Works of John Bunyan — BUNYAN'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF PREVIOUS TO HIS CONVERSION.

 

1. In this my relation of the merciful working of God upon my soul, it will not be amiss, if, in the first place, I do, in a few words, give you a hint of my pedigree, and manner of bringing up; that thereby the goodness and bounty of God towards me, maybe the more advanced and magnified before the sons of men.

2. For my descent then, it was, as is well known by many, of a low and inconsiderable generation; my father's house being of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families in the land. Wherefore I have not here, as others, to boast of noble blood, or of a high-born state, according to the flesh; though, all things considered, I magnify the heavenly Majesty, for that by this door he brought me into this world, to partake of the grace and life that is in Christ by the gospel.

3. But yet, notwithstanding the meanness and inconsiderableness of my parents, it pleased God to put it into their hearts to put me to school, to learn both to read and write; which I also attained, according to the rate of other poor men's children; though, to my shame I confess, I did soon lose that little I learned, and that even almost utterly, and that long before the Lord did work his gracious work of conversion upon my soul.

4. As for my own natural life, for the time that I was without God in the world, it was indeed according to the course of this world, and "the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience" (Eph 2:2,3). It was my delight to be "taken captive by the devil at his will" (2 Tim 2:26). Being filled with all unrighteousness: the which did also so strongly work and put forth itself, both in my heart and life, and that from a child, that I had but few equals, especially considering my years, which were tender, being few, both for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy name of God.

5. Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became as second nature to me; the which, as I also have with soberness considered since, did so offend the Lord, that even in my childhood he did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions; for often, after I had spent this and the other day in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted, while asleep, with the apprehensions of devils and wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, labored to draw me away with them, of which I could never be rid.

6. Also I should, at these years, be greatly afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the day of judgment, and that both night and day, and should tremble at the opinions of the fearful torments of hell fire; still fearing that it would be my lot to be found at last amongst those devils and hellish fiends, who are there bound down with the chains and bonds of eternal darkness, "unto the judgment of the great day."

7. These things, I say, when I was but a child, 'but nine or ten years old,' did so distress my soul, that when in the midst of my many sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often much cast down and afflicted in my mind in addition to that, yet could I not let go my sins. Yea, I was 'also then' so overcome with the despair of life and heaven, that I should often wish either that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil—supposing they were only tormentors; that if it must need be that I went thither, I might be rather a tormentor, than 'be' tormented myself.

8. A while after, these terrible dreams did leave me, which also I soon forgot; for my pleasures did quickly cut off the remembrance of them, as if they had never been: wherefore, with more greediness, according to the strength of nature, I did still let loose the reins to my lusts, and delighted in all transgression against the law of God: so that, until I came to the state of marriage, I was the very ringleader of all the youth that kept me company, into all manner of vice and ungodliness.

9. Yea, such prevalency had the lusts and fruits of the flesh in this poor soul of mine, that had not a miracle of precious grace prevented, I had not only perished by the stroke of eternal justice but had also laid myself open, even to the stroke of those laws, which bring some to disgrace and open shame before the face of the world.

10. In these days, the thoughts of religion were very grievous to me; I could neither endure it myself nor that any other should; so that, when I have seen some read in those books that concerned Christian piety, it would be as it were a prison to me. Then I said unto God, "Depart from me, for I desire not the knowledge of thy ways" (Job 21:14). I was now void of all good consideration, heaven and hell were both out of sight and mind; and as for saving and damning, they were least in my thoughts. O Lord, thou knowest my life, and my ways were not hidden from thee.

Works of John Bunyan —GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS

 

A BRIEF AND FAITHFUL RELATION OF THE EXCEEDING MERCY OF GOD IN CHRIST TO HIS POOR SERVANT, JOHN BUNYAN;

WHEREIN IS PARTICULARLY SHOWN THE MANNER OF HIS CONVERSION, HIS SIGHT AND TROUBLE FOR SIN, HIS DREADFUL TEMPTATIONS, ALSO HOW HE DESPAIRED OF GOD'S MERCY, AND HOW THE LORD AT LENGTH THROUGH CHRIST DID DELIVER HIM FROM ALL THE GUILT AND TERROR THAT LAY UPON HIM.

The order in which this thrilling narrative of Bunyan's religious feelings and experience is now for the first time published is, I. Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners—his call to the ministry, and his imprisonment for refusing to attend the Church of England service. II. His Relation of the Circumstances attending his incarceration in Bedford Jail. III. The continuation of his life to his decease, written by one of his friends, and always printed with Grace Abounding. IV. His Dying Thoughts. V. His Prison Meditations—verses which were probably sold on a broadside or sheet of paper by his children, to procure necessaries for his family.

The length of the notes may need some apology; the only one the editor can make is his veneration for John Bunyan, and his earnest desire to render this inestimable book more deeply interesting, by explaining manners, customs, and words not now in use; the note on No. 232, occupied the time of one whole day.

