Chapter 13

Bunyan had formed his ideas of prayer from heartfelt experience; it is the cry of the burthened, sinking sinner, ‘Lord save us, we perish’; or adoration rising from the heart to the throne of grace, filled with hopes of pardon and immortality. In his estimation, any form of human invention was an interference with the very nature of prayer, and with the work of the Holy Spirit, who alone can inspire our souls with acceptable prayer.

In expressing his views upon this all-important subject, Bunyan was simply guided by a sense of duty. Fear of the consequences, or of offending his enemies, never entered his mind. He felt that they were in the hands of his heavenly Father, and that all their malice must be over-ruled for good. Notwithstanding his solemn warning not to speak irreverently of the book, his refusal to use which had subjected him to severe privations and the fear of a halter, this Christian hero was not daunted, but gives his opinion of it with all that freedom and liberty which he considered essential to excite in his fellow-men inquiries as to its origin and imposition.

It is not my province to enter into the controversy whether in public worship a form of prayer ought to be used. Let every one be persuaded in his own mind; but to pass a law denouncing those that refuse to use a prescribed form as worthy of imprisonment, transportation, or death, is an attack upon the first principles of Christianity. To punish those who spoke irreverently of it, was almost an acknowledgment that it would not bear investigation. To speak of the book as in his serious judgment it deserved, was not that mark of sectarianism which Romaine exhibited when he called the beautiful hymns of Dr. Watts, which are used so much in public worship among Dissenters, ‘Watts’ jingle,’ and ‘Watts’ whims!’[248] No answer appears to have been published to Bunyan’s extremely interesting volume until twelve years after the author’s death, when a reply appeared under the title of Liturgies Vindicated by the Dissenters, or the Lawfulness of Forms of Prayer proved against John Bunyan and the Dissenters. 1700. This is a very rare and curious volume. The author, as usual in such controversies, deals wholesale in invective, and displays all the ability of a sophist.

The Christian world is indebted to Dr. Cheever for a beautiful picture of Bunyan’s devotional exercise in his cell. ‘It is evening; he finishes his work, to be taken home by his dear blind child. He reads a portion of Scripture, and, clasping her small hands in his, kneels on the cold stone floor, and pours out his soul to God; then, with a parting kiss, dismisses her to her mother. The rude lamp glimmers on the table; with his Bible, pen, and paper, he writes as though joy did make him write. His face is lighted as from the radiant jasper walls of the celestial city. He clasps his hands, looks upward, and blesses God for his goodness. The last you see of him—is alone, kneeling on the prison floor; he is alone with God.’

Charles Doe, who manifested most laudable anxiety to hand down the works of Bunyan to posterity, bears honourable testimony to his conduct while in prison. ‘It was by making him a visit in prison that I first saw him, and became acquainted with him; and I must profess I could not but look upon him to be a man of an excellent spirit, zealous for his master’s honour, and cheerfully committing all his own concernments unto God’s disposal. When I was there, there were about sixty Dissenters besides himself there, taken but a little before at a religious meeting at Kaistoe, in the county of Bedford; besides two eminent Dissenting ministers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dun (both very well known in Bedfordshire, though long since with God[249]), by which means the prison was very much crowded; yet, in the midst of all that hurry which so many new-comers occasioned, I have heard Mr. Bunyan both preach and pray with that mighty spirit of faith and plerophory of divine assistance that has made me stand and wonder.’[250] Here they could sing, without fear of being overheard; no informers prowling round. The world was shut out; and, in communion with heaven, they could forget their sorrows, and have a rich foretaste of the inconceivable glory of the celestial city. It was under such circumstances that Bunyan preached one of his most remarkable sermons, afterwards published under the title of The Holy City or the New Jerusalem, 1665. ‘Upon a certain first-day, being together with my brethren in our prison-chamber, they expected that, according to our custom, something should be spoken out of the Word for our mutual edification. I felt myself, it being my turn to speak, so empty, spiritless, and barren, that I thought I should not have been able to speak among them so much as five words of truth with life and evidence. At last I cast mine eye upon this prophecy, when, after considering awhile, methought I perceived something of that jasper in whose light you find this holy city descended; wherefore, having got some dim glimmering thereof, and finding a desire to see farther thereinto, I with a few groans did carry my meditations to the Lord Jesus for a blessing, which he did forthwith grant, and helping me to set before my brethren, we did all eat, and were well refreshed; and behold, also, that while I was in the distributing of it, it so increased in my hand, that of the fragments that we left, after we had well dined, I gathered up this basketful. Wherefore, setting myself to a more narrow search, through frequent prayer, what first with doing and then with undoing, and after that with doing again, I thus did finish it.’[251] To this singular event the religious public are indebted for one of Bunyan’s ablest treatises, full of the striking sparkles of his extraordinary imagination. It was a subject peculiarly adapted to display his powers—the advent of New Jerusalem, her impregnable walls and gates of precious stones, golden streets, water of life, temple, and the redeemed from all nations flocking into it.[252]

