Chapter 4

It may occasion surprise to some, that a young man of such extraordinary powers of mind, should have indulged the thought of working a miracle to settle or confirm his doubts; but we must take into account, that when a boy he had no opportunity of acquiring scriptural knowledge; no Sunday schools, no Bible class excited his inquiries as to the meaning of the sacred language. The Bible had been to him a sealed book until, in a state of mental agony, he cried, What must I do to be saved? The plain text was all his guide; and it would not have been surprising, had he been called to bottle a cask of new wine, if he had refused to use old wine bottles; or had he cast a loaf into the neighbouring river Ouse, expecting to find it after many days. The astonishing fact is, that one so unlettered should, by intense thought, by earnest prayer, and by comparing one passage with another, arrive eventually at so clear a view both of the external and internal meaning of the whole Bible. The results of his researches were more deeply impressed upon his mind by the mistakes which he had made; and his intense study, both of the Old and New Testaments, furnished him with an inexhaustible store of things new and old—those vivid images and burning thoughts, those bright and striking illustrations of Divine truth, which so shine and sparkle in all his works. What can be more clear than his illustration of saving faith which worketh by love, when in after-life he wrote the Pilgrim’s Progress. Hopeful was in a similar state of inquiry whether he had faith. ‘Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing?’ And then I saw from that saying, He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth in me shall never thirst, that believing and coming was all one, and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ (John 6:25).[77]

In addition to his want of scriptural education, it must be remembered that, when he thought of miraculous power being an evidence of faith, his mind was in a most excited state—doubts spread over him like a huge masses of thick black clouds, hiding the Sun of Righteousness from his sight. Not only is he to be pardoned for his error, but admired for the humility which prompted him to record so singular a trial, and his escape from ‘this delusion of the tempter.’ While ‘thus he was tossed betwixt the devil and his own ignorance,’[78] the happiness of the poor women whose conversation he had heard at Bedford, was brought to his recollection by a remarkable reverie or day dream:—

‘About this time, the state and happiness of these poor people at Bedford was thus, in a dream or vision, represented to me. I saw as if they were set 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 mountain; now through this wall my soul did greatly desire to pass, concluding that if I could, I would go even into the very midst of them, and there also comfort myself with the heat of their sun.

‘About this wall I thought 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 doorway in the wall, through which I attempted to pass; but the passage being very strait and narrow, I made many efforts 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 sidling striving, my shoulders, and my whole body; then I was 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, 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 this wall, I thought, was Jesus Christ, who is the way to God the Father (John 14:6; Matt 7:14). 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 this wicked world behind them; for here was only room for body and soul, but not for body and soul and sin.[79]

‘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 I should pray wherever I was; whether at home or abroad, in house or field, and should also often, with lifting up of heart, sing that of the fifty-first Psalm, “O Lord, consider my distress.”[80]

In this striking reverie we discover the budding forth of that great genius which produced most beautiful flowers and delicious fruit, when it became fully developed in his allegories.

While this trial clouded his spirits, he was called to endure temptations which are common to most, if not all, inquiring souls, and which frequently produce much anxiety. He plunged into the university problems of predestination, before he had completed his lower grammar-school exercises on faith and repentance. Am I one of the elect? or has the day of grace been suffered to pass by never to return? ‘Although he was in a flame to find the way to heaven and glory,’ these questions afflicted and disquieted him, so that the very strength of his body was taken away by the force and power thereof. ‘Lord, thought I, what if I should not be elected! 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 farther; for if indeed you should not be elected and chosen of God, there is no talk of your being saved; “for it is neither of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy.”