The errors, omissions, and additions, which existed to a most extraordinary extent throughout the book, have been corrected, and the text restored to its primitive beauty; among many hundred of these errors, one may suffice as a specimen; it is in Bunyan's preface, 'God did not play in convincing of me, the devil did not play in tempting of me,' this is altered in many editions to 'God did not play in tempting of me.'

Most earnestly do I hope that this republication, now for the first time, for nearly two hundred years, given in its native excellence and purity, may be attended with the Divine blessing, to the comfort of many despairing Jerusalem sinners; to the building up of the church of Christ on earth; to the extension of pure, heartfelt, genuine Christianity; and to the confusion of the persecutors. They intended, by shutting the pious pilgrim up in a dungeon, to prevent his voice from being heard to the comfort of his poor neighbors, and by which violence, his persecutors have caused his voice to burst the prison doors and walls, and to be heard over the whole world. His 'Pilgrim's Progress,' which was written in prison, has been, and now is, a guide to Christian pilgrims of all nations, kindreds, tribes, and people, teaching them not to rest content in any national religion, but personally to search the Scriptures, with earnest supplications to the God of mercy and truth, that they may be guided to Christ, as the Alpha and Omega of their salvation.

GEORGE OFFOR.

Works of John Bunyan —GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS

 

A BRIEF AND FAITHFUL RELATION OF THE EXCEEDING MERCY OF GOD IN CHRIST TO HIS POOR SERVANT, JOHN BUNYAN;

WHEREIN IS PARTICULARLY SHOWN THE MANNER OF HIS CONVERSION, HIS SIGHT AND TROUBLE FOR SIN, HIS DREADFUL TEMPTATIONS, ALSO HOW HE DESPAIRED OF GOD'S MERCY, AND HOW THE LORD AT LENGTH THROUGH CHRIST DID DELIVER HIM FROM ALL THE GUILT AND TERROR THAT LAY UPON HIM.

The value of such a narrative to a terror-stricken prodigal is vividly shown by Bunyan, in his 'Jerusalem Sinner Saved,' one of those colloquial pieces of composition in which he eminently shone. 'Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. "What, my true servant," quote 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 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 Zacchaeus, 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 afterward, that there was music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I have come home unto him. O blessed be God for grace, says the other, for then I hope there is favor for me.'

The 'Grace Abounding' is a part of Bunyan's prison meditations and strongly reminds us of the conversation between Christian and Hopeful on the enchanted ground.

'Christian. Now then, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse.

'Hopeful. With all my heart.

'Christian. Where shall we begin?

'Hopeful. Where God began with us.'

To prevent drowsiness, to beguile the time, he looks back to his past experience, and the prison became his Patmos—the gate of heaven—a Bethel, in which his time was occupied in writing for the benefit of his fellow Christians. He looks back upon all the wondrous ways through which the Lord had led him from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion. While writing his own spiritual pilgrimage, his great work broke upon his imagination.

   '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.'

'As you read the "Grace Abounding," you are ready to say at every step, here is the future author of the "Pilgrim's Progress." It is as if you stood beside some great sculptor, and watched every movement of his chisel, having seen his design; so that at every blow some new trait of beauty in the future statue comes clearly into view.'

A great difference of opinion has been expressed by learned men as to whether Bunyan's account of himself is to be understood literally, as it respects his bad conduct before his conversion, or whether he views himself through a glass, by which his evil habits are magnified. No one can doubt his perfect honesty. He plainly narrates his bad, as well as his redeeming qualities; nor his narrative appears to be exaggerated. He was the son of a traveling tinker, probably a gypsy, 'the meanest and most despised rank in the land'; when alarmed at his sins, recollection that the Israelites were once the chosen people of God, he asked his father, whether he was of that race; as if he thought that his family was of some peculiar people, and it was easy for such a lad to blend the Egyptians with the Israelitish race. When he was defamed, his slanderers called him a witch, fortune teller, Jesuit, highwayman, or the like. Brought up to his father's trade, with his evil habits unchecked, he became a very depraved lad; and when he states his sad character, it is with a solemn pledge that his account is strictly true. Probably, with a view to the full gratification of his sinful propensities, he entered the army and served among the profligate soldiers of Charles I at the siege of Leicester.

During this time, he was ill at ease; he felt convinced of sin, or righteousness, and of judgment, without a hope of mercy. Hence his misery and internal conflicts, are perhaps the most remarkable of any upon record. His own Giant Despair seized him with an iron grasp. He felt surrounded by invisible beings and in the immediate presence of a holy God. By day, he was bewildered with tormenting visions, and by night alarming dreams presented themselves to him upon his bed. The fictitious appeared to his terrified imagination realities. His excited spirit became familiar with shapeless forms and fearful powers. The sorrows of death, and the pains of hell, got hold of him. His internal conflict was truly horrible, as one who thought himself under the power of demons; they whispered in his ears—pulled his clothes; he madly fought, striking at imaginary shades with his hands, and stamping with his feet at the destroyer. 

