What makes those arrows more penetrating and distressing is, that

Satan, with subtle art, tips them with sentences of Scripture. ‘No

place for repentance’; ‘rejected’; ‘hath never forgiveness,’ and other

passages which, by the malignant ingenuity of the fiend, are formed by

his skill as the cutting and barbed points of his shafts. At one time

Bunyan concluded that he was possessed of the devil; then he was

tempted to speak and sin against the Holy Ghost. He thought himself

alone in such a tempest, and that no one had ever felt such misery as

he did. When in prayer, his mind was distracted with the thought that

Satan was pulling his clothes; he was even tempted to fall down and

worship him. Then he would cry after God, in awful fear that eventually

Satan would overcome him. During all this time he was struggling

against the tempter; and, at length, the dayspring visited him in these

words, ‘I am persuaded that nothing shall separate us from the love of

God in Christ Jesus.’ Again he was cast down with a recollection of his

former blasphemies. What reason can I have to hope for an inheritance

in eternal life? The questions was answered with that portion of

Scripture, ‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’ These were visits

which, like Peter’s sheet, of a sudden were caught up to heaven

again.[101] At length the Sun of Righteousness arose, and shone upon

him with healing influence. ‘He hath made peace through the blood of

his cross,’ came with power to his mind, followed by the consoling

words of the apostle, ‘Forasmuch, then, as the children are partakers

of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same;

that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death,

that is, the devil, and deliver them who through fear of death were all

their lifetime subject to bondage’ (Heb 2:14,15). This was the key that

opened every lock in Doubting Castle. The prisoner escaped to breathe

the air of hope, and joy, and peace. ‘This,’ said he, ‘was a good day

to me, I hope I shall not forget it.’ ‘I thought that the glory of

those words was then so weighty on me, that I was, both once and twice,

ready to swoon as I sat, not with grief and trouble, but with solid joy

and peace.’

His mind was now in a fit state to seek for church fellowship, as a

further means of advance in his knowledge of Divine love. To effect

this object, he was naturally led to the Baptist church at Bedford, to

which those pious women belonged whose Christian communion had been

blessed to him. I sat under the ministry of holy Mr. Gifford, whose

doctrine, by God’s grace, was much for my stability.[102] Although his

soul was led from truth to truth, his trials were not over—he passed

through many severe exercises before he was received into communion

with the church.[103]

At length he determined to become identified with a body of professed

Christians, who were treated with great scorn by other sects because

they denied infant baptism, and he became engaged in the religious

controversies which were fashionable in those days. We have noticed his

encounter with the Ranters, and he soon had to give battle to persons

called Quakers. Before the Society of Friends was formed, and their

rules of discipline were published, many Ranters and others, some of

whom were bad characters and held the wildest opinions, passed under

the name of Quakers. Some of these denied that the Bible was the Word

of God; and asserted that the death of Christ was not a full atonement

for sin—that there is no future resurrection, and other gross errors.

The Quakers, who were afterwards united to form the Society of Friends,

from the first denied all those errors. Their earliest apologist,

Barclay, in his theses on the Scriptures, says, ‘They are the doctrines

of Christ, held forth in precious declarations, spoken and written by

the movings of God’s Spirit.’ Whoever it was that asserted the

heresies, to Bunyan the investigation of them, in the light of Divine

truth, was attended with great advantages. It was through ‘this narrow

search of the Scriptures that he was not only enlightened, but greatly

confirmed and comforted in the truth.’[104]

He longed to compare his experience with that of some old and eminent

convert, and ‘God did cast into his hand’ Luther On the Galatians, ‘so

old that it was ready to fall piece from piece, if I did but turn it

over.’[105] The commentary of this enlightened man was a counterpart to

his own feelings. ‘I found,’ says Bunyan, ‘my condition, in his

experience so largely and profoundly handled, as if his book had been

written out of my own heart. I prefer the book before all others as

most fit for a wounded conscience.’ This was the ‘voice of a man’ that

Christian ‘heard as going before him in the Valley of the Shadow of

Death,’ and was glad that some who feared God were in this valley as

well as himself, who could say, ‘I will fear no evil for thou art with

me.’[106] In many things Luther and Bunyan were men of similar

temperament. Like Emmanuel’s captains, in the Holy War, they were ‘very

stout rough-hewn men; men that were fit to break the ice, and to make

their way by dint of sword.’[107] They were animated by the same

principles, and fought with the same weapons; and although Luther

resided in a castle protected by princes, was furnished with profound

scholastic learning, and became a terror to Popery; yet the voice of

the unlettered tinker, issuing from a dreary prison, bids fair to be

far more extensively heard and blessed than that of this most

illustrious reformer.[108]

