LECTURE III.

BUNYAN'S EXAMINATION.

Bunyan's use of his temptations.-The gloom of his mind in the early part of his imprisonment.-His faithfulness to Christ in the midst of it. His perfect disinterestedness. His little blind daughter.Relation of his examination and imprisonment.-That old enemy Dr. Lindale.-Bunyan's admirable answers and Christian deportment. The nature and preciousness of religious liberty.—Parable by Dr. Franklin.

THERE never was a man who made better use of his temptations, especially the temptations by his Great Adversary, than Bunyan. In the preface to his Grace Abounding, addressed to those whom God had counted him worthy to bring to the Redeemer by his ministry, he says, "I have sent you here enclosed a drop of the honey that I have taken out of the carcass of a lion. I have eaten thereof myself, 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." Nor was there ever a man who traced the parental care, tenderness, and goodness of God more clearly, or with more gratitude in those temptations, the designs of God in suffering such things to befall him, and the manner in which those designs were accomplished. It was for this, Bunyan said, that God suffered him to lie so long at Sinai, 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.' It was in the calm, clear light of heaven, in the light of divine mercy to his rescued soul, that Bunyan remembered his ways, his journeyings, the desert and the wilderness, the Rock that followed him, and the Manna that fed him. "Thou shalt remember all the ways which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness, to humble thee, and prove thee, and to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldst keep his commandments or no.' The grace of God was above Bunyan's sins, and Satan's temptations too; he could remember his fears and doubts and sad months with comfort; they were as the head of Goliah in his hand.' He sang of God's grace as the children of Israel, with the Red Sea between them and the land of their enemies.

66

It is not to be supposed that the temptations of Satan departed entirely from Bunyan when he was thrown into prison. On the contrary, he was for a time assailed through the same spirit of unbelief, of which his Adversary had make such fearful use, when he was passing through the Valley of Humiliation, and of the Shadow of Death. It was in the early part of his imprisonment, when he was in a sad and low condition for many weeks. A pretty business he says it was; for he thought his imprisonment might end at the gallows, and if it did, and he should be so afraid to die when the time came, and so destitute of all evidence of preparation for a better state hereafter, what could he do! These thoughts, revolved in his mind in various shapes, greatly distressed him. He was afraid of dishonouring his Saviour, and though he prayed earnestly for strength, yet no comfort came; and the only encouragement he could get was this: that he should doubtless have an opportunity to speak to the great multitudes that would come to see him die, and if God would but use his last words for the conversion of one single soul, he would not count his life thrown away nor lost. How delightful is the evidence of Bunyan's

disinterestedness, forgetfulness of self, and love to souls, even in the darkness and distress of his sore spiritual conflicts!

But still the things of God were kept out of his sight, and still the Tempter followed hard upon him; a desperate foe, and able still at times to overwhelm Bunyan's soul with anguish, although there remained only the hinder part of the tempest, and the thunder was gone beyond him. "Whither must you go when you die?" was the gloomy, moody, sullen question of unbelief in Bunyan's soul beneath his temptation. What will become of you? Where will you be found in another world? What evidence have you for heaven and glory, and an inheritance among them that are sanctified? For many weeks poor Bunyan knew not what to do; till at length it came to him with great power, that at all events, it being for the word and way of God that he was in this condition of danger, perhaps in the path of death, he was engaged not to flinch an hair's breadth from it. Bunyan thought, furthermore, that it was for God to choose whether he would give him comfort then, or in the hour of death, or whether he would or would not give him comfort in either, comfort at all; but it was not for Bunyan to choose whether to serve God or not, whether to hold fast his profession or not, for to this he was bound. He was bound, but God was free; "" "Yea," says he, "it was my duty to stand to his word, whether he would ever look upon me, or save me at the last, or not; wherefore, thought I, the point being thus, I am for going on, and venturing my eternal state with Christ, whether I have comfort here or no. If God doth not come in, thought I, I will leap off the ladder even blindfold into eternity; sink or swim, come heaven, come hell. Lord Jesus, if thou wilt catch me, do; if not, I will venture for thy name!