Thoughts of the unpardonable sin beset him, his powerful bodily frame became convulsed with agony as if his breast bone would split, and he burst asunder like Judas. He possessed a most prolific mind, affording constant nourishment to this excited state of his feelings. He thought that he should be bereft of his wits; then a voice rushed in at the window like the noise of the wind, very pleasant, and produced a great calm in his soul. His intervals of ease, however, were short; the recollection of his sins, and a fear that he had sold his Saviour, haunted his affrighted spirit. His soul became so tormented, as to suggest to his ideas the suffering of a malefactor broken upon the wheel. The climax of these terrors is narrated in paragraph No. 187. 'Thus was I always sinking, whatever I did think or do. So one day I walked to a neighboring town, sat down upon a settlement in the street, and fell into a very deep pause about the most fearful state my sin had brought me to; and, after long musing, I lifted up my head, but methought I saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light; and as if the very stones in the street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me; methought that they all combined together, to banish me out of the world; I was abhorred of them, and unfit to dwell among them or be a partaker of their benefits because I had sinned against the Saviour.'

 In this deep abyss of misery, THAT love which has heights and depths passing knowledge laid under him the everlasting arms and raised him from the horrible pit in miry clay, when no human powers could have reached his case. Dr. Cheever eloquently remarks, that 'it was through this valley of the shadow of death, overhung by darkness, peopled with devils, resounding with blasphemy and lamentations; and passing amidst quagmires and pitfalls, close by the very mouth of hell, that Bunyan journeyed to that bright and fruitful land of Beulah, in which he sojourned during the latter days of his pilgrimage.' The only trace that his cruel sufferings and temptations seen to have left behind them was an affectionate compassion for those who were still in the state in which he had once been.

Young Christians, you must not imagine that all these terrors are absolute prerequisites to faith in the Saviour. God, as a sovereign, calls his children to himself in various ways. Bunyan's was a very extraordinary case, partly from his early habits—his excitable mind, at a period so calculated to fan a spark of such feelings into a flame. His extraordinary inventive faculties softened down and hallowed by this fearful experience, became fitted for most extensive usefulness.

To eulogize this narrative, would be like 'gilding refined gold'; but I cannot help remarking, among a multitude of deeply interesting passages, his observations upon that honest open avowal of Christian principles, which brought down severe persecution upon him. They excite our tenderest sympathy; his being dragged from his home and wife and children, he says, 'hath oft been to me, as the pulling my flesh from my bones; my poor blind child, what sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world! thou must be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow upon thee. O, I saw I was as a man who was pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children; yet, recollecting myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God.' How awful must be the state of the wretched persecutor, who occasions such sufferings to the children of the most high God!

In this edition, the greatest care has been taken to preserve the exact words of the author, as he first published them; where he altered or added to the text in subsequent editions, it is marked with an inverted comma, or inserted in the notes. Obsolete words and customs are explained; the numbering of his sections is continued, in addition to which, it is divided into chapters for family reading, upon the plan of the late Rev. J. Ivimey; double inverted commas denote quotations of Scripture.

The reader is strongly pressed to keep in his recollection the peculiar use made of the word should, by the author in this narrative. It is from the Saxon sealant, to be obliged. Thus, in the Saxon gospels (Matt 27:15), "the governor should release unto the people a prisoner"; in our version, it is, "was wont to release," meaning that custom compelled him so to do. In Bunyan's phraseology, the word should is used in the same sense, that is, to show that, under peculiar circumstances, his feelings or position involuntarily produced a certain result. Thus, in No. 6, Troubled with the thoughts of judgment and condemnation I should tremble; and in No. 15, The father of his wife having left her two books, in these I should sometimes read; probably the only books he then had. It is remarkable, that although the Saxon language had not been spoken in Bedfordshire for many centuries, still many valuable words remained in use.

Works of John Bunyan —GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS

 

A BRIEF AND FAITHFUL RELATION OF THE EXCEEDING MERCY OF GOD IN CHRIST TO HIS POOR SERVANT, JOHN BUNYAN;

WHEREIN IS PARTICULARLY SHOWN THE MANNER OF HIS CONVERSION, HIS SIGHT AND TROUBLE FOR SIN, HIS DREADFUL TEMPTATIONS, ALSO HOW HE DESPAIRED OF GOD'S MERCY, AND HOW THE LORD AT LENGTH THROUGH CHRIST DID DELIVER HIM FROM ALL THE GUILT AND TERROR THAT LAY UPON HIM.

Whereunto is added a brief relation of his call to the work of the ministry, of his temptations therein, as also what he hath met with in prison. All of which was written by his own hand there, and now published for the support of the weak and tempted people of God.

"Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul."—Psalm 66:16.

London: Printed by George Larkin, 1666.

