Part 7

BUNYAN ENTERS INTO CONTROVERSY—BECOMES AN AUTHOR—OFFENDS A PERSECUTING MAGISTRACY, AND IS PROCEEDED AGAINST AT THE SESSIONS UNDER AN ACT OF THE COMMONWEALTH—IS ACCUSED OF REPORTING A STRANGE CHARGE OF WITCHCRAFT—PUBLICLY DISPUTES WITH THE QUAKERS.

In proportion as a man becomes a public character, especially if eminent for talent and usefulness in the church, so will his enemies increase. The envy of some and the malice of others will invent slanders, or, what is worse, put an evil construction upon the most innocent conduct, in the hope of throwing a shade over that brightness which reveals their own defects. In this they are aided by all the craft, and cunning, and power of Satan, the archenemy of man. The purity of gospel truth carries with it the blessed fruits of the highest order of civilization; the atmosphere in which it lives is ‘good will to man.’ Salvation is a free gift, direct from God to the penitent sinner. It cannot be obtained by human aid, nor for all the gold in the universe. It cannot possibly be traded in, bought, or sold, but is bestowed without money or price. Hence the opposition of Antichrist. The cry or groan of the contrite enters heaven and brings down blessings, while the most elegant and elaborately-composed prayer, not springing from the heart, is read or recited in vain. Human monarchs must be approached by petitions drawn up in form, and which may be accepted, although the perfection of insincerity and hypocrisy. The King of kings accepts no forms; he knows the heart, and requires the approach of those who worship him to be in sincerity and in truth; the heart may plead without words, God accepteth the groans and sighs of those that fear him. These were the notions that Bunyan had drawn from the Holy Oracles, and his conversation soon made him a favourite with the Puritans, while it excited feelings of great hostility among the neighbouring clergy and magistrates.

Bunyan’s conversion from being a pest to the neighbourhood to becoming a pious man, might have been pardoned had he conformed to the Directory; but for him to appear as a Dissenter and a public teacher, without going through the usual course of education and ordination, was an unpardonable offence. The opinions of man gave him no concern; all his anxiety was to have the approbation of his God, and then to walk accordingly, braving all the dangers, the obloquy, and contempt that might arise from his conscientious discharge of duties, for the performance of which he knew that he alone must give a solemn account at the great day.

He entered upon the serious work of the ministry with fear and trembling, with much heart-searching, earnest prayer, and the advice of the church to which he was united, not with any pledge to abide by their decision contrary to his own conviction, but to aid him in his determination. His own account of these important inquiries is very striking:—‘After I had been about five or six years awakened, and helped myself to see both the want and worth of Jesus Christ our Lord, and also enabled to venture my soul upon him, some of the most able among the saints with us, for judgment and holiness of life, as they conceived, did perceive that God had counted me worthy to understand something of his will in His holy and blessed Word, and had given me utterance, in some measure, to express what I saw to others for edification; therefore they desired me, and that with much earnestness, that I would be willing at some times to take in hand, in one of the meetings, to speak a word of exhortation unto them. The which, though at the first it did much dash and abash my spirit, yet being still by them desired and entreated, I consented to their request, and did twice, at two several assemblies in private, though with much weakness and infirmity, discover my gift amongst them; at which they did solemnly protest, as in the sight of the great God, they were both affected and comforted, and gave thanks to the Father of mercies for the grace bestowed on me.

‘After this, sometimes, when some of them did go into the country to teach, they would also that I should go with them; where, though as yet I did not, nor durst not, make use of my gift in an open way, yet more privately, as I came amongst the good people in those places, I did sometimes speak a word of admonition unto them also, the which they, as the other, received with rejoicing at the mercy of God to me-ward, professing their souls were edified thereby.

‘Wherefore at last, being still desired by the church, after some solemn prayer to the Lord, with fasting, I was more particularly called forth, and appointed to a more ordinary and public preaching of the word, not only to and amongst them that believed, but also to offer the gospel to those who had not yet received the faith thereof.’

The ministry of Bunyan’s pastor, whom he affectionately called holy Mr. Gifford, must have been wonderfully blessed. In 1650 only twelve pious men and women were formed into a Christian church, and, although subject to fierce persecution, they had so increased that in 1672 ten members had been solemnly set apart for the work of the ministry, and they became a blessing to the country round Bedford. The benighted state of the villages was a cause of earnest prayer that men might be sent out, apt to teach, and willing to sacrifice liberty, and even life, to promote the peaceful reign of the Redeemer. The names of the men who were thus set apart were—John Bunyan, Samuel Fenn, Joseph Whiteman, John Fenn, Oliver Scott, Luke Ashwood, Thomas Cooper, Edward Dent, Edward Isaac, and Nehemiah Coxe. Four of these were permitted to fulfil their course without notoriety; the others were severely persecuted, fined and imprisoned, but not forsaken.

Encouraged by the opinion of the church which had been so prayerfully formed, that it was his duty to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation, Bunyan entered upon his important work, and was soon encouraged by a hope that his labours were useful to his fellow-men. ‘About this time,’ he narrates, ‘I did evidently find in my mind a secret pricking forward thereto, though, I bless God, not for desire of vain glory, for at that time I was most sorely afflicted with the fiery darts of the devil concerning my eternal state. But yet I could not be content unless I was found in the exercise of my gift; unto which also I was greatly animated, not only by the continual desires of the godly, but also by that saying of Paul to the Corinthians, “I beseech you, brethren [ye know the household of Stephanas, that it is the first-fruits of Achaia, and that they have addicted themselves to the ministry of the saints], that ye submit yourselves unto such, and to every one that helpeth with us, and laboureth” (1 Cor 16:15,16).

‘By this text I was made to see that the Holy Ghost never intended that men, who have gifts and abilities, should bury them in the earth, but rather did command and stir up such to the exercise of their gift, and also did commend those that were apt and ready so to do.

‘Wherefore, though of myself, of all the saints the most unworthy, yet I, but with great fear and trembling at the sight of my own weakness, did set upon the work, and did according to my gift, and the proportion of my faith, preach that blessed gospel that God had showed me in the holy Word of truth; which, when the country understood, they came in to hear the Word by hundreds, and that from all parts. And I thank God he gave unto me some measure of bowels and pity for their souls, which did put me forward to labour with great diligence and earnestness, to find out such a word as might, if God would bless it, lay hold of and awaken the conscience, in which also the good Lord had respect to the desire of his servant; for I had not preached long before some began to be touched, and be greatly afflicted in their minds at the apprehension of the greatness of their sin, and of their need of Jesus Christ.

‘But I at first could not believe that God should speak by me to the heart of any man, still counting myself unworthy; yet those who were thus touched would love me, and have a particular respect for me; and though I did put it from me that they should be awakened by me, still they would confess it, and affirm it before the saints of God. They would also bless God for me, unworthy wretch that I am! and count me God’s instrument that showed to them the way of salvation.

‘Wherefore, seeing them in both their words and deeds to be so constant, and also in their hearts so earnestly pressing after the knowledge of Jesus Christ, rejoicing that ever God did send me where they were; then I began to conclude that it might be so, that God had owned in his work such a foolish one as I; and then came that word of God to my heart with much sweet refreshment, “The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy” (Job 29:13).

‘At this therefore I rejoiced; yea, the tears of those whom God did awaken by my preaching would be both solace and encouragement to me. I thought on those sayings, “Who is he that maketh me glad, but the same that is made sorry by me” (2 Cor 2:2). And again, “Though I be not an apostle to others, yet doubtless I am unto you: for the seal of my apostleship are ye in the Lord” (1 Cor 9:2). These things, therefore, were as an another argument unto me, that God had called me to, and stood by me in this work.

‘In my preaching of the Word I took special notice of this one thing, namely, that the Lord did lead me to begin where his Word begins with sinners; that is, to condemn all flesh, and to open and allege, that the curse of God by the law doth belong to, and lay hold on all men as they come into the world, because of sin. Now this part of my work I fulfilled with great feeling, for the terrors of the law, and guilt for my transgressions, lay heavy on my own conscience. I preached what I felt, what I smartingly did feel, even that under which my poor soul did groan and tremble to astonishment. Indeed, I have been as one sent to them from the dead; I went myself in chains to preach to them in chains; and carried that fire in my own conscience that I persuaded them to beware of. I can truly say, that when I have been to preach, I have gone full of guilt and terror even to the pulpit-door, and there it hath been taken off, and I have been at liberty in my mind until I have done my work, and then, immediately, even before I could get down the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I was before: yet God carried me on with a strong hand, for neither guilt nor hell could take me off my work. Thus I went on for the space of two years, crying out against men’s sins, and their fearful state because of them.’

A man so much in earnest soon became a most acceptable and popular preacher. He studied his sermons carefully, and wrote such memorandums and notes as might refresh his memory before going into the pulpit, although his intensity of feeling, his ready utterance, and natural eloquence which charmed his hearers, and his extensive usefulness as a preacher, render it quite improbable that he restricted himself to notes while publicly engaged in sacred services. They must have aided him when he did not enjoy liberty of utterance. ‘At times when I have begun to speak the Word with much liberty, I have been presently so straitened in speech that I scarcely knew what I was about, or as if my head had been in a bag.’ They were valuable, also, as a proof that all he said had its exclusive reference to the world to come, without the mixture of politics, which might have given offence to the Government. Thus, when he was apprehended for neglecting to attend the church service and for preaching the gospel, in his conversation with Mr. Cobb, the magistrate’s clerk, he said ‘that, to cut off all occasions of suspicion from any, as touching the harmlessness of my doctrine, in private I would willingly take the pains to give any one the notes of all my sermons, for I do sincerely desire to live quietly in my country, and to submit to the present authority.’ In such troublesome times these would afford abundant proof that he was desirous of submitting to all the political institutions of his country, while he dared not conform to human laws affecting his faith or his mode of worshipping God, for which he alone was to stand answerable at the great day.