‘By these things I was driven to my wit’s end, not knowing what to say, or how to answer these temptations. Indeed, I little thought that Satan had thus assaulted me, but that rather it was my own prudence thus to start the question: for that the elect only obtained eternal life; that I without scruple did heartily close withal; but that myself was one of them, there lay all the question.’[81]

Thus was he for many weeks oppressed and cast down, and near to ‘giving up the ghost of all his hopes of ever attaining life,’ when a sentence fell with weight upon his spirit—‘Look at the generations of old and see; did ever any trust in the Lord and was confounded’ (Ecclesiasticus 2:10). This encouraged him to a diligent search from Genesis to Revelation, which lasted for above a year, and although he could not find that sentence, yet he was amply rewarded for this diligent examination of the Holy Oracles, and thus he obtained ‘yet more experience of the love and kindness of God.’ At length he found it in the Apocrypha, and, although not the language of inspiration, yet as it contained the sum and substance of the promises, he took the comfort of it, and it shone before his face for years. The fear that the day of grace had passed pressed heavily upon him; he was humbled, and bemoaned the time that he had wasted. Now he was confronted with that ‘grim-faced one, the Captain Past-hope, with his terrible standard,’ carried by Ensign Despair, red colours, with a hot iron and a hard heart, and exhibited at Eye-gate.[82] At length these words broke in upon his mind, ‘compel them to come in, that my house may be filled—and yet there is room.’ This Scripture powerfully affected him with hope, that there was room in the bosom and in the house of Jesus for his afflicted soul.

His next temptation was to return to the world. This was that terrible battle with Apollyon, depicted in the Pilgrim’s Progress, and it is also described at some length in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved. Among many very graphic and varied pictures of his own experience, he introduces the following dialogue with the tempter, probably alluding to the trials he was now passing through. Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. ‘This day is usually attended with much evil towards 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. Now tempt him, threaten him, flatter him, stigmatize him, throw dust into his eyes, poison him with error, spoil him while he is upon the potter’s wheel, anything to keep him from coming to Christ.’[83] ‘What, my true servant,’ quoth he, ‘my old servant, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know, that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost thou think to find mercy now? Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at heaven-gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it?’ Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply? saith the tempted. Why, I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how? No, saith he, I said, I am Magdalene, I am Zaccheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ’s murderers; yea, worse than any of these; and yet God was so far off from rejecting of me, as I found afterwards, that there was music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I was come home unto him. O blessed be God for grace (says the other), for then I hope there is favour for me. Yea, as I told you, such a one is a continual spectacle in the church, for every one by to behold God’s grace and wonder by.[84] These are the ‘things the angels desire to look into’ (1 Peter 1:12), or as Bunyan quaintly says, this is the music which causes ‘them that dwell in the higher orbs to open their windows, put out their heads, and look down to see the cause of that glory’ (Lev 15:7,10).[85]

As he became less agitated with fear, and drew consolation more frequently from the promises, with a timid hope of salvation, he began to exhibit singular powers of conception in spiritualizing temporal things. His first essay was to find the hidden meaning in the division of God’s creatures into clean and unclean. Chewing the cud, and parting the hoof, he conceived to be emblematical of our feeding upon the Word of God, and parting, if we would be saved, with the ways of ungodly men.[86] It is not sufficient to chew the cud like the hare—nor to part the hoof like the swine—we must do both; that is, possess the word of faith, and that be evidenced by parting with our outward pollutions. This spiritual meaning of part of the Mosaic dispensation is admirably introduced into the Pilgrim’s Progress, when Christian and Faithful analyse the character of Talkative.[87] This is the germ of that singular talent which flourished in after-life, of exhibiting a spiritual meaning drawn from every part of the Mosaic dispensation, and which leads one of our most admired writers[88] to suggest, that if Bunyan had lived and written during the early days of Christianity, he would have been the greatest of the fathers.