This title page was afterward altered, and instead of what follows the first line, he inserted,

Or a brief and faithful relation of the exceeding mercy of God in Christ to his poor servant, John Bunyan; namely, in his taking of him out of the dunghill, and converting of him to the faith of his blessed Son, Jesus Christ. Here is also particularly shown, what sight of, and what trouble he had for sin; and also what temptations he met with, and how God carried him through them.

Corrected and much enlarged now by the Author, for the benefit of the tempted and dejected Christian.

The great utility of remarkable accounts of the ways of God in bringing his sheep into the fold, must be admitted by all. The Bible abounds with these manifestations of Divine grace from the gentle voice that called Samuel, even unto the thunder which penetrated the soul of one, who followed the church with continued malignity, calling unto him, "Saul, Saul, why persecutes thou me?"—a voice so terrible, and accompanied by such a flood of light, as to strike the persecutor to the earth, and for a season to deprive him of sight.

The 'Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners' is doubly interesting, as it unfolds to us not only the return of a notorious prodigal but a wondrous system of education, by which a chosen man was fitted for a wondrous work; heavenly and spiritual learning, which could not have been obtained in all the schools and universities in the world. It enabled a poor, vile, unlettered rebel—a blasphemous traveling tinker, to become a most eminent preacher; one whose native powers, sanctified by harrowing but hallowing feelings, attracted the profound attention of the most learned and pious of his contemporaries, while it carried conviction to the most impious and profane. Even beyond all this, his spiritual acquirements fitted him, without scholastic learning, to become the most popular, the most attractive, the most useful of English authors. His works increase remarkably in popularity. As time rolls on, they are still read with deeper and deeper interest, while his bodily presence and labors mingle in the records of the events of bygone ages.

Bunyan's account of his singular trials and temptations may have excited alarm in the minds of some young Christians lest they should be in an unconverted state because they have not been called to pass through a similar mode of training. Pray recollect, my dear young Christian, that all are not called to such important public labors as Bunyan, Whitfield, or Wesley. All the members of the Christian family are trained to fit their respective positions in the church of Christ.

It is a pleasant and profitable exercise to look back to the day of our espousals, and trace the operations of Divine grace in digging us from the hole of the pit; but the important question with us all should be, not so much HOW we became enlightened, but NOW do we love Christ? Now, do we regret our want of greater conformity to his image? If we can honestly answer these questions in the affirmative, we are believers, and can claim our part in that precious promise, "Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." Spiritual life is ours, and eternal life is essentially connected with it and must be our portion, without an inquiry into the means by which we were called, whether by the thunders and lighting of Sinai, as Paul was smitten, or by the "still small voice" (Acts 9:3,4; 1 Kings 19:12; Job 4:16,17).

 

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH. THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

Bunyan's personal appearance and character were drawn by his friend Mr. Doe. 'He appeared in countenance stern and rough, but was mild and affable; loving to reconcile differences and make friendships. He made it his study, above all other things, not to give occasion of offense. In his family, he kept a very strict discipline in prayer and exhortations. He had a sharp, quick eye, and an excellent discerning of persons; of good judgment and quick wit. Tall in stature, strong-boned; somewhat of a ruddy face with sparkling eyes; his hair reddish, but sprinkled with gray; nose well set; mouth moderately large; forehead something high, and his habit always plain and modest.'

My determination in writing this memoir has been to follow the scriptural example, by fairly recording every defect discoverable in Bunyan's character; but what were considered by some to be blemishes, after his conversion, appear, in my estimation, to be beauties. His moral and religious character was irreproachable, and his doctrinal views were most scriptural; all agree in this, that he was a bright and shining light; unrivaled for his allegories, and for the vast amount of his usefulness. His friend, Mr. Wilson, says, 'Though his enemies and persecutors, in his lifetime, did what they could vilify and reproach him, yet, being gone, he that before had the testimony of their consciences, hath now their actual commendation and applause.' To this, we may add, that he was without sectarianism, a most decided Bible Christian. This reveals the secret of his striking phraseology. It was in the sacred pages of Divine truth that he learned grammar and rhetoric. Style, and all his knowledge of the powers of language—were derived from the only source of his religious wisdom and learning. He lived, and thought, and wrote under the influence of the holy oracles, translated by the Puritans in 1560, compared with the version of 1611. This gives a charm to all his works and suits them to every human capacity.

Reader, the object of biography is to excite emulation. Why should not others arise as extensively to bless the world as Bunyan did? The storehouses of heaven from which he was replenished with holy treasures are inexhaustible. As he said, 'God has bags of mercy yet unsealed.' We have the same holy oracles and the same mercy seat. The time is past for merely challenging the right to the personal judgment of religious truths. In Britain, the lions are securely chained, and the cruel giants are disabled. The awful crime of imprisoning and torturing a man for conscience' sake, exists only in kingdoms where darkness reigns—

''amongst horrid shapes and shrieks, and sights unholy.'