Well done, noble Bunyan! Faithful even unto death, and faithful even in darkness! Here was no imaginary temptation to sell thy Saviour, but a real inducement, by relinquishing thy confession of the truth, to escape from prison and from death; a temptation accompanied by dreadful darkness in thy soul. And yet, amidst it all, he ventured every thing upon Christ, yea, determined to die for him, even though rejected by him! Was not this a noble triumph over the Tempter? One would think that from this hour he would have left Bunyan in utter despair, yea, that he would have spread his dragonwings, and Bunyan have seen him no more for ever! And this indeed I believe that he did; for so soon as Bunyan had come to this noble and steadfast resolution, the word of the Tempter flashed across his soul, Doth Job serve God for nought? Hast thou not made an hedge about him? He serves God for benefits. Ah, thought Bunyan, then, even in the opinion of Satan, a man who will serve God when there is nothing to keep or to gain by it, is a renewed man, an upright man. Now, Satan, thou givest me a weapon against thyself. "Is this the sign of a renewed soul, to desire to serve God, when all is taken from him? Is he a godly man that will serve God for nothing, rather than give out? Blessed be God, then, I hope I have an upright heart; for I am resolved, God giving me strength, never to deny my profession, though I had nothing at all for my pains."

66

He

Here was a second fight with Apollyon, and a conquest of him for ever. Bunyan's perplexities, after this, were but as drops from the trees after a thunder-shower. greatly rejoiced in this trial. It made his heart to be full of comfort, because he hoped it proved his heart sincere. And indeed it did; a man that resolves to serve Christ, come heaven, come hell, shows, whatever be his darkness, that God is with him; and Bunyan's noble resolution, amidst such deep gloom over his soul, was a remarkable instance of obedience to that word of God by the prophet, Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God." Bunyan could now say, in a passage in the forty-fourth Psalm, brought powerfully to remembrance, Though thou hast sore broken us in the place of dragons, and covered us with the shadow of death, yet our heart is not turned back, neither have our steps declined from thy way." This indeed, is the truest sign of conversion, to venture all on Christ, and resolve to serve him come what may.

86

I

When a soul comes to this determination, it always finds light. And so it was with Bunyan; and he says himself, "I would not have been without this trial for much. am comforted every time I think of it; and I hope I shall bless God for ever for the teaching I have had by it." In this trial, Bunyan may in truth be said to have been added to the number of the witnesses in the Revelation, who overcame the Tempter by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives

unto the death. For Bunyan was as if he had been brought to the scaffold, and there taken the leap into eternity in the dark. This passage in Bunyan's prison experience reminds us powerfully of Christian's woful confinement in the dungeon of Giant Despair's castle from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, and of his sudden and joyful deliverance; nor can there be any doubt that some of the lights and shades in that beautiful passage grew out of those melancholy weeks, when Bunyan's soul as well as his body was in prison. Afterwards, his soul was unfettered, and then what cared he for the confinement of his body? He could say, in an infinitely higher sense than some of his enemies in the celebrated song of his times,

"Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage;

Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage."

In Bunyan's prison meditations, he describes most forcibly, in his own rude but vigorous rhymes, the freedom and triumph of his soul.

66

"For though men keep my outward man

Within their locks and bars,

Yet by the faith of Christ I can
Mount higher than the stars.

'Tis not the baseness of this state
Doth hide us from God's face;
He frequently, both soon and late,
Doth visit us with grace.

We change our drossy dust for gold,
From death to life we fly;

We let go shadows, and take hold
Of immortality.

These be the men that God doth count

Of high and noble mind;

These be the men that do surmount

What you in nature find.

First they do conquer their own hearts,

All worldly fears, and then

Also the Devil's fiery darts,

And persecuting men.

They conquer when they thus do fall,

They kill when they do die;

They overcome then most of all,

And get the victory."