Although he had received that portion of comfort which enabled him to indulge in religious speculations, still his mind was unsettled, and full of fears. He now became alarmed lest he had not been effectually called to inherit the kingdom of heaven.[89] He felt still more humbled at the weakness of human nature, and at the poverty of wealth. Could this call have been gotten for money, and ‘could I have given it; had I a whole world, it had all gone ten thousand times over for this.’ In this he was sincere, and so he was when he said, I would not lose one promise, or have it struck out of the Bible, if in return I could have as much gold as would reach from London to York, piled up to the heavens. In proportion to his soul’s salvation, honour was a worthless phantom, and gold but glittering dust. His earnest desire was to hear his Saviour’s voice calling him to his service. Like many young disciples, he regretted not having been born when Christ was manifest in the flesh. ‘Would I had been Peter or John!’ their privations, sufferings, martyrdom, was nothing in comparison to their being with, and hearing the voice of the Son of God calling them to his service. Strange, but general delusion! as if Christ were not the same yesterday, to day, and for ever. Groaning for a sense of pardon, he was comforted by Joel—‘I will cleanse their blood that I have not cleansed, for the Lord dwelleth in Zion’ (Joel 3:21), and he was led to seek advice and assistance from a neighbouring minister, and from pious persons.

The poor women in Bedford, whose conversation had been blessed to his thorough awakening, were sought for, and to them he unfolded his sorrows. They were members of a Baptist church, under the pastoral care of John Gifford, a godly, painstaking, and most intelligent minister, whose history is very remarkable. In early life he had been, like Bunyan, a thoroughly depraved character; like him had entered the army, and had been promoted to the rank of a major in the royal forces. Having made an abortive attempt to raise a rebellion in his native county of Kent,[90] he and eleven others were made prisoners, tried by martial law, and condemned to the gallows. On the night previous to the day appointed for his execution, his sister found access to the prison. The guards were asleep, and his companions drowned in intoxication. She embraced the favourable moment, and set him at liberty. He lay concealed in a ditch for three days, till the heat of the search was over, and in disguise escaped to London, and thence to Bedford, where, aided by some great people who favoured the royal cause, he commenced business as a doctor. Here his evil habits followed him, notwithstanding his merciful deliverance. Swearing, drunkenness, gambling, and other immoral practices, rendered him a curse to others, especially to the Puritans, whom he bitterly persecuted. One night he lost fifteen pounds at play, and, becoming outrageous, he cast angry reproaches upon God. In this state he took up a book by R. Bolton—he read, and his conscience was terror-stricken. Distress, under conviction of sin, followed him. He searched his Bible, and found pardon and acceptance. He now sought acquaintance with those whom before he had persecuted, but, like Paul, when in similar circumstances, ‘they were all afraid of him.’ His sincerity soon became apparent; and, uniting with eleven others, they formed a church. These men had thrown off the fetters of education, and were, unbiased by any sectarian feeling, being guided solely by their prayerful researches into divine truth as revealed in the Bible. Their whole object was to enjoy Christian communion—to extend the reign of grace—to live to the honour of Christ—and they formed a new, and at that time unheard-of, community. Water-baptism was to be left to individual conviction; they were to love each other equally, whether they advocated baptism in infancy, or in riper years. The only thing essential to church-fellowship, in Mr. Gifford’s opinion, was—‘UNION WITH CHRIST; this is the foundation of all saints’ communion, and not any judgment about externals.’ To the honour of the Baptists, these peaceable principles appear to have commenced with two or three of their ministers, and for the last two centuries they have been, like heavenly leaven, extending their delightful influence over all bodies of Christians.