We stand upon higher ground than our forefathers; we take our more solemn stand upon the imperative duty of personal investigation—that no one can claim the name of Christian, unless he has laid aside all national, family, or educational prejudices, and drawn from the holy oracles alone all his scheme of salvation and rules of conduct. All the secret of Bunyan's vast usefulness, the foundation of all his honor, is, that the fear of God swallowed up the fear of man; that he was baptized into the truths of revelation, and lived to exemplify them. He was a bright and shining light in a benighted world; and of him, it may be most emphatically said, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.'

GEORGE OFFOR.

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH. THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

The Revs. Messrs. Chandler and Wilson, bear the following testimony as eyewitnesses to his character:—' His fancy and invention were very pregnant and fertile. His wit was sharp and quick—his memory tenacious, it being customary with him to commit his sermons to write after he had preached them,' a proof of extraordinary industry. 'His understanding was large and comprehensive—his judgment sound and deep in the fundamentals of the gospel. His experience of Satan's temptations in the power and policy of them, and of Christ's presence in, and by his Word and Spirit to succor and comfort him, was more than ordinary; the grace of God was magnified in him and by him, and a rich anointing of the Spirit was upon him; and yet this great saint was always in his own eyes the chiefest of sinners and the least of saints. 

He was not only well furnished with the help and endowments of nature, beyond ordinary, but eminent in the graces and gifts of the Spirit, and fruits of holiness. He was from first to last established in, and ready to maintain, that God-like principle of having communion with saints as such, without any respect to the difference in things disputable among the godly. His carriage was condescending, affable, and meek to all, yet bold and courageous for Christ. He was much struck at, in the last times of persecution; being far from any sinful compliance to save himself, he did cheerfully bear the cross.' Such was the character given of him by these two eminent divines, in 1693, while his memory, in its fullest fragrance, was cherished by all the churches.

This humility peculiarly fitted him to instruct the young, of whom he was very fond—

   'Nor do I blush, although I think some may
    Call me a baby, 'cause I with their play;
    I do 't to show them how each file fangles
    On which they doating are, their souls entangle;
    And, since at gravity, they make a tush,
    The very beard I cast behind a bush.'

He had friends among the rich as well as the poor. Of this his solid gold ring and handsome cabinet are proofs. From a letter in the Ellis correspondence, we learn that Bunyan had so secured the affections of the Lord Mayor of London, as to be called his chaplain.

Among his religious friends and associates, he must have been a pleasing, entertaining, lively companion. However solemn, nay awful, had been his experience when walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, yet when emerging from the darkness and enjoying the sunshine of Divine favor, he loved social intercourse and the communion of saints. It is one of the slanders heaped upon Christianity to call it a gloomy, melancholy theme: though 'it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting,' yet the wisely pious man will endeavor, even at an elegant entertainment or a Lord Mayor's dinner, to drop useful hints. Whenever Bunyan describes a social party, especially a feast, he always introduces a wholesome dish; and it is singular, in the abundance of publications, that we have not been favored with John Bunyan's Nuts to Crack at Religious Entertainments or a Collection of his Pious Riddles. Thus, at the splendid royal feast given to Emmanuel, when he entered Mansoul in triumph, 'he entertained the town with some curious riddles, of secrets drawn up by his father's secretary, by the skill and wisdom of Shaddai, the like to which there are not in any kingdom.' 'Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of those riddles himself, but O how were they lightened! 

They saw what they never saw, they could not have thought that such rarities could have been couched in such few and ordinary words. The lamb, the sacrifice, the rock, the door, the way.' 'The second Adam was before the first, and the second covenant was before the first.' 'Was Adam bad before he eat the forbidden fruit?' 'How can a man say his prayers without a word being read or uttered?' 'How do men speak with their feet?' The answer, is Proverbs 6:13. 'Why was the brazen laver made of the women's looking glasses?' 'How can we comprehend that which cannot be comprehended, or know that which passeth knowledge?' 'Who was the founder of the state or priestly domination over religion? What is meant by the drum of Diabolus and other riddles mentioned in The Holy War? The poetical riddles in The Pilgrim's Progress are very striking—

   'A man there was, though some did count him mad,
    The more he cast away, the more he had.'

How can 'evil make the soul from evil turn.'

Can 'sin be driven out of the world by suffering?'

   'Though it may seem to some a riddle,
    We use to light our candles in the middle.'

'What men die two deaths at once?'

'Are men ever in heaven and on earth at the same time?'

'Can a beggar be worth ten thousand a year and not know it?'

He even introduced a dance upon the destruction of Despair, Mr. Ready-to-halt, with his partner Miss Much-afraid, while Christiana and Mercy furnished the music. 'True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand; but I promise you he footed it well. Also, the girl was to be commended, for she answered the music handsomely.' Is this the gloomy fanaticism of a Puritan divine? It is true, that promiscuous dancing, or any other amusement tending to evil, he had given up and discountenanced, but all his writings tend to prove that the Christian only can rationally and piously enjoy the world that now is, while living in the delightful hope of bliss in that which is to come.