In these times of severe persecution, two of the church members, S. Fenn and J. Whiteman, were ordained joint pastors. Fenn has just been delivered out of prison; yet they ventured to brave the storm, and in this year, although the lions prowled before the porch, a number were added to the church. Thus was their little Jerusalem built ‘even in troublous times.’

Bunyan’s popularity and fame for wisdom and knowledge had spread all round the country, and it naturally brought him visitors, with their doubts, and fears, and cases of conscience. Among these a singular instance is recorded in the Life of Badman. ‘When I was in prison,’ says the narrator, ‘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, and pray, says she, tell me what I shall do? I told her I would have her go to her master, and make him satisfaction. She said she was afraid lest he should hang her. I told her that I would intercede for her life, and would make use of other friends to do the like; but she told me she durst not venture that. Well, said 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 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; and I never saw here again.’[253] He adds, ‘I could tell you of another, that came to me with a like relation concerning herself, and the robbing of her mistress.’

To his cruel imprisonment the world is indebted for the most surprising narrative of a new birth that has ever appeared. It was there that he was led to write the Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. He displays in the preface his deep interest in the spiritual welfare of those who had been born under his ministry. He rejoices in their happiness, even while he was ‘sticking between the teeth of the lions in the wilderness. I now again, as before from the top of shenir and Hermon, so now from the lions’ dens, from “the mountains of the leopards,” do look yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired haven.’[254] How natural it was that, while narrating his own experience, he should be led to write a guide to pilgrims through time to eternity, and that it should be dated from ‘the den!’

‘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.’[255]

Any one possessing powers of imagination, to whom the adventures of Christian are familiar, would, on reading the Grace Abounding, be continually struck with the likeness there drawn of the pilgrim—the more he contemplates the two pictures of Christian experience, so much the more striking is their similarity. The one is a narrative of facts, the other contains the same facts allegorized. Thus, by an irresistible impulse from heaven upon the mind of a prisoner for Christ, did a light shine forth from the dungeon on Bedford bridge which has largely contributed to enlighten the habitable globe. The Pilgrim has been translated into most of the languages and dialects of the world. The Caffrarian and Hottentot, the enlightened Greek and Hindoo, the remnant of the Hebrew race, the savage Malay and the voluptuous Chinese—all have the wondrous narrative in their own languages. Bunyan was imprisoned by bigots and tyrants, to prevent his being heard or known; and his voice, in consequence, reaches to the ends of the earth. Let every wretched persecutor contemplate this instance of God’s over-ruling power. You will surely plunge the avenging sword into your own vitals if, by persecution, you vainly endeavour to wound the saints of the living God. You may make hypocrites throw off their disguise. The real Christian may be discouraged, but he perseveres. He feels the truth of Bunyan’s quaint saying, ‘the persecutors are but the devil’s scarecrows, the old one himself lies quat’; while the eye of God is upon him to save the children of Zion.[256] His otherwise dreary imprisonment was lightened, and the time beguiled by these delightful writings. His fellow-prisoners were benefited by hearing him read his pilgrim’s adventures. But this has been so fully displayed in the introduction to the Pilgrim that any further notice is unnecessary.[257]