66

Such poetry would have been noble from any man of genius, but it came from Bunyan's heart; it was his own experience. "I never had in my life," he says, so great an inlet into the word as now. Those scriptures that I saw nothing in before, are made in this place and state to shine upon me. Jesus Christ also was never more real and apparent than now; here I have seen and felt him indeed." Three or four sweet and thrilling scriptures were a great refreshment to him, especially that sweet fourteenth of John, Let not your heart be troubled," &c., and that of John xvi. 33, "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world ;" and also that inspiring, animating word, "We are come unto Mount Sion," &c. Sometimes, when Bunyan was "in the savour" of these scriptures, he was able to laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider. "I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another world. O the Mount Sion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and God the Judge of all, and the spirits of just men made perfect, and Jesus the Mediator, have been sweet unto me in this place! I have seen that here, which I am persuaded I shall never, while in this world, be able to express. I have seen a truth in this scripture, Whom having not seen ye love; in whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory.

86

never knew what it was for God to stand by me at all times, and at every offer of Satan to afflict me, as I have found him since I came in hither; for look how fears have presented themselves, so have supports and encouragements; yea, when I have started even as it were at nothing else but my shadow, yet God, as being very tender of me,

E

hath not suffered me to be molested, but would, with one scripture or another, strengthen me against all, insomuch that I have often said, Were it lawful, I could pray for greater trouble for the greater comfort's sake." Bunyan could now say with Paul, that as his sufferings for Christ abounded, so his consolation in Christ abounded likewise.

Bunyan had thought much upon these things before he went to prison; for he saw the storm coming, and had some preparatory considerations “warm upon his heart." Like a prudent, skilful, fearless mariner, he took in sail at the signs of the hurricane, and made all tight aloft, by prayer, and by consideration of the things which are unseen and eternal. He kept on his course, turning neither to the right hand nor the left, in his Master's service, but he made all ready for the tempest, and familiarized himself to the worst that might come, be it the prison, the pillory, or banishment, or death. With a magnanimity and grandeur of philosophy which none of the princes, or philosophers, or sufferers of this world ever dreamed of, he concluded that "the best way to go through suffering, is to trust in God through Christ as touching the world to come; and as touching this world to be dead to it, to give up all interest in it, to have the sentence of death in ourselves and admit it, to count the grave my house, to make my bed in darkness, and to say to corruption, Thou art my father; and to the worm, Thou art my mother and sister; that is, to familiarize these things to me."

It

With this preparation, when the storm suddenly fell, though the ship at first bowed and laboured heavily under it, yet how like a bird did she afterwards flee before it! reminds me of those two lines of Wesley,

"The tempests that rise,

Shall gloriously hurry our souls to the skies!”

So Bunyan's bark sped onward, amidst howling gales, with rattling hail and thunder, but onward, still onward, and upward, still upward, to heaven!

There is one passage in his experience at this time, which is deeply affecting, as showing what he had to break from and to leave, and in what difficult circumstances, as well as to encounter, in going to prison, and perhaps to death. "Notwithstanding these spiritual helps," he says, "I found myself a man encompassed with infirmities. The parting with my wife and poor children hath often been to me, in this place, as the pulling the flesh from my bones; and that not only because I am somewhat too fond of these mercies; but also because I should have often brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants that my poor family was likewise to meet with; especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer my heart than all I had beside. Oh, the thoughts of the hardships I thought my blind one might go under, would break my heart to pieces. Poor child, thought I, 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 shall blow upon thee! But yet, recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. Oh, I saw in this condition I was as a man who is pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children; yet, thought I, I must do it, I must do it. And now, I thought on those two milch kine, that were to carry the ark of God into another country, to leave their calves behind them."

Nothing could be more touching than this artless picture of Bunyan's domestic tender. ness, especially of the father's affection for his poor blind child. If any thing could have tempted him from duty; if any thing could have allured him to conform against his conscience, it had been this. But the Scriptures and the love of Christ supported him; and he who could venture to die for Christ, even while his soul was in darkness, could also trust in the promise, “Leave thy fatherless children; I will preserve them alive; and let thy widow trust in me. Verily, it shall go well with thy remnant.” So by divine grace, Bunyan overcame this temptation also.

And now, having followed this instructive picture of Bunyan's conflicts, partly while under fear of prison and of death, laying our tracery, as it were, over his own deeply engraven lines, to make it accurate, we come next to his own account of his commitment, which is one of the most humorous, characteristic, and instructive pieces in the English language. This is not to be found in the "Grace Abounding," but stands by itself in a tract entitled, "A Relation of the Imprisonment of Mr. John Bunyan, Minister of the Gospel at Bedford, in November, 1660; his Examination before the Justices; his Conference with the Clerk of the Peace; what passed between the Judges and his Wife, when she presented a Petition for his Deliverance, and so forth. Written by himself."

