I was walking up and down in the house, as a man in a most woful state, that word of God took hold of my heart, "Ye are justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ." But Oh, what a turn it made upon me.

Now was I as one awakened out of some troublesome sleep and dream; and listening to this heavenly sentence, I was as if I had heard it thus spoken to me: "Sinner, thou thinkest that, because of thy sins and infirmities, I cannot save thy soul; but behold, my Son is by me, and upon him I look, and not on thee, and shall deal with thee according as I am pleased with him." At this I was greatly enlightened in my mind, and made to understand that God could justify a sinner at any time; it was but his looking upon Christ, and imputing his benefits to us, and the work was forthwith done.

And as I was thus in a muse, that scripture also came with great power upon my spirit, "Not by works of righteousness that we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us." 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 death was lovely and beautiful in my sight, for I saw we should never live indeed till we reach the other world. Oh, methought, this life is but a slumber, in comparison of that above. At this time also I saw more in these words, "heirs of God," 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 wondered at, but cannot tell you what I saw.

Sometimes I have been so loaded with my sins, that I could not tell where to rest nor what to do; and at such times I thought it would have taken away my senses; but God, through grace, hath so effectually applied the atonement of Jesus to my poor wounded, guilty conscience, and I have found such a sweet, solid, sober, heart-comforting peace, that it hath made me rejoice exceedingly; and I have for a time been in a strait and trouble, that I should love and honor him no more, the virtue of whose blood hath so comforted my soul.

My sins have at times appeared so great, that I have thought one of them as heinous as all the sins of all the men in the world. Reader, these things are not fancies, for I have smarted for this experience; yet the least believing view of the blood of Jesus hath made my guilt vanish to my astonishment, and delivered me into sweet and heavenly peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.

Sometimes when my heart hath been hard, slothful, blind, and senseless--which are sad frames for a poor Christian--then hath the precious blood of Christ softened, enlivened, quickened, and enlightened my soul.

When I have been loaded with sin and harassed with temptations, I had a trial of the virtue of Christ's blood, with a trial of the virtue of other things; and I have found that when tears, prayers, repentings, and all other things could not reach my heart, one shining of the virtue of his blood hath in a very blessed manner delivered me. It hath come with such life and power, with such irresistible and marvellous glory, as to wipe off all the slurs, silence all the outcries, and quench all the fiery darts and flames of hell-fire, that are begotten by the charges of the law, Satan, and doubtful remembrances of a sinful life.

SIN AND THE SAVIOUR.

Saints are sweetly sensible that the sense of sin and the assurance of pardon will make famous work in their poor hearts. Ah, what meltings without guilt; what humility without casting down; and what a sight of the creature's nothingness, yet without fear, will this sense of sin work in the soul. The sweetest frame, the most heart-endearing frame that possibly a Christian can get into while in this world, is to have a warm sight of sin and of a Saviour upon the heart at one time. Now it weeps not for fear and through torment, but by virtue of constraining grace and mercy, and is at this very time so far off of disquietness of heart by reason of the sight of its wickedness, that it is driven into an ecstasy by reason of the love and mercy that is mingled with the sense of sin in the soul. The heart never sees so much of the power of mercy as now, nor of the virtue, value, and excellency of Christ in all his offices, as now; and the tongue is never so sweetly enlarged to proclaim and cry up grace as now: now will Christ come to be glorified in his saints and admired in them that believe.

Dost thou see in thee all manner of wickedness? The best way that I can direct a soul in such a case, is to place a steadfast eye on Him that is full, and so to look to him by faith as that thereby thou mayest draw his fulness into thy heart.

The best saints are most sensible of their sins, and most apt to make mountains of their molehills.

THE CHRISTIAN IN DARKNESS.

I know it is dreadful walking in darkness; but if that should be the Lord's lot upon me, I pray God I may have faith enough to stay upon him till death; and then will the clouds blow over, and I shall see him in the light of the living.

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

Then they went on again, and their conductor did go before them, till they came to a place where was cast up a pit the whole breadth of the way; and before they could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and a darkness fell upon them so that they could not see. Then said the pilgrims, "Alas, what now shall we do?" But their guide made answer, "Fear not; stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also." So they staid there, because their path was marred. Then they also thought they did hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies; the fire also and smoke of the pit was much easier to be discerned. Then said Christiana to Mercy, "Now I see what my poor husband went through; I have heard much of this place, but I never was here before now. Poor man! he went here all alone in the night; he had night almost quite through the way; also these fiends were busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none can tell what the Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean until they come in themselves. The 'heart knoweth its own bitterness; a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy.' To be here is a fearful thing."

"This," said Mr. Greatheart, "is like doing business in great waters, or like going down into the deep; this is like being in the heart of the sea, and like going down to the bottom of the mountains; now it seems as if the earth with its bars were about us for ever. But let them that walk in darkness and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their God. For my part, I have often gone through this valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am; and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that I am not my own saviour; but I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for light to Him that can lighten our darkness, and can rebuke not only these, but all the devils in hell." So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliverance.

THE CHRISTIAN DOUBTING.

It is a rare thing for some Christians to see their graces, but a thing very common for such to see their sins, yea, and to feel them too in their lusts and desires, to the shaking of their souls.

QUESTION. But since I have lusts and desires both ways, how shall I know to which my soul adheres?

ANSWER. This may be known thus: