Chapter 16

The carping criticisms of Mr. Dunlop, in his History of Fiction, and of an author in the Penny Encyclopedia, are scarcely worth notice. The complaint is, want of benevolence in the hero of the tale. How singular it is, and what a testimony to its excellence, that an intelligent writer upon fictions should have been so overpowered with this spiritual narrative, as to confound it with temporal things. Christian leaves his wife and children, instead of staying with them, to be involved in destruction—all this relates to inward spiritual feelings, and to these only. Visited by compunctions of heart, Christian strives to inspire his wife and children with the same, but in vain; he attends solitarily to his spiritual state, taunted by his family, while, as to temporal things, he becomes a better husband and father than ever he was—but this is not prominent, because it is entirely foreign to the author’s object, which is to display the inward emotions of the new birth, the spiritual journey alone, apart from all temporal affairs. Multitudes read it as if it was really a dream, the old sleeping portrait confirming the idea. In the story, Christian most mysteriously embodies all classes of men, from the prince to the peasant—the wealthiest noble, or merchant, to the humbles mechanic or labourer—and it illustrates the most solemn, certain truth, that, with respect to the salvation of the soul, the poorest creature in existence is upon perfect equality with the lordly prelate, or magnificent emperor, with this word ringing in their ears, ‘the POOR have the gospel preached to them.’ The Grace Abounding, or Life of Bunyan, is a key to all the mysteries of The Pilgrim’s Progress, and Holy War.

Bunyan’s singular powers are those of description, not of invention. He had lived in the city of destruction—he had heard the distant threatening of the awful storm that was shortly to swallow it up in unutterable ruin—he had felt the load of sin, and rejoiced when it was rolled away before a crucified Saviour—he knew every step of the way, and before he had himself passed the black river, he had watched prayerfully over those who were passing, and when the gate of the city was opened to let them enter, he had strained his eyes to see their glory.

The purifying influence of The Pilgrim’s Progress may be traced in the writings of many imaginative authors. How does it in several parts beautify the admirable tale of Uncle Tom, and his Cabin. In that inimitable scene, the death of the lovely Eva, the distressed negro, watching with intense anxiety the progress of death, says, ‘When that blessed child goes into the kingdom, they’ll open the door so wide, we’ll all get a look in at the glory.’ Whence came this strange idea—not limited to the poor negro, but felt by thousands who have watched over departing saints? It comes from the entrance of Christian and Hopeful into the celestial city—‘I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun; the streets, also, were paved with gold, and in them they walked with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises, which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.’[299] How often has Bunyan’s wit sparkled in sermons, and even in speeches delivered in the senate. Recently, in a speech on the collation ministry, the following reference was introduced:—‘Mr. Facing-both-ways, of honest John Bunyan, is not a creature mankind can regard with any complacency; nor will they likely suffer any one to act with one party, and reserve his principles for another.’ It has also been strangely quoted in novel writing—thus in Bell’s Villette—visiting a God-mother in a pleasant retreat, is said ‘to resemble the sojourn of Christian and Hopeful, beside the pleasant stream, with green trees on each bank, and meadows beautified with lilies all the year round.’ It is marvelous that a picture of nature should have been so beautifully and strikingly described by an unlettered artisan, as to be used in embellishing an elegant novel, written nearly two centuries after his decease.[300]

The Pilgrim was followed by a searching treatise on The Fear of God. The value of this book led to its republication by the Tract Society, and 4000 copies have been circulated. It is a neat and acceptable volume, but why altered? and a psalm omitted.[301] Bunyan says, ‘Your great ranting, swaggering, roysters’; this is modernized into ‘Your ranting boasters.’[302] Then followed, the Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ. This was frequently reprinted, and hundreds of thousands have been circulated to benefit the world. His popularity increased with his years; efforts were made, but in vain, to steal him from his beloved charge at Bedford. ‘He hath refused a more plentiful income to keep his station,’ is the language of his surviving friend, Charles Doe. It is not surprising that he was thus tempted to leave his poor country church, for we are told by the same biographer, that ‘When Mr. Bunyan preached in London, if there were but one day’s notice given, there would be more people come together to hear him preach, than the meeting-house could hold. I have seen to hear him preach, by my computation, about 1200 at a morning lecture, by seven o’clock, on a working day, in the dark winter time. I also computed about 3000 that came to hear him one Lord’s-day, at London, 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 people to get up stairs to his pulpit.’ This took place in a large meeting-house, erected in Zoar Street, either on the site or near the Globe Theatre, Southwark.[303] On this spot, the prince of dramatists amused and corrupted crowded houses; while in the immediate vicinity were the stews and bear garden, frequented by libertines of the lowest caste. One Sunday, in 1582, many were killed or miserably wounded while attending the brutal sport of bear-baiting. Here, in the heart of Satan’s empire, the prince of allegorists attracted multitudes, to be enlightened by his natural eloquence, and to be benefited by the fruits of his prolific and vivid imagination, at all times curbed and directed by the holy oracles. It was a spacious building, covering about 2000 feet of ground (50 by 40), with three galleries, quite capable of holding the number computed by Mr. Doe. We have, from correct drawings, furnished our subscribers with the plan and elevation of this ancient meeting-house. Having preached with peculiar warmth and enlargement, one of his friends took him by the hand, and could not help observing what a sweet sermon he had delivered; ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘you need not remind me of that, for the devil told me of it before I was out of the pulpit!’[304] Amongst his hearers were to be found the learned and the illiterate. It was well known that Dr. John Owen, when he had the opportunity, embraced it with pleasure, and sat at the feet of the unlearned, but eloquent tinker. Charles II, hearing of it, asked the learned D.D., ‘How a man of his great erudition could sit to hear a tinker preach?’ to which the doctor replied, ‘May it please your Majesty, if I could possess the tinker’s abilities, I would gladly give in exchange all my learning.’

He now pictured the downward road of the sinner to the realms of death and darkness in the Life of Badman. This was published in 1680, and is written in a language which fraudulent tradesmen at that period could not misunderstand; using terms now obsolete or vulgar. It is full of anecdotes, which reveal the state of the times, as superlatively immoral, and profane. He incidentally notices that a labourer received eightpence or tenpence per day.[305] At that time, bread and all the necessaries of life, excepting meat, were dearer than they are at present. In fact, our days are much happier for the poor than any preceding ones in British history. Bunyan’s notions of conscientious dealing, will make all traders who read them—blush.[306]

November 12, 1681, Bunyan’s friend and fellow-labourer Samuel Fenn, was removed from this world, and in the following year persecution raged severely. The church was, for a season, driven from the meeting-house, and obliged to assemble in the fields. The Word of the Lord was precious in those days.

In 1682, while surrounded by persecution, he prepared and published his most profound and beautiful allegory, The Holy War, made by Shaddai upon Diabolus, for the Regaining of the Metropolis of the World; or, The Losing and Taking again the Town of Mansoul.[307] The frontispiece is the most accurate likeness of Bunyan that is extant; it is engraved by White, from a drawing, also by him, now preserved in the print department of the British Museum. From this drawing, carefully compared with the print, we have furnished the expressive likeness which forms the frontispiece to this volume. It has also a correct whole-length portrait, with emblematical devices. This exceedingly beautiful and most finished allegory has never been so popular as The Pilgrim’s Progress, for reasons which are shown in the introduction to The Holy War.[308] The whole narrative of this wondrous war appears to flow as naturally as did that of the pilgrimage from the highly imaginative mind of the author. Man, in his innocence, attracts the notice and hatred of Apollyon. Nothing could be accomplished by force—all by subtlety and deceit. He holds a council of war—selects his officers—approaches—parleys, and gains admittance—then fortifies the town against its king—Immanuel determines to recover it—vast armies, under appropriate leaders, surround the town, and attack every gate. The ear is garrisoned by Captain Prejudice and his deaf men. But he who rides forth conquering and to conquer is victorious. All the pomp, and parade, and horrors of a siege are as accurately told, as if by one who had been at the sacking of many towns. The author had learnt much in a little time, at the siege of Leicester. All the sad elements of war appear, and make us shudder—masses of armed men with their slings and battering-rams—clarions and shouts—wounded and slain, all appear as in a panorama. The mind becomes entranced, and when sober reflection regains her command, we naturally inquire, Can all this have taken place in my heart? Then the armies of Diabolus, with his thousands of Election Doubters, and as many Vocation Doubters, and his troops of Blood-men—thousands slain, and yet thousands start into existence. And all this in one man! How numberless are our thoughts—how crafty the approaches of the enemy—how hopeless and helpless is the sinner, unless Immanuel undertakes his recovery. The Holy War is a most surprising narrative of the fall and of the recovery of man’s soul, as accurate as it is most deeply interesting. It is one of the most perfect of allegories.[309] There is as vast a superiority in Bunyan’s Holy War over that by Chrysostom, as there is in the sun over a rush-light.

In 1684, he completed his Pilgrim’s Progress, with the Journey of a Female Christian, her Children, and the Lovely Mercy; and now, as his invaluable and active life drew towards its close, his labours were redoubled. In his younger days, there appeared to have been no presentiment on his part that the longest term of human life would with him be shortened, but rather an expectation of living to old age, judging from an expression in his Grace Abounding. when he enjoyed a good hope, and bright anticipation of heavenly felicity, ‘I should often long and desire that the last days were come. O! thought I, that I were fourscore years old now, that I might die quickly and be gone to rest.’[310] At that time he did not anticipate twelve years’ imprisonment in a wretched jail, nor the consequent effects it must have upon his robust frame, well calculated to stand all weathers, but easily sapped and undermined by a damp dungeon. Symptoms of decay, after having enjoyed his liberty for about a year, led him to close his Affectionate Advice to his Beloved Flock, on their Christian Behaviour; with these words, ‘Thus have I written to you, before I die, to provoke you to faith and holiness, and to love one another, when I am deceased, and shall be in paradise, as through grace I comfortably believe; yet it is not there, but here, I must do you good.’[311] It is remarkable that Bunyan escaped all the dangers of the trying reign of James II, who, at times, was a persecutor, and at times endeavoured, in vain, by blandishments, to win the Nonconformists. His minions had their eyes upon our pilgrim, but were foiled in every attempt to apprehend him; all that he suffered was the occasional spoiling of his goods.[312] Neither violence nor allurements induced him to deviate from his line of duty. No fear of man appeared to agitate his breast—he richly enjoyed that ‘perfect love,’ which ‘casteth out fear’ (1 John 4:18). James did all that an unprincipled man could do to cajole the Dissenters, that by their aid he might pull down the walls of Protestantism, and give full sway to the Papacy. He attempted, among many others, to bribe John Bunyan. He knew not how well he was read in the Book of Martyrs; how well he was aware that ‘the instruments of cruelty are in their habitations,’ and that the only advantage he could have received, would have been the same that Polypheme, the monstrous giant of Sicily, allowed to Ulysses, that he would eat his men first, and do him the favour of being eaten last. Mr. Doe states that ‘Regulators were sent into all cities and towns corporate to new-model the magistracy, by turning out some, and putting in others. Against this Bunyan expressed his zeal with great anxiety, as foreseeing the bad consequences that would attend it, and laboured with his congregation to prevent their being imposed on in this kind. And when a great man in those days, coming to Bedford upon some such errand, sent for him, as it is supposed, to give him a place of public trust, he would by no means come at him, but sent his excuse.’[313] He knew that in his flesh he possessed what he calls ‘Adam’s legacy, a conduit pipe, through which the devil conveys his poisoned spawn and venom,’[314] and he wisely avoided this subtle temptation. He detested the ‘painted Satan, or devil in fine clothes.’[315] It was one of these hypocritical pretences to correct evil, while really meaning to increase it, and which Bunyan calls, ‘the devil correcting vice.’ He was watchful, lest ‘his inward man should catch cold,’[316] and every attempt to entangle him failed.

This godly jealousy led him to sacrifice worldly interests to an extent not justifiable, if all the facts appear. When told that a very worthy citizen of London would take his son Joseph apprentice without fee, and advance his interests, he refused, saying, ‘God did not send me to advance my family, but to preach the gospel.’

At this time he again manifested his lion heart, by writing and preparing for the press a fearless treatise on Antichrist, and his Ruin. In this he shows, that human interference with Divine worship, by penal laws or constraint, is ‘Antichrist’—that which pretends to regulate thought, and thus to reduce the kingdom of Christ to a level with the governments of this world. In this treatise, he clearly exhibits the meaning of that passage, so constantly quoted by the advocates of tyranny and persecution (Ezra 7:26), and shows that the laws interfered not with Divine worship, but that they upheld to the fullest extent the principle of voluntary obedience (v 13); so that any man putting constraint upon another in religious affairs, would be guilty of breaking the law, and subject him to extreme punishment. This was one of the last treatises which Bunyan prepared for the press, as if in his dying moments he would aim a deadly thrust at Apollyon. Reader, it is worthy your most careful perusal, as showing the certain downfall of Antichrist, and the means by which it must be accomplished.

Feeling the extreme uncertainty of life, and that he might be robbed of all his worldly goods, under a pretence of fines and penalties, he, on the 23d of December, 1685, executed a deed of gift, vesting what little he possessed in his wife. It is a singular instrument, especially as having been sealed with a silver twopenny piece. The original is in the church book, at Bedford:—

‘To all people to whom this present writing shall com, J. Bunyan of the parish of St. Cuthbirt’s, in the towne of Bedford, in the county of Bedford, Brazier send greeting. Know ye, that I the said John Bunyan as well for, and in consideration of the natural affection and loue which I have, and bear vnto my welbeloued wife, Elizabeth Bunyan, as also for divers other good causes and considerations, me at this present especially moneing, have given and granted, and by these presents, do give, grant, and conferm vnto the said Elizabeth Bunyan, my said wife, all and singuler my goods, chattels, debts, ready mony, plate, rings, household stuffe, aparrel, vtensills, brass, peuter, beding, and all other my substance, whatsoever moueable and immoueable, of what kinde, nature, quality, or condition soever the same are or be, and in what place or places soever the same be, shall or may be found as well in mine own custodies, possession, as in the possession, hands, power, and custody of any other person, or persons whatsoever. To have and to hold all and singuler the said goods, chattels, debts, and all other, the aforesaid premises vnto the said Elizabeth, my wife, her executors, administerators, and assigns to her and their proper vses and behoofs, freely and quietly without any matter of challinge, claime, or demand of me the said John Bunyan, or of any other person, or persons, whatsoever for me in my name, by my means cavs or procurement, and without any mony or other thing, therefore to be yeeilded, paid or done vnto me the said John Bunyan, my executors, administrators or assigns. And I, the said John Bunyan, all and singular, the aforesaid goods, chattels, and premises to the said Elizabeth my wife, her executors, administrators, and assignes to the vse aforesaid, against all people do warrant and forever defend by these presents. And further, know ye, that I the said John Bunyan have put the said Elizabeth, my wife, in peacable and quiet possession of all and singuler the aforesaid premises, by the delivrye vnto her at the ensealing hereof one coyned peece of silver, commonly called two pence, fixed on the seal of these presents.[317]

‘In wittnes wherof, I the said John Bunyan have herevnto set my hand and seall this 23d day of December, in the first year of the reigne of our soueraigne lord, King James the Second of England, &c., in the year of our lord and saviour, Jesus Christ, 1685.

John Bunyan

Sealed and delivered in the presence of vs, whos names are here vnder written:—

John Bardolph. Willm Hawkes. Nicholas Malin. Lewes Norman.

It appears from this deed that Bunyan continued in business as a brazier, and it is very probable that he carried it on until his decease. This deed secured to his wife what little he possessed, without the trouble or expense of applying to the ecclesiastical courts for probate of a will.

Among other opinions which then divided the Christian world, was a very important one relative to the law of the ten commandments, whether it was given to the world at large, or limited to the Jews as a peculiar nation until the coming of Messiah, and whether our Lord altered or annulled the whole or any part of that law. This question involves the observance of the seventh-day Sabbath. An awful curse is denounced upon those who do not continue in ALL things which are written in the book of the law to do them (Gal 3:10; Deut 27:26). When an innovation upon the almost universal practice of infant baptism had become an object of inquiry only to be answered from the New Testament, it is not surprising that the serious question, why God’s Sabbath-day had been altered, should also be agitated with deep feeling. Generally, those who advocated the restoration of the Jewish Sabbath were decidedly of opinion that believers only were fit subjects for baptism, and that the scriptural mode of administering it was by immersion; hence they were called Seventh-day Baptists—Sabbatarians, or Sabbath-keepers.

Bunyan entered with very proper and temperate zeal into this controversy. Popular feeling had no influence over him; nor could he submit to the opinions of the ancient fathers. His storehouse of knowledge was limited to the revealed will of God, and there he found ample material to guide his opinion. His work upon this subject is called, Questions about the Nature and Perpetuity of the Seventh-day Sabbath; and proof that the First Day of the Week is the Christian Sabbath. It is one of the smallest of his volumes, but so weighty in argument as never to have been answered.

We now arrive at the last year of his eventful and busy life, during which he published six important volumes, and left twelve others in manuscript, prepared for publication. A list of these will be found in The Struggler;[318] they are upon the most important subjects, which are very admirably treated. We notice among these, The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, or Good News for the Vilest of Men. It is a specimen of preaching calculated to excite the deepest interest, and afford the strongest consolation to a soul oppressed with the sense of sin. Great sinner! thou art called to mercy by name. Arise! shoulder thy way into court through any crowd,—‘say, Stand away, devil; stand away all discouragements; my Saviour calls me to receive mercy.’ In this treatise, Bunyan has repeated from memory what he had read in some book when in prison, four and twenty years before. It is a curious legend, which he doubtless believed to be true, and it displays his most retentive memory.[319] His poetry, like his prose, was not written to gain a name, but to make a deep impression. One of his professed admirers made a strange mistake when he called them doggerel rhymes.[320] His Caution to Watch Against Sin is full of solemn and impressive thoughts, the very reverse of doggerel or burlesque. his poem on the house of God is worthy of a most careful perusal; and thousands have been delighted and improved with his emblems. One rhyme in the Pilgrim can never be forgotten—

‘He that is down need fear no fall; He that is low no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide,’ &c.

The careful perusal of every one of his treatises, has excited in my mind a much livelier interest than any other religious works which, in a long life, have come under my notice. In fact, the works of Bunyan to a country minister may be compared to a vast storehouse, most amply replenished with all those solemn subjects which call for his prayerful investigation; well arranged, ready of access, striking in their simplicity, full of vivid ideas conveyed in language that a novice may understand. They are all so admirably composed that pious persons, whether in houses of convocation or of parliament, or the inmates of a workhouse, may equally listen to them with increasing delight and instruction. No man ever more richly enjoyed the magnificent language of Job. He called it ‘that blessed book.’[321] The deep interest that he took in its scenery may be traced through all his writings. His spirit, with its mighty powers, grasped the wondrous truths so splendidly pourtrayed in that most ancient book. The inspired writings, which so eminently give wisdom to the simple, expanded his mind, while his mental powers were strengthened and invigorated by his so deeply drinking into the spirit of the inspired volume.