Bunyan’s happiness was now very great; his soul, with all its

affections, clave unto Christ: but lest spiritual pride should exalt

him beyond measure, and lest he should be scared to renounce his

Saviour, by the threat of transportation and death, his heart was again

wounded, and quickly after this his ‘love was tried to purpose.’

The tempter came in upon him with a most grievous and dreadful

temptation; it was to part with Christ, to exchange him for the things

of this life; he was perpetually tormented with the words ‘sell

Christ.’ At length, he thought that his spirit gave way to the

temptation, and a dreadful and profound state of despair overpowered

him for the dreary space of more than two years.[109] This is the most

extraordinary part of this wonderful narrative, that he, without

apparent cause, should thus be tempted, and feel the bitterness of a

supposed parting with Christ. There was, doubtless, a cause for every

pang; his heavenly Father afflicted him for his profit. We shall soon

have to follow him through fiery trials. Before the justices, allured

by their arguments, and particularly by the sophistry of their clerk,

Mr. Cobb, and then dragged from a beloved wife and from children to

whom he was most fondly attached—all these fiery trials might be

avoided, if he would but ‘sell Christ.’ A cold damp dungeon was to

incarcerate his body for twelve tedious years of the prime of his life,

unless he would ‘sell Christ.’ His ministering brother and friend, John

Child, a Bedford man, who had joined in recommending Bunyan’s

Vindication of Gospel Truths,[110] fell under this temptation, and

fearing temporal ruin and imprisonment for life, conformed, and then

fell into the most awful state of despair, suffering such agonies of

conscience, that, to get rid of present trouble, he hurried himself

into eternity. Probably Bunyan alludes to this awful instance of fell

despair in his Publican and Pharisee: ‘Sin, when appearing in its

monstrous shape and hue, frighteth all mortals out of their wits, away

from God; and if he stops them not, also out of the world.’[111] To arm

Bunyan against being overcome by a fear of the lions in the way to the

house Beautiful—against giving way, under persecution—he was visited

with terrors lest he should sell or part with Christ. During these sad

years he was not wholly sunk in despair, but had at times some

glimmerings of mercy. In comparing his supposed sin with that of Judas,

he was constrained to find a difference between a deliberate intention

to sell Christ and a sudden temptation.[112] Through all these

searchings of heart and inquiries at the Word, he became fixed in the

doctrine of the final perseverance of God’s saints. ‘O what love, what

care, what kindness and mercy did I now see mixing itself with the most

severe and dreadful of all God’s ways to his people; he never let them

fall into sin unpardonable.’ ‘But these thoughts added grief and horror

to me; I thought that all things wrought for my eternal overthrow.’ So

ready is the tender heart to write bitter things against itself, and as

ready is the tempter to whisper despairing thoughts. In the midst of

this distress he ‘saw a glory in walking with God,’ although a dismal

cloud enveloped him.

This misery was aggravated by reading the fearful estate of Francis

Spira, who had been persuaded to return to a profession of Popery, and

died in a state of awful despair.[113] ‘This book’ was to his troubled

spirit like salt rubbed into a fresh wound.

Bunyan now felt his body and mind shaking and tottering under the sense

of the dreadful judgment of God; and he thought his sin—of a momentary

and unwilling consent to give up Christ—was a greater sin than all the

sins of David, Solomon, Manasseh, and even than all the sins that had

been committed by all God’s redeemed ones. Was there ever a man in the

world so capable of describing the miseries of Doubting Castle, or of

the Slough of Despond, as poor John Bunyan?

He would have run from God in utter desperation; ‘but, blessed be his

grace, that Scripture, in these flying sins, would call, as running

after me, “I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions,

and, as a cloud, thy sins: return unto me, for I have redeemed thee”

(Isa 44:22).Still he was haunted by that scripture, ‘You know how that

afterwards, when he would have inherited the blessing, he found no

place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.’ Thus

was he tossed and buffeted, involved in cloudy darkness, with now and

then a faint gleam of hope to save him from despair. ‘In all these,’ he

says, ‘I was but as those that justle against the rocks; more broken,

scattered, and rent. Oh! the unthought of imaginations, frights, fears,

and terrors, that are effected by a thorough application of

guilt.’[114] ‘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.’[115] Here we

find him in that doleful valley, where Christian was surrounded by

enemies that ‘cared not for his sword,’ he put it up, and places his

dependence upon the more penetrating weapon, ‘All Prayer.’ Depending

upon this last resource, he prayed, even when in this great darkness

and distress. To whom could he go? his case was beyond the power of men

or angels. His refuge, from a fear of having committed the unpardonable

sin, was that he had never refused to be justified by the blood of

Christ, but ardently wished it; this, in the midst of the storm, caused

a temporary clam. At length, he was led to look prayerfully upon those

scriptures that had tormented him, and to examine their scope and

tendency, and then he ‘found their visage changed, for they looked not

so grimly on him as before he thought they did.’[116] Still, after such

a tempest, the sea did not at once become a calm. Like one that had

been scared with fire, every voice was fire, fire; every little touch

hurt his tender conscience.[117]

All this instructive history is pictured by a few words in the

Pilgrim’s Progress. At the Interpreter’s house the pilgrim is shown ‘a

fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always casting

much water upon it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and

hotter.’[118] As Esau beat him down, Christ raised him again. The

threatening and the promise were like glittering swords clashing

together, but the promise must prevail.

His entire relief at last was sudden, while meditating in the field

upon the words, ‘Thy righteousness is in heaven.’ Hence he drew the

conclusion, that his righteousness was in Christ, at God’s right hand,

ever before him, secure from all the powers of sin and Satan. Now his

chains fell off; he was loosed from his affliction and irons; his

temptation fled away. His present supply of grace he compared to the

cracked groats and fourpence half-pennies,[119] which rich men carry in

their pockets, while their treasure is safe in their trunks at home, as

his was in the store-house of heaven.

This dreary night of awful conflict lasted more than two years; but

when the day-spring from on high visited him, the promises spangled in

his eyes, and he broke out into a song, ‘Praise ye the Lord. Praise God

in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power. Praise him

for his mighty acts: praise him according to his excellent

greatness.’[120]

Bunyan’s opinion as to the cause of this bitter suffering, was his want

of watchfulness, his not coming boldly to the throne of grace, and that

he had tempted God. The advantages he considered that he had gained by

it were, that it confirmed his knowledge of the existence of God, so

that he lost all his temptations to unbelief, blasphemy, and hardness

of heart, Doubts as to the truth of the Word, and certainty of the

world to come, were gone for ever.

He found no difficulty as to the keys of the kingdom of heaven. ‘Now I

saw the apostles to be the elders of the city of refuge, those that

they were to receive in, were received to life, but those that they

were to shut out, were to be slain by the avenger of blood.’ Those were

to enter who, with Peter, confessed to Jesus, ‘Thou art the Christ, the

Son of the living God’ (Matt 16:16). This is simply an authority to

proclaim salvation or condemnation to those who receive or reject the

Saviour. It is upon his shoulder the key of the house is laid (Isa

22:22). Christ only has the key, no MAN openeth or shutteth (Rev 1:18,

3:7). All that man can do, as to binding or loosening, is to warn the

hardened and to invite the contrite.

By these trials, the promises, became more clear and invaluable than

ever. He never saw those heights and depths in grace, and love, and

mercy, as he saw them after this severe trial—‘great sins drew out

great grace’; and the more terrible and fierce guilt was, the more high

and mighty did the mercy of God in Christ appear. These are Bunyan’s

own reflections; but may we not add to them, that while he was in God’s

school of trial, every groan, every bitter pang of anguish, and every

gleam of hope, were intended to fit him for his future work as a

preacher and writer? Weighed in the balances of the sanctuary, there

was not a jot too little, or an iota too much. Every important subject

which embarrasses the convert, was most minutely investigated,

especially faith, the sin against the Holy Ghost, the divinity of

Christ, and such essential truths. He well knew every dirty lane, and

nook, and corner of Mansoul, in which the Diabolonians found shelter,

and well he knew the frightful sound of Diabolus’ drum.[121] Well did

his pastor, John Burton, say of him, ‘He hath through grace taken these

three heavenly degrees, to wit, union with Christ, the anointing of the

Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan, which do more fit a

man for that mighty work of preaching the gospel, than all the

university learning and degrees that can be had.’[122]

Preserved in Christ Jesus, and called—selected from his associates in

sin, he was taken into this school, and underwent the strictest

religious education. It was here alone that his rare talent could be

cultivated, to enable him, in two immortal allegories, to narrate the

internal discipline he underwent. It was here he attained that habitual

access to the throne of grace, and that insight into the inspired

volume, which filled his writings with those solemn realities of the

world to come; while it enabled him to reveal the mysteries of

communion with the Father of spirits, as he so wondrously does in his

treatise on prayer. To use the language of Milton—‘These are works that

could not be composed by the invocation of Dame Memory and her Siren

daughters, but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can enrich

with all utterance and knowledge, and send out his seraphim, with the

hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he

pleases, without reference to station, birth, or education.’ The

tent-maker and tinker, the fisherman and publican, and even a friar or

monk,[123] became the honoured instruments of his choice.

Throughout all Bunyan’s writings, he never murmurs at his want of

education, although it is often a source of humble apology. He honoured

the learned godly as Christians, but preferred the Bible before the

library of the two universities.[124] He saw, what every pious man must

see and lament, that there is much idolatry in human learning, and that

it was frequently applied to confuse and impede the gospel. Thus he

addresses the reader of his treatise on The Law and Grace—‘If thou find

this book empty of fantastical expressions, and without light, vain,

whimsical, scholar-like terms, it is because I never went to school, to

Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at my father’s house, in a very

mean condition, among a company of poor countrymen. But if thou do find

a parcel of plain, yet sound, true, and home sayings, attribute that to

the Lord Jesus his gifts and abilities, which he hath bestowed upon

such a poor creature as I am and have been.’[125] His maxim was—‘Words

easy to be understood do often hit the mark, when high and learned ones

do only pierce the air. He also that speaks to the weakest may make the

learned understand him; when he that striveth to be high, is not only

of the most part understood but of a sort, but also many times is

neither understood by them nor by himself!’[126] This is one of

Bunyan’s maxims, well worthy the consideration of the most profoundly

learned writers, and also of the most eloquent preachers and public

speakers.

Bunyan was one of those pioneers who are far in advance of the age in

which they live, and the narrative of his birth and education adds to

the innumerable contradictions which the history of man opposes to the

system of Mr. Owen and the Socialists, and to every scheme for making

the offspring of the poor follow in leading-strings the course of their

parents, or for rendering them blindly submissive to the dictates of

the rich, the learned, or the influential. It incontestably proves the

gospel doctrine of individuality, and, that native talent will rise

superior to all impediments. Our forefathers struggled for the right of

private judgment in matters of faith and worship—their descendants will

insist upon it, as essential to salvation, personally to examine every

doctrine relative to the sacred objects of religion, limited only by

Holy Writ. This must be done with rigorous impartiality, throwing aside

all the prejudices of education, and be followed by prompt obedience to

Divine truth, at any risk of offending parents, or laws, or resisting

institutions, or ceremonies which he discovers to be of human

invention. All this, as we have seen in Bunyan, was attended with great

mental sufferings, with painstaking labour, with a simple reliance upon

the Word of God, and with earnest prayer. If man impiously dares to

submit his conscience to his fellow-man, or to any body of men called a

church, what perplexity must he experience ere he can make up his mind

which to choose! Instead of relying upon the ONE standard which God has

given him in his Word; should he build his hope upon a human system he

could be certain only that man is fallible and subject to err. How

striking an instance have we, in our day, of the result of education,

when the mind does not implicitly follow the guidance of the revealed

Word of God. Two brothers, named Newman, educated at the same school,

trained in the same university, brought up under the same religious

system—all human arts exhausted to mould their minds into strict

uniformity, yet gradually receding from the same point in opposite

directions, but in equally downward roads; one to embrace the most

puerile legends of the middle ages, the other to open infidelity. Not

so with those who follow the teachings of the Word of God, by which,

and not by any church, they are to be individually judged at the great

day: no pontiff, no priest, no minister, can intervene or mediate for

them at the bar of God. There it will be said, ‘I know you, by your

prayers for Divine guidance and your submission to my revealed will’;