Such was the man to whom Bunyan was introduced for religious advice and consolation; and he assisted in forming those enlarged and nonsectarian principles which made his ministry blessed, and will render his Works equally acceptable to all evangelical Christians in every age of the church. Introduced to such a minister, and attending social meetings for prayer and Christian converse, he felt still more painfully his own ignorance, and the inward wretchedness of his own heart. ‘His corruptions put themselves forth, and his desires for heaven seemed to fail.’ In fact, while he compared himself with his former self, he was a religious giant; in comparison with these pious, long-standing Christians, he dwindled into a pigmy; and in the presence of Christ he became, in his own view, less than nothing, and vanity. He thus describes his feelings:—‘I began to sink—my heart laid me low as hell. I was driven as with a tempest—my heart would be unclean—the Canaanites would dwell in the land.’[91] He was like the child which the father brought to Christ, who, while he was coming to Him, was thrown down by the devil, and so rent and torn that he lay and wallowed, foaming. His heart felt so hard, that with many a bitter sigh he cried, ‘Good Lord! break it open. Lord, break these gates of brass, and cut these bars of iron asunder’ (Psa 107:16). Little did he then think that his bitterness of spirit was a direct answer to such prayers. Breaking the heart was attended with anguish in proportion as it had been hardened. During this time he was tender and sensitive as to the least sin; ‘now I durst not take a pin or a stick, my conscience would smart at every touch.’ ‘O, how gingerly did I then go in all I said or did!’[92] ‘Still sin would as naturally bubble out of my heart as water would bubble out of a fountain.’ He felt surprised when he saw professors much troubled at their losses, even at the death of the dearest relative. His whole concern was for his salvation. He imagined that he could bear these small afflictions with patience; but ‘a wounded spirit who can bear?’

In the midst of all these miseries, and at times regretting that he had been endowed with an immortal spirit, liable to eternal ruin, he was jealous of receiving comfort, lest it might be based upon any false foundation. Still as his only hope he was constant in his attendance upon the means of grace, and ‘when comforting time was come,’ he heard one preach upon two words of a verse, which conveyed strong consolation to his weary spirit; the words were, ‘my love’ (Song 4:1). From these words the minister drew the following conclusions:—1. That the church, and so every saved soul, is Christ’s love, even when loveless; 2. Christ’s love is without a cause; 3. They are Christ’s love when hated of the world; 4. Christ’s love when under temptation and under desertion; 5. Christ’s love from first to last.[93] Now was his heart filled with comfort and hope. ‘I could believe that my sins should be forgiven me’; and, in a state of rapture, he thought that his trials were over, and that the savour of it would go with him through life. Alas! his enjoyment was but for a season—the preparation of his soul for future usefulness was not yet finished. In a short time the words of our Lord to Peter came powerfully into his mind—‘Satan hath desired to have you’; and so strong was the impression they made, that he thought some man addressed them to him; he even turned his head to see who it was that thus spoke to him. This was the forerunner of a cloud and a storm that was coming upon him. It was the gathering up of Satan’s mighty strength, to have, if possible, overwhelmed him. His narrative of this internal tempest in his soul—this last great struggle with the powers of darkness—is very striking.

‘About the space of a month after, a very great storm came down upon me, which handled me twenty times worse than all I had met with before; 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 confusion and astonishment. These blasphemous thoughts were such as also stirred up questions in me against the very being of God, and of his only beloved Son. As, whether there were in truth a God or Christ, or no? And whether the Holy Scriptures 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, dare not utter, neither by word nor 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 unto them, to be carried away with them as with a mighty whirlwind.

‘Only by the distaste that they gave unto my spirit, I felt there was something in me that refused to embrace them.’[94]

Here are the facts which are allegorized in the history of Christian, passing through the Valley of Humiliation, and fighting with the Prince of the power of the air. ‘Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that Christian’s sword flew out of his hand.’ This was the effect of his doubts of the inspiration of the Scriptures—the sword of the Spirit. ‘I am sure of thee now, said Apollyon; and with that he had almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life; but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, “Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy, when I fall I shall arise” (Matt 7:8), and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us”; and with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon wings, and sped him away.’[95] What an awful moment, when he fell unarmed before his ferocious enemy! ‘Faith now has but little time to speak to the conscience—it is now struggling for life—it is now fighting with angels—with infernals—all it can do now is to cry, groan, sweat, fear, fight, and gasp for life.’[96] How desperate the conflict—the mouth of hell yawning to swallow him—man cannot aid the poor warrior, all his help is in God. Is it not a wonder to see a poor creature, who in himself is weaker than the moth, to stand against and overcome all devils—all the world—all his lusts and corruptions; or, if he fall, is it not a wonder to see him, when devils and guilt are upon him, to rise again, stand upon his legs, walk with God again, and persevere in faith and holiness?[97]