The employment of his time in earning a maintenance for his family, and his constant engagements to preach, interfered with the proper fulfillment of his duties as a deacon of the church. His resignation of this important office is thus recorded in the minutes of the church—‘At a meeting held on the 27th of the 6th month, 1657, the deacon’s office was transferred from John Bunyan to John Pernie, because he could no longer discharge its duties aright, in consequence of his being so much employed in preaching.’

We cannot wonder that his time was incessantly employed. His was no ordinary case. He had to recover and improve upon the little education he had received, and lost again by dissipated habits. He must have made every effort, by his diligent study of the Bible, to gain that spiritual knowledge which alone could enable him to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ, and that profound internal converse with the throne of God which appears in all his writings. In addition to all this, he was engaged in continual controversy with a variety of sects, which, in his sober judgment, opposed the simplicity of the gospel. Among these the Ranters, or Sweet Singers, were very conspicuous. It is difficult to discover what were their opinions, but they appear to have been nearly like the Dutch Adamites; they were severely persecuted, by public authority, under the Commonwealth, for blasphemy. George Fox found some of them in prison at Coventry in 1649, and held a short disputation with them. They claimed each one to be GOD, founding their notion on such passages as 1 Corinthians 14:25, ‘God is in you of a truth.’ Fox quaintly asked them whether it would rain the next day; and upon their answering that they could not tell, ‘Then said I unto them, God can tell.’ Strange as it may appear, the Ranters had many followers, while numerous pious people were troubled by their impudence and perversion of Scripture, but more especially by their being a persecuted people. Taking advantage of the inquiries that were excited by these strange doctrines, Bunyan determined to become an author, that he might set forth more extensively than he could do by preaching, the truths of the gospel in their native purity, simplicity, and beauty, as an antidote to fanaticism. The learned and eloquent looked with contempt upon the follies of the Ranters, Familists, and some loose Quakers, ‘and only deigned to abuse them with raillery, while the poor unlettered tinker wrote against them.’ To indite a work would be to him a pleasant recreation, but writing a book must have been extremely difficult, and have required extraordinary patience. This will be better seen by a specimen of his handwriting, now in the Bedford Library, found in Fox’s Book of Martyrs, the three volumes of which beguiled many of his tedious hours when in prison.

To write a volume, containing about twenty-five thousand words, must have been a serious task to such a scribe.

It is interesting to trace his improvement in calligraphy while recovering his lost education, and advancing in proficiency in an art so essential to his constantly extending usefulness. The next is a more useful running hand, however defective in orthography and grammar; it is from the first page of a copy of Bishop Andrews’ sermons—

The inscription in a copy of his Holy City, 1665, in Dr. Williams’ or the Dissenter’s Library, Red Cross Street, is in a still more useful hand, as good as that of most authors of that day—

The autograph in Powell’s Concordance, in the library of the Baptist Academy, Bristol, is in a fair hand—

His autograph is in possession of the Society of Antiquaries. The document to which it is subscribed is written in a remarkably neat hand, addressed to the Lord Protector. The signatures appear to be written as if in the writer’s best style.

Signature to the deed of gift—

In addition to the motives which have been noticed as inducing him to become an author, it appears, that in the course of his itinerating labours, he was much grieved with the general depravity which had overspread all classes of society. Evil communications had corrupted the great mass, and occasioned an aversion to hear the gospel, which plunged the people into carnal security. When roused by his preaching they too often found refuge in despair, or in vain attempts to impose upon God their unholy self-righteousness, endeavouring ‘to earn heaven with their fingers’ ends’; anything rather than submit to receive salvation as the free gift of God, and thus be led to consecrate all their powers to his glory and the comfort of society. A few who appeared to have thought on this solemn subject, without any change of conduct, are called by Bunyan ‘light notionists, with here and there a legalist,’ or those who relied upon a creed without the fruits of righteousness, and some of these imbibed notions of the strangest kind—that the light within was all-sufficient, without any written revelation of the will of God—that the account of Christ’s personal appearance on earth was a myth, to represent his residence in the persons of believers, in whom he suffers, is crucified, buried, and raised again to spiritual life—that such persons might do whatever their inclinations led them to, without incurring guilt or sin; in short, many sinned that grace might abound!! Some of them professed to be the Almighty God manifest in the flesh. All this took place in what was called a Christian country, upon which millions of treasure had been spent to teach religion by systems, which had persecuted the honest, pious professors of vital Christianity to bonds, imprisonment, and death. This had naturally involved the kingdom in impiety and gross immorality. The discovery of the awful state of his country, while he was engaged in preaching in the villages round Bedford induced him, in the humble hope of doing good, to become an author, and with trembling anxiety he issued to the world the first production of his pen, in 1656, under the title of Some Gospel Truths Opened According to the Scriptures; and, as we shall presently find, it met with a rough reception, plunging him into controversy, which in those days was conducted with bitter acrimony.