or, ‘I know you not,’ for you preferred the guidance of frail, fallible

men, to me, and to my Word—a solemn consideration, which, as it proved

a source of solid happiness and extensive usefulness to Bunyan in his

pilgrimage, so it insured to him, as it will to all who follow his

course, a solid foundation on which to stand at the great and terrible

day, and thus enable them to live as well as die in the sure and

certain hope of a triumphant entry into the celestial city.

THE THIRD PERIOD.

BUNYAN IS BAPTIZED, AND ENTERS INTO COMMUNION WITH A CHRISTIAN CHURCH

AT BEDFORD—IS SET APART TO FILL THE DEACON’S OFFICE, AND SENT OUT AS AN

ITINERANT PREACHER IN THE NEIGHBOURING VILLAGES.

Man is naturally led to seek the society of his fellow-men. His

personal progress, and the great interests of civilization, depend upon

the nature of his friendly intercourse and his proper associations. So

is it with the Christian, but in a much higher degree. Not only does he

require companions with whom he can enjoy Christian communion—of

sufferings and of pleasures—in seasons of depressing trials, and in

holy elevations—but with whom he may also form plans to spread the

genial influence of Christianity, which has blessed and so boundlessly

enriched his own soul. Christian fellowship and communion has received

the broad seal of heaven. ‘The Lord hearkened,’ when they that feared

him spake often to one another, ‘and a book of remembrance was written

before him for them that feared the Lord’ (Mal 3:16).

Bunyan possessed a soul with faculties capable of the highest enjoyment

of the communion of saints in church order. His ideas of mutual

forbearance—that ‘in lowliness of mind should each esteem others better

than themselves’—he enforces with very peculiar power, and, at the same

time, with delicate sensibility. After the pilgrims had been washed by

Innocence in the Interpreter’s bath, he sealed them, which ‘greatly

added to their beauty,’ and then arrayed them in white raiment of fine

linen; and ‘when the women were thus adorned, they seemed to be a

terror one to the other, for that they could not see that glory each

one on herself which they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they

began to esteem each other better than themselves.’[127] ‘The

Interpreter led them into his garden, where was great variety of

flowers. Then said he, Behold, the flowers are diverse in stature, in

quality and colour, and smell and virtue, and some are better than

some; also, where the gardener hath set them, there they stand, and

quarrel not with one another.’[128] ‘When Christians stand every one in

their places, and do their relative work, then they are like the

flowers in the garden that grow where the gardener hath planted them,

and both honour the gardener and the garden in which they are

planted.’[129] In the same treatise on Christian Behaviour, similar

sentiments are expressed in language extremely striking and beautiful.

‘The doctrine of the gospel is like the dew and the small rain that

distilleth upon the tender grass, wherewith it doth flourish and is

kept green (Deut 32:2).Christians are like the several flowers in a

garden that have upon each of them the dew of heaven, which, being

shaken with the wind, they let fall their dew at each other’s roots,

whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of one

another. For Christians to commune savourly of God’s matters one with

another, it is as if they opened to each other’s nostrils boxes of

perfume.’[130] Similar peaceful, heavenly principles, flow through

Bunyan’s Discourse of the Building, &c., of the House of God and its

inmates;[131] and blessed would it be if in all our churches every

believer was baptized into such motives of forbearance and brotherly

love. These sentiments do honour to the head and heart of the prince of

allegorists, and should be presented in letters of gold to every

candidate for church fellowship. A young man entertaining such opinions

as these, however rude his former conduct, being born again to

spiritual enjoyments, would become a treasure to the Christian society

with which he might be connected.

Works of John Bunyan — Volume 01 · 第 4 / 191 段