While busily occupied with his Grace Abounding and Pilgrim’s Progress, he wrote a poetical epistle in answer to the kind inquiries of his numerous friends and visitors. After thanking them for counsel and advice, he describes his feelings in prison. His feet stood on Mount Zion; his body within locks and bars, while his mind was free to study Christ, and elevated higher than the stars. Their fetters could not tame his spirit, nor prevent his communion with God. The more his enemies raged, the more peace he experienced. In prison he received the visits of saints, of angels, and the Spirit of God. ‘I have been able to laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider. I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another world.’[258] If his ears were to be pierced in the pillory, it would be only ‘to hang a jewel there.’ The source of his happy feelings is well expressed in one of the stanzas:—

‘The truth and I were both here cast Together, and we do Lie arm in arm, and so hold fast Each other; this is true.’[259]

Yes, honest John Bunyan, the world at large now gives you credit for the truth of that saying.

How strange must it seem to the luxurious worldling, with his bed of down and splendid hangings, but aching heart, to hear of the exquisite happiness of the prisoner for Christ on his straw pallet! ‘When God makes the bed,’ as Bunyan says, ‘he must needs be easy that is cast thereon; a blessed pillow hath that man for his head, though to all beholders it is hard as a stone.’[260] In the whole course of his troubles, he enjoyed the sympathy of his family and friends. his food was brought daily, and such was the veneration in which his memory was embalmed, that the very jug in which his broth was taken to the prison has been preserved to this day.[261]

In the midst of all his sufferings he murmurs not nor for a moment gives way to revenge; he leaves the persecutor in the hands of God. Stand off, Christian; pity the poor wretch that brings down upon himself the vengeance of God. Your pitiful arm must no strike him—no, stand by, ‘that God may have his full blow at him in his time. Wherefore he saith avenge not yourself—“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.” Give place, leave such an one to be handled by me.’[262]

‘There are several degrees of suffering for righteousness—the scourge of the tongue, the ruin of an estate, the loss of liberty, a gaol, a gibbet, a stake, a dagger. Now answerable to these are the comforts of the Holy Ghost, prepared like to like, part proportioned to part, only the consolations are said to abound.’[263] The mind of Bunyan was imbued with these sentiments; baptized into them, and consequently elevated far above the fear of what man could do unto him. Yes, he knew the power of God. ‘He can make those things that in themselves are most fearful and terrible to behold, the most delightful and most desirable things. He can make a gaol more beautiful than a palace, restraint more sweet by far than liberty, and the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt.’[264]

The Bible, that heavenly storehouse, was opened to him: ‘I never had, in all my life, so great an inlet into the Word of God as now.’[265] ‘I have had sweet sights of forgiveness and of the heavenly Jerusalem. I have seen here that which, while in this world, I shall never be able to express.’

About a year before he was set at liberty he received a very popular work, written by Edward Fowler, a Bedfordshire clergyman, who was soon after elevated to the see of Gloucester. It was entitled The Design of Christianity, and professed to prove that the object of the Saviour was merely to place man in a similar position to that of Adam before the fall. It is an extremely learned production, full of Greek and Latin quotations; but, in Bunyan’s estimation, it aimed a deadly blow at the foundations of Christianity. To restore man to Adam’s innocency, and then to leave him to cope with Satanic subtlety, was to cut off all hopes of salvation. It was brought to him in February 1672, and in the very short period of forty-two days, Fowler’s theory was most completely demolished by Bunyan’s Defence of the Doctrine of Justification, 4to, dated from prison, the 27th of the 12th Month, 1671 (27th March, 1672). This was answered by a small 4to volume, entitled Dirt Wiped Off. Bunyan had used some harsh epithets; but the clergyman, or his curate, beat the tinker in abusive language. He had been by this time promoted to the rectory of Cripplegate. For an account of this controversy, the reader is referred to the introduction to Bunyan’s work on Justification, and to that to the Pilgrim’s Progress.[266] The impression it made upon the public mind is well expressed in a rude rhyme, made by an anonymous author, in his Assembly of Moderate Divines:

‘There’s a moderate Doctour at Cripplegate dwells, Whom Smythes his curate in trimming excells; But Bunyan a tinker hath tickled his gills.’