66

"I was indicted," says Bunyan, " for an upholder and maintainer of unlawful assemblies and conventicles, and for not conforming to the national worship of the Church of England; and after some conference there with the justices, they taking my plain dealing with them for a confession, as they termed it, of the indictment, did sentence me to a perpetual banishment, because I refused to conform. So being again delivered up to the jailer's hands, I was had home to prison, and there have lain now complete twelve years, waiting to see what God would suffer these men to do with me."

66

66

It is a striking phraseology which Bunyan uses, he "was had home to prison;" it was indeed a home to him, for God made it such, sweeter, by divine grace, than any earthly home in his pilgrimage. He had been preaching for years when he was first taken, which was upon the 12th of November, 1660. He had engaged, if the Lord permitted, to come and teach some of the people who desired it on that day; but the justice of the peace hearing of it, issued his warrant to take Bunyan, and mean time to keep a strong watch about the house, as if," says Bunyan, we that were to meet together in that place, did intend to do some fearful business, to the destruction of the country." Yea, they could scarce have been more alarmed and vigilant, if there had been rumour of a Popish gunpowder plot on foot. When, alas! the constable, when he came in, found us only with our Bibles in our hands, ready to speak and hear the word of God; for we were just about to begin our exercise. Nay, we had begun in prayer for the blessing of God upon our opportunity, intending to have preached the word of the Lord unto them there present; but the constable coming in, prevented us."

66

Bunyan might have escaped had he chosen, for he had fair warning, but he reasoned nobly, that as he had showed himself hearty and courageous in his preaching, and made it his business to encourage others, if he should now run, his weak and newly converted brethren would certainly think he was not so strong in deed as in word. "Also, I feared that if I should run, now that there was a warrant out for me, I might, by so doing, make them afraid to stand, when great words only should be spoken to them. Besides, I thought that seeing God of his mercy should choose me to go upon the forlorn hope in this country; that is, to be the first that should be opposed for the gospel; if I should fly, it might be a discouragement to the whole body that might follow after. And further, I thought the world thereby would take occasion at my cowardliness to have blasphemed the gospel, and to have had some grounds to suspect worse of me and my profession than I deserved." So Bunyan staid with full resolution, and began the meeting. And when brought before the justice, and questioned as to what he did there, and why he did not content himself with following his calling, for it was against the law that such as he should be admitted to do as he did; he answered, that the intent of his coming thither, and to other places, was to instruct and counsel people to forsake their sins, and close in with Christ, lest they did miserably perish, and that he could do both these without confusion, to wit, follow his calling, and preach the word also.

"Now," says Bunyan, in a passage where you have the germ of many a character that afterwards figured in the pages of the Pilgrim's Progress," Now, while my mittimus was a-making, the justice was withdrawn, and in comes an old enemy to the truth, Dr. Lindale, who when he was come in, fell to taunting at me with many reviling terms. To whom I answered, that I did not come thither to talk with him, but with the justice. Whereat he supposing that I had nothing to say for myself, triumphed as if he had got the victory, charging and condemning me for meddling with that for which I could show no warrant, and asked me if I had taken the oaths, and if I had not, it was pity but that I should be sent to prison. I told him that if I was minded, I could answer to any sober question put to me. He then urged me again, how I could prove it lawful for me to preach, with a great deal of confidence of the victory. But at last, because he should see that I could answer him if I listed, I cited to him that in Peter, which saith, As every man hath received the gift, even so let him minister the same.' Lindale. Ay, saith he, to whom is that spoken?

Bunyan. To whom? said I; why, to every man that hath received a gift from God. Mark, saith the apostle, as every man hath received the gift from God; and again, You may all prophesy one by one. Whereat the man was a little stopt, and went a softlier pace. But not being willing to lose the day, he began again, and said:

Lind. Indeed, I do remember that I have read of one Alexander, a copper-smith, who did much oppose and disturb the apostles: (aiming, it is like, at me, because I was a tinker.)