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH.THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

How inscrutable are the ways of God! Had Bunyan lived a month longer, he would have witnessed the glorious Revolution—the escape of a great nation. The staff and hope of Protestant Europe was saved from a subtle—a Jesuitical attempt—to introduce Popery and arbitrary government. The time of his death, as a release from the incumbrance of a material body, was fixed by infinite wisdom and love at that juncture, and it ought not to be a cause of regret. His interest in the welfare of the church ceased not with his mortal life. How swiftly would his glorified spirit fly to see the landing of William, and hover with joy over the flight of the besotted James! He was now in a situation to prove the truth of that saying, 'the angels desire to look into' the truth and spread of the glad tidings. How he would prove the reality of his opinion, expressed in The Holy War, of the interest taken by the inhabitants of heaven in the prosperity of the church on earth. When Mansoul was conquered, the spirits that witnessed the victory 'shouted with that greatness of voice, and sung with such melodious notes, that they caused them that dwell in the highest orbs to open their windows, and put out their heads and look down to see the cause of that glory' (Luke 15:7-10).

 So may we imagine that the happy, happy, glorified spirit of Bunyan would look down rejoicing, when, a few years after he had yielded up his pastoral cares, the seed which he had been instrumental in sowing produced its fruit in such numbers, that the old meeting-house was pulled down, and in its place a large and respectable one was erected. And again, on the 20th February, 1850, with what joy would he look down upon the opening of a still larger, more commodious, and handsome meeting-house, bearing his name, and capable of holding 1150 worshippers. One of Bunyan's pungent, alarming sayings to the careless was, 'Once die, we cannot come back and die better.' If anything could tempt him, in his angelic body, to re-visit this earth, it would be to address the multitude at the new Bunyan Chapel with his old sermon on The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, or Good News to the Vilest of Men. But we have Moses and the prophets—Christ and his apostles; if we shut our ears to them, neither should we listen to a messenger from the New Jerusalem.

When it is recollected that Bunyan received the most imperfect rudiments of education in a charity school when very young, which were 'almost entirely' obliterated by bad habits—that he was a hard-working man through life, maintaining himself, a wife, and four children, by his severe labour as a brazier—and yet, by personal efforts, he educated himself and wrote sixty-two valuable religious treatises, numbering among them his inimitable allegories, The Pilgrim's Progress and Holy War, made a Concordance to the Bible, and conducted important controversies. Preaching, while at liberty, almost innumerable sermons on the Lord's-days and week-days, early in the morning and late at night. 

Visiting his flock with pastoral care—founding churches in the villages, and even in towns and cities far distant from his dwelling—constantly giving advice to promote peace and good will, and rendering benevolent aid by long journeys! His whole life presents to us a picture of most astonishing, energetic perseverance. Every moment of time must have been employed as if he valued it as a precious trust, which, if once lost, could never be regained. Who of us can compare our life with his last thirty years, and not blush with shame!

The finest trait in Bunyan's Christian character was his deep, heartfelt humility. This is the more extraordinary from his want of secular education, and his unrivalled talent. The more we learn, the greater is the field for research that opens before us, insomuch that the wisest philosophers have most seriously felt the little progress they have made. He acknowledged to Mr. Cockayn, who considered him the most eminent man, and a star of the first magnitude in the firmament of the churches,[ that spiritual pride was his easily besetting sin, and that he needed the thorn in the flesh, lest he should be exalted above measure. 

A sense of this weakness probably led him to peculiar watchfulness against it. His self-abasement was neither tinctured with affectation, nor with the pride of humility. His humble-mindedness appeared to arise form his intimate communion with Heaven. In daily communion with God, he received a daily lesson of deeper and deeper humility. 'I am the high and lofty One, I inhabit eternity! verily this consideration is enough to make a broken-hearted man creep into a mouse-hole, to hide himself from such majesty! There is room in this man's heart for God to dwell.' 'I find it one of the hardest things that I can put my soul upon, even to come to God, when warmly sensible that I am a sinner, for a share in grace and mercy. I cannot but with a thousand tears say, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Ezra 9:15).'

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH. THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

A lineal descendant of his was living, in 1847, at Islington, near London, aged eighty-four, Mrs. Senegar, a fine hearty old lady, and a Strict Baptist. She said to me, 'Sir, excuse the vanity of an old woman, but I will show you how I sometimes spend a very pleasant half-hour.' She took down a portrait on canvas of her great forefather and propped it up on the table with a writing desk, with a looking glass by its side. 'There, Sir, I look at the portrait, and then at myself, and can trace every feature; we resemble each other like two pins.' 'Excepting the imperial and mustachios,' I replied; to which she readily assented. It was the fact that there was a striking family likeness between the picture and her reflection in the looking glass. Another descendant, from the same branch of the family, is now living at Lincoln. He was born in 1775 and possessed a quarto Bible, published by Barker and Bill in 1641, given by John Bunyan to his son Joseph.