Before it was published, he sought the approbation and protection of Mr. John Burton, who had been united with Mr. Gifford in the pastoral charge of the church to which Bunyan belonged. The testimony that he gives is very interesting:—

‘Here thou hast things certain and necessary to be believed, which thou canst not too much study. Therefore pray that thou mayest receive it, so it is according to the Scriptures, in faith and love, not as the word of man but as the word of God, and be not offended, because Christ holds forth the glorious treasure of the gospel to thee in a poor earthen vessel, by one who hath neither the greatness nor the wisdom of this world to commend him to thee; for as the Scriptures saith, Christ, who was low and contemptible in the world himself, ordinarily chooseth such for himself and for the doing of his work. “Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world.” This man [Bunyan] is not chosen out of an earthly, but out of the heavenly university, the church of Christ, furnished with the Spirit, gifts, and graces of Christ—out of which, to the end of the world, the word of the Lord and all true gospel ministers must proceed. And, though this man hath not the learning or wisdom of man; yet, through grace, he hath received the teaching of God, and the learning of the Spirit of Christ. He hath taken these three heavenly degrees—union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the temptations of Satan—which do more fit a man for the mighty work of preaching the gospel, than all the university learning and degrees that can be had. I have had experience with many other saints of this man’s [Bunyan’s] soundness in the faith, his godly conversation, and his ability to preach the gospel, not by human art, but by the Spirit of Christ, and that with much success in the conversion of sinners. I thought it my duty to bear witness with my brother to these glorious truths of the Lord Jesus Christ.’

Bunyan was twenty-eight years of age when he published this work, and as he attacked the follies of his times, and what he deemed to be heresies, were exposed to Scripture light and condemned without mercy, it very naturally involved him in controversy. This brought forth the remarkable resources of his mind, which was stored with the Scriptures—his fearlessness—ready wit and keen retort, much sanctified by an earnest desire for the salvation of his opponents. An extraordinary man, younger than himself, full of energy and enthusiasm, entered the lists with him; and in Edward Burrough, very properly called a son of thunder and of consolation, Bunyan found an able disputant. He was talented, pious, and fearless in his Master’s work, and became eminently useful in laying the foundation of the Society of Friends. Soon after this he was numbered with the noble army of martyrs at the age of twenty-eight, being sacrificed in Newgate, at the shrine of religious intolerance.

At this time the Quakers were not united as a body, and consequently there was no test of character nor rules of discipline for those who assumed that name. They were very dissimilar men to their quiet and unobtrusive descendants. The markets, fairs, and every public concourse were attended by them, denouncing false weights and measures, drunkenness and villany, with the curses of the Almighty, calling upon the people, frequently with furious and fearful energy and powerful eloquence, to repent, and cry unto God, that his mercy might be extended to the salvation of their immortal souls. their zeal led them to many breaches of good manners. They would enter churches, and after the service, when the quiet folks were thinking of gratifying their bodies with a substantial dinner, they were arrested by the violent declamation of a man or woman, frequently denouncing the priest as being the blind leading the blind. This naturally led to a scene of riot and confusion, in which the Quakers were in many cases handled with great barbarity. among these disturbers were mingled persons of bad character. The violence of sectarian feeling in the churches thus disturbed, made no discrimination between bad and good; they were equally subjected to the roughest treatment. Bunyan attacked those who denied that Christ had appeared in the world as Emmanuel, God with us ‘in fashion as a man,’ that by the infinite merits of his life and death imputed to believers, they might be made holy. His attack was also directed against those who refused obedience to the written Word, or who relied upon inward light in contradistinction and preference to the Bible. The title to Burrough’s answer is a strange contrast to the violence of his language—The Gospel of Peace Contended for in the Spirit of Meekness and Love. In this spirit of meekness he calls his opponents ‘crafty fowlers preying upon the innocent’; and lovingly exclaims, ‘How long shall the righteous be a prey to your teeth, ye subtle foxes; your dens are in darkness, and your mischief is hatched upon your beds of secret whoredoms.’ The unhallowed spirit of the age mistook abuse for argument, and harsh epithets for faithful dealing.