The life, times, and characteristics of John Bunyan

Front matter

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J (D) M If B U H T A M

Preface

Foreigners have long wondered, tliat a century and a half should have passed away without producing a Life of Bunyan. We ourselves can hardly explain this anomaly in our biographical literature. It has certainly not arisen, however, from any national indifference to Bunyan. Perhaps, the real reason is, that we identify him with his Pilgrim : for Christian is, in one sense, as Montgomery has well said, " a whole-length Portrait of the Author himself." We thus feel that we can know nothing better of Bunyan ; and therefore we let our curiosity fall asleep. And yet, it ought to occur to us, that he was not likely to tell all the best, concerning himself, even in an Allegory ; for he was as modest as he was frank. Besides, his Pilgrim never writes Books, nor preaches Sermons ; and thus neither the literary nor the ministerial life of Bunyan has any place in the Allegory. In like manner, neither Doubting Castle, nor the Cage at Vanity Fair, is any emblem of his own imprisonment in Bedford Jail.

These considerations would have weighed with the public, and even led to a demand for a real Life of Bunyan, long ago, had not every new biographical Sketch, repeated merely the old facts. This repressed curiosity ; especially when neither Dr. Sou they nor Mr. Conder added any thing to the old facts, but new and beautiful forms. Even Mr. Ivimey, the historian of the Baptists, made but few discoveries, although he threw some valuable lights upon both " the Pilgrim " and " Grace Abounding."

There is neither censure nor sarcasm in these remarks