This was preserved in his family until the present year, when it came into the editor's possession, with the following relics, which were. I trust will yet be preserved with the greatest care:—An iron encase, made by Bunyan the brazier, with some stumps of old pens, with which it is said he wrote some of his sermons and books; the buckles worn by him, and his two pocket-knives, one of them made before springs were invented, and which is kept open by turning a ferrule; his apple-scoop, curiously carved, and a seal; his pocket-box of scales and weights for money, being stamped with the figures on each side of the coins of James and Charles I. These were given by Robert Bunyan, in 1839, then sixty-four years of age, to a younger branch of the family, Mr. Charles Robinson, of Wilford, near Nottingham (his sister's son), for safe custody. He died in 1852; his aged uncle remains in good health, subject to the infirmities of his seventy-eighth year. 

On many of the blank spaces in the Bible are the registers of births and deaths in the family, evidently written at the time. Those relics are deposited in a carved oak box. They were sold with the late Mr. Robinson's effects, January 1853, and secured for me by my excellent friend James Dix, Esq., of Bristol, who met with them immediately after the sale, on one of his journeys at Nottingham. They are not worshipped as relics, nor have they performed miracles, but as curiosities of a past age they are worthy of high consideration. Everything that was used by him, and that survives the ravages of time, possesses a peculiar charm; even the chair in which he at is preserved in the vestry of the new chapel and is shown to those who make the pilgrimage to the shrine of Bunyan.

In the same vestry is also a curiously inlaid cabinet, small, and highly finished. It descended from Bunyan to a lady who lived to an advanced age—Madam Bithray; from her to the Rev. Mr. Voley; and of his widow it was purchased to ornament the vestry of Bunyan's meeting house.

The personal appearance and character of our pilgrim's guide, drawn by his friend Charles Doe, will be found at the end of his Grace Abounding; to which is appended his Dying Sayings—'of sin—afflictions—repentance and coming to Christ—of prayer—of the Lord's day, sermons, and weekdays: "Make the Lord's day the market for thy soul"—of the love of the world—of suffering—of death and judgment—of the joys of heaven—and the torments of hell.'

 

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH.THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

A SHORT ELEGY IN MEMORY OF MR. JOHN BUNYAN, WRITTEN BY A DEAR FRIEND OF HIS.

    The pilgrim traveling the world's vast stage,
    At last, does end his weary pilgrimage:
    He now in pleasant valleys does sit down,
    And, for his toil, receives a glorious crown.
    The storms are past, the terrors vanish,
    Which in his way did so affrighting fall;
    He grieves nor sighs no more, his race is run
    Successfully, that was so well begun.
    You'll say he's dead: O no, he cannot die,
    He's only changed to immortality—
    Weep not for him, who has no cause of tears;
    Hush, then, your sighs, and calm your needless fears.
    If anything in love to him is meant,
    Tread his last steps, and of your sins repent:
    If knowledge of things here at all remains
    Beyond the grave, to please him for his pains
    And suffering in this world; live, then, upright,
    And that will be to him a grateful sight.
    Run such a race as you again may meet,
    And find your conversation far sweeter;
    When purged from dross, you shall, unmixed, possess
    The purest essence of eternal bliss

   'He in the pulpit preached truth first, and then
    He in his practice preached it o'er again.'

His remains were interred in Bunhill Fields, in the vault of his friend Mr. Strudwick, at whose house he died. His tomb has been visited by thousands of pilgrims, blessing God for his goodness in raising up such a man, so signally fitted to be a blessing to the times in which he lived. All the accounts of his decease, published at the time, agree as to his place of burial. The words of Mr. Doe, who probably attended the funeral, are, 'he was buried in the new burying place, near the artillery ground, where he sleeps to the morning of the resurrection.' His Life and Actions, 1692, records that 'his funeral was performed with much decency, and he was buried in the new burying-ground by Moorfields.' The Struggler calls it 'Finsbury burying-ground, where many London Dissenting ministers are laid.' Bunhill Fields burying ground for Dissenters was first opened in 1666. The inscription upon the tomb to his memory was engraved many years after his funeral. It is not contained in the list of inscriptions published in 1717. His widow survived him for four years. 

He had six children with his first wife, three of whom survived him—Thomas, Joseph, and Sarah. His son Thomas joined his church in 1673 and was a preacher in 1692. He appears to have been usefully employed in visiting absent members until December 1718. My kind friend, the Rev. J. P. Lockwood, rector of South Hackney, recently discovered entries in the register of Kimbolton, in Huntingdonshire, probably of the descendants of this son, Thomas. November 26, 1698, John Bonion and Mary Rogers married: she was buried, on September 7, 1706; and he again married Anne, and buried her in 1712, leaving a son and two daughters. His death is not recorded. One of the descendants, Hannah Bunyan, died in 1770, aged seventy-six years, and lies in the burial ground by the meeting house at Bedford. John Bunyan's son, Joseph, settled at Nottingham, and marrying a wealthy woman, conformed to the Church.

Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- 5th Period

 

BUNYAN IS DELIVERED FROM PRISON—CONTROVERSY WITH THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ON Works of John Bunyan —BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT BEDFORD- PERIOD SIXTH. THE SUBJECT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER—PUBLISHES THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, AND MANY BOOKS, AND BECOMES EXTREMELY POPULAR—HIS DEATH AND CHARACTER.

The time was drawing near when, in the midst of his usefulness, and with little warning, he was to be summoned to his eternal rest. He had been seriously attacked with that dangerous pestilence which, in former years, ravaged this country, called the sweating sickness, a malady as mysterious and fatal as cholera has been in later times. The disease was attended by great prostration of strength; but, under the careful management of his affectionate wife, his health became sufficiently restored to enable him to undertake a work of mercy; from the fulfillment of which, as a blessed close to his incessant earthly labour, he was to ascend to his Father and his God to be crowned with immortality. A father had been seriously offended by his son and had threatened to disinherit him. To prevent the double mischief of a father dying in anger with his child, and the evil consequence to the child of his being cut off from his patrimony, 

Bunyan again ventured, in his weak state, on his accustomed work, to win the blessings of the peace-maker. He made a journey on horseback to Reading, it being the only mode of travel at that time, and he was rewarded with success. Returning home by way of London to impart the gratifying intelligence, he was overtaken by excessive rains, and, in an exhausted state, he found a kindly refuge in the house of his Christian friend Mr. Strudwick, and was there seized with a fatal fever. His much-loved wife, who had so powerfully pleaded for his liberty with the judges, and to whom he had been united thirty years, was at a great distance from him. Bedford was then two day's journey from London. Probably at first, his friends had hopes of his speedy recovery; but when the stroke came, all his feelings, and those of his friends, appear to have been absorbed, by the anticipated blessings of immortality, to such an extent, that no record is left as to whether his wife or any of his children, saw him cross the river of death. There is abundant testimony of his faith and patience, and that the presence of God was eminent with him.

He bore his trying sufferings with all the patience and fortitude that might be expected from such a man. His resignation was most exemplary; his only expressions were 'a desire to depart, to be dissolved, to be with Christ.' His sufferings were short, being limited to ten days. He enjoyed a holy frame of mind, desiring his friends to pray with him, and uniting fervently with them in the exercise. His last words, while struggling with death, were, 'Weep not for me, but for yourselves. I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will, no doubt, through the mediation of his blessed Son, receive me, though a sinner; where I hope we ere long shall meet, to sing the new song, and remain everlastingly happy, world without end. Amen.' He felt the ground solid under his feet in passing the black river which has no bridge and followed his pilgrim into the celestial city in August 1688, in the sixtieth year of his age. There is some uncertainty as to the day of his decease: Charles Doe, in the Struggler, 1692, has August 31, and this has been copied in all his portraits. In the life appended to the Grace Abounding, 1692, his death day is stated as August 12; and in the memoir appended to the third part of the Pilgrim, also in 1692, the date is August 17. 

The circumstances of his peaceful decease are well compared by Dr. Cheever to the experience of Mr. Standfast when he was called to pass the river: the great calm—the firm footing—the address to by-standers—until his countenance changed, his strong man bowed under him, and his last words were, 'Take me, for I come to thee.' Then the joy among the angels while they welcomed the hero of such spiritual fights, and conducted his wandering soul to the New Jerusalem, which he had so beautifully described as 'the holy city'; and then his wonder and amazement to find how infinitely short his description came to the blissful reality.

The deep affliction that his church was plunged into led to several special meetings. Wednesday, the 4th of September, 'was kept in prayer and humiliation for this heavy stroke upon us—the death of dear brother Bunyan; it was appointed also, that Wednesday next is kept in prayer and humiliation on the same account. At the meeting held on the 11th, it was appointed that all the brethren meet together on the 18th of this month, September, to humble themselves for this heavy hand of God upon us, and also to pray unto the Lord for counsel and direction what to do, in order to seek out for a fit person to make a choice of for an elder. On the 18th, when the whole congregation met to humble themselves before God, by fasting and prayer, for his heavy and severe stroke upon us in taking away our honoured brother Bunyan by death, it was agreed by the whole congregation that cares be taken to seek out for one suitably qualified to be chosen an elder among us, and that care was committed by the whole to the brethren at Bedford.' Thus did the church manifest that they had improved in wisdom under his ministry by flying, in their extreme distress, to the only source of consolation.

The saddest feelings of sorrow extended to every place where he had been known. His friend, the Rev. G. Cockayn, of London, says, 'it pleased the Lord to remove him, to the great loss and inexpressible grief of many precious souls.' Numerous elegies, acrostics, and poems were published on the occasion of his decease, lamenting the loss thus sustained by his country—by the church at large, and particularly by the church and congregation at Bedford. One of these, 'written by a dear friend of his,' is a fair sample of the whole:—