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 to 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.'
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 anyone 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 Godmother 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.
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. Bunyan says, 'Your great ranting, swaggering, rosters'; this is
modernized into 'Your ranting boasters.' 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 meetinghouse
could hold. I have heard him preach, by my computation, about 1200 at a
morning lecture, by seven o'clock, on a working day, in the dark wintertime. 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 upstairs to his pulpit.'
This took place in a
large meetinghouse, erected in Zoar Street, either on the site or near the
Globe Theatre, Southwark. 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 bearbaiting.
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
meetinghouse. 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!' 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.'