in the accompanying page, engravings of these relics, from drawings by
Mr. Edward Offor.
326. The chair is engraved above, and it will be seen that it has
suffered some little dilapidation since the last published engraving of
it. The legs have been cut down to suit the height of one of his
successors in the ministry!! With regard to the pulpit, an old resident
in Bedford says—The celebrated John Howard presented a new pulpit in
the room of the old one, which was cut up. Of part of the wood a table
was made, which now belongs to Mrs. Hillyerd.
327. Vol. iii., p. 297.
328. Vol. i., p. 714.
329. Vol. i., p. 686.
330. Vol. i., pp. 690, 691.
331. Vol. ii., p. 261.
332. Vol. iii., p. 748.
333. It is noticed, in a letter to the Secretary for Ireland, dated
September 6, 1688—‘On teusday last died the Lord Mayor Sir J. Shorter.
A few days before died Bunnian his lordship’s teacher or chaplain a man
said to be gifted that way though once a cobler’ [Ellis’s Cor., vol.
ii., p. 161]. We can excuse the sarcasm of a Roman Catholic, and with
equal good nature, and more truth, remark, that the great and eminent
pope, Sixtus V., was once a swineherd—not a bad school in which to
study how to keep up a despotic sway over the Papacy.
334. Vol. iii., p. 308.
335. Law and Grace, marg., vol. i., p. 524.
336. Vol. ii., p. 651.
337. Vol. i., pp. 634, 635.
338. Vol. ii., p. 653.
339. Vol. i., p. 647.
340. Vol. ii., p. 15.
341. Vol. ii., p. 497.
342. Vol. iii., p. 251.
343. Emblem xiv., vol. iii., p. 751.
344. Christ is made known by the sufferings of his saints, vol. ii., p.
701, and note.
345. Vol. iii., p. 751, and note.
346. Vol. iii., p. 595.
347. Vol. ii., p. 22.
348. Vol. ii., p. 257.
349. Works, folio, 1693.
***
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 SHOWED 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 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 afterwards 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 showed, what sight of, and
what trouble he had for sin; and also what various temptations he hath
met with, and how God hath carried him through them.
Corrected and much enlarged now by the Author, for the benefit of the
tempted and dejected Christian.
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR.
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 persecutest 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 travelling tinker,
to become a most eminent preacher; one whose native powers, sanctified
by harrowing but hallowing feelings, attracted the deep 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 labours 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 labours as
Bunyan, or Whitfield, or Wesley. All the members of the Christian
family are trained to fit them for 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).
The value of such a narrative to a terror-stricken prodigal is vividly
shown by Bunyan, in his ‘Jerusalem Sinner Saved,’ in 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,” 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 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 Zacheus, 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.’
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 way 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.’[1]
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 does his narrative appear to be
exaggerated. He was the son of a travelling tinker, probably a gipsy,
‘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 were 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, or fortune teller, a
Jesuit, a 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.[2]
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, perhaps the most remarkable of any upon
record. His own Giant Despair seized him with an iron grasp. He felt
himself 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 upon 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 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 at
paragraph No. 187. ‘Thus was I always sinking, whatever I did think or
do. So one day I walked to a neighbouring town, and sat down upon a
settle 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
which 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 by 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 scealan, 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.
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 through 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, heart-felt, 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 neighbours, 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.
A PREFACE, OR BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE PUBLISHING OF THIS WORK, WRITTEN BY
THE AUTHOR THEREOF, AND DEDICATED TO THOSE WHOM GOD HATH COUNTED HIM
WORTHY TO BEGET TO FAITH, BY HIS MINISTRY IN THE WORD.
Children, grace be with you, Amen. I being taken from you in presence,
and so tied up, that I cannot perform that duty that from God doth lie
upon me to youward, for your further edifying and building up in faith
and holiness, &c., yet that you may see my soul hath fatherly care and
desire after your spiritual and everlasting welfare; I now once again,
as before, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, so ‘now’ from the lions’
dens, from the mountains of the leopards (Song 4:8), do look yet after
you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired
haven.[3]
I thank God upon every remembrance of you; and rejoice, even while I
stick between the teeth of the lions in the wilderness, at the grace,
and mercy, and knowledge of Christ our saviour, which God hath bestowed
upon you, with abundance of faith and love. Your hungerings and
thirstings also after further acquaintance with the Father, in his Son;
your tenderness of heart, your trembling at sin, your sober and holy
deportment also, before both God and men, is great refreshment to me;
“For ye are my glory and joy” (1 Thess 2:20).
I have sent you here enclosed, a drop of that honey, that I have taken
out of the carcase of a lion (Judg 14:5-9). I have eaten thereof myself
also, and am much refreshed thereby. (Temptations, when we meet them at
first, are as the lion that roared upon Samson; but if we overcome
them, the next time we see them, we shall find a nest of honey within
them.) The Philistines understand me not. It is ‘something of’ a
relation of the work of God upon my own soul, even from the very first,
till now; wherein you may perceive my castings down, and raisings up;
for he woundeth, and his hands make whole. It is written in the
Scripture (Isa 38:19), “The father to the children shall make known the
truth of God.” Yea, it was for this reason I lay so long at Sinai (Deut
4:10,11), to see the fire, and the cloud, and the darkness, that I
might fear the Lord all the days of my life upon earth, and tell of his
wondrous works to my children (Psa 78:3-5).
Moses (Num 33:1,2) writ of the journeyings of the children of Israel,
from Egypt to the land of Canaan; and commanded also, that they did
remember their forty years’ travel in the wilderness. “Thou shalt
remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years
in the wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was
in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his commandments, or no”
(Deut 8:2). Wherefore this I have endeavoured to do; and not only so,
but to publish it also; that, if God will, others may be put in
remembrance of what he hath done for their souls, by reading his work
upon me.
It is profitable for Christians to be often calling to mind the very
beginnings of grace with their souls. “It is a night to be much
observed unto the Lord for bringing them out from the land of Egypt:
this is that night of the Lord to be observed of all the children of
Israel in their generations” (Exo 12:42). “O my God,” saith David (Psa
42:6), “my soul is cast down within me; therefore will I remember thee
from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.”
He remembered also the lion and the bear, when he went to fight with
the giant of Gath (1 Sam 17:36,37).
It was Paul’s accustomed manner (Acts 22), and that when tried for his
life (Acts 24), even to open, before his judges, the manner of his
conversion: he would think of that day, and that hour, in the which he
first did meet with grace;[4] for he found it support unto him. When
God had brought the children of Israel through the Red Sea, far into
the wilderness, yet they must turn quite about thither again, to
remember the drowning of their enemies there (Num 14:25). For though
they sang his praise before, yet “they soon forgat his works” (Psa
106:11-13).
In this discourse of mine you may see much; much, I say, of the grace
of God towards me. I thank God I can count it much, for it was above my
sins and Satan’s temptations too. I can remember my fears, and doubts,
and sad months with comfort; they are as the head of Goliah in my hand.
There was nothing to David like Goliah’s sword, even that sword that
should have been sheathed in his bowels; for the very sight and
remembrance of that did preach forth God’s deliverance to him. Oh, the
remembrance of my great sins, of my great temptations, and of my great
fears of perishing for ever! They bring afresh into my mind the
remembrance of my great help, my great support from heaven, and that
the great grace that God extended to such a wretch as I.