The last work that he wrote in prison was the confession of his faith, and reason of his practice as to mixed communion, not with the world, but with saints of other denominations. As this plunged him into a fearful controversy with his Dissenting brethren (Baptists, Independents, and Presbyterians), a notice of it will more properly be introduced in our account of that conflict. He had been incarcerated nearly twelve years, and had determined to suffer to the end. Here he found time ‘to weigh, and pause, and pause again, the grounds and foundations of those principles for which he suffered,’ and he was a Nonconformist still. ‘I cannot, I dare not now revolt or deny my principles, on pain of eternal damnation,’[267] are his impressive words. ‘Faith and holiness are my professed principles, with an endeavour to be at peace with all men. 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. If nothing will do unless I make of my conscience a continual butchery and slaughter-shop, unless putting out my own eyes, I commit me to the blind to lead me, I have determined, the Almighty God being my help and shield, yet to suffer, if frail life might continue so long, even until the moss shall grow over mine eye-brows, rather than to violate my faith and principles.’[268] The allusion to moss growing on his eye-brows most probably referred to the damp state of his den or dungeon.

The continuation to the Grace Abounding, written by a friend, and published four years after his decease, divides his imprisonment into three periods; but as Bunyan makes it one continued imprisonment, there can be no doubt but that it was a long, dreary confinement; during which the testimony of his friend, Samuel Wilson, is, that it was ‘an uncomfortable and close prison, and sometimes under cruel and oppressive jailers.’ The division into three parts most probably alludes to the severity or liberality of his jailers. He had at times, while a prisoner, an extraordinary degree of liberty; like Joseph in Egypt, some of his jailers committed all to his hands. There can be little doubt but that he went from the prison to preach in the villages or woods, and at one time went to London to visit his admiring[269] friends; but this coming to the ears of the justices, the humane jailer had well nigh lost his place, and for some time he was not permitted to look out at the door. When this had worn off, he had again opportunities of visiting his church and preaching by stealth. It is said that many of the Baptist congregations in Bedfordshire owe their origin to his midnight preaching.

Upon one occasion, having been permitted to go out and visit his family, with whom he intended to spend the night, long before morning he felt so uneasy that at a very late hour he went back to the prison. Information was given to a neighbouring clerical magistrate that there was strong suspicion of Bunyan having broke prison. At midnight, he sent a messenger to the jail, that he might be a witness against the merciful keeper. On his arrival, he demanded, ‘Are all the prisoners safe?’ the answer was, ‘Yes.’ ‘Is John Bunyan safe?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Let me see him.’ He was called up and confronted with the astonished witness, and all passed off well. His kind-hearted jailer said to him, ‘You may go out when you will, for you know much better when to return than I can tell you.’[270]

During these twelve terrible years, and particularly towards the end of his imprisonment, the members and elders of his church at Bedford suffered most severely, a very abridged account of which is given in the introduction to the Pilgrim’s Progress.[271] The set time for his liberation was now drawing near, but the singular means by which it was accomplished must be reserved for our next chapter.

PERIOD SIXTH.

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD’S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DECEASE AND CHARACTER.

As Charles II felt himself securely seated on his throne, his design to establish an absolute monarchy became more and more apparent. The adulation of his professed friends, and the noisy popularity with which he was greeted, appear to have fostered his crafty designs to rid himself of parliamentary government. His whole conduct was that of a Papist, who keeps no faith with Protestants; or of a statesman, whose religion, honour, and truthfulness, were wholly subservient to expediency. To further his object, he formed a council of five noblemen, two of whom were Roman Catholics, and the other three either careless as to religion or professed infidels. The first letter of their names formed the word CABAL. Aided by these he sought to extinguish liberty, and extirpate the Protestant faith.[272] To furnish himself with the means of indulging his unbridled passions, he, like a buccaneer, seized the Dutch merchantmen returning from India and Smyrna, without any declaration of war, and laid his hands upon all the money borrowed of his merchants which had been deposited in the exchequer. He then united himself with France to destroy Holland, the stronghold of liberty. To gratify the Roman Catholics, and conciliate the Dissenters, he issued a declaration in favour of liberty of conscience, the seal to which he afterwards broke with his own hands,[273] but he could not prevent a considerable degree of religious liberty arising from such vacillating conduct.