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]
This severe conflict lasted for about a year. He describes his feelings
at times as resembling the frightful pangs of one broken on the wheel.
The sources of his misery were fears that he had sinned against the
Holy Ghost; and that through his hardness of heart and impatience in
prayer—he should not persevere to the end. During all this time,
occasional visits of mercy kept him from despair; and at some intervals
filled him with transports of joy. At one time so delightfully was his
burden removed that he could not tell how to contain himself. ‘I
thought I could have spoken of his love and of his mercy to me, even to
the very crows that sat upon the ploughed lands before me, had they
been capable to have understood me.’[98] Thus his feelings were
controlled by reason, very different to the poor madman who, in olden
time, is represented as preaching to the fish. With Bunyan it was a
hallowed joy—a gush of holy gladness, in which he wished all creation
to participate. his heart was baptized in hope. ‘I know that my
Redeemer liveth’; and with holy Job, he wished to perpetuate his joy by
a memorial not in rock, but in a book of resemblance. ‘I would I had a
pen and ink here to write it down.’ This is the first desire that he
expressed to proclaim or publish to others the great Saviour he had
found: but he was not yet prepared; he must pass through deeper depths,
and possess a living knowledge of Divine truth, burnt into his soul by
satanic fires.
Very soon after this, he was harassed with fear lest he should part
with Christ. The tempter, as he did with Christian in the Valley of the
Shadow of Death, suggested blasphemies to him, which he thought had
proceeded from his own mind. ‘Satan troubled him with his stinking
breath. How many strange, hideous, and amazing blasphemies have some
that are coming to Christ had injected upon their spirits against
him.’[99] ‘The devil is indeed very busy at work during the darkness of
a soul. He throws in his fiery darts to amazement, when we are
encompassed with the terrors of a dismal night; he is bold and
undaunted in his assaults, and injects with a quick and sudden malice a
thousand monstrous and abominable thoughts of God, which seem to be the
motions of our own minds, and terribly grieve and trouble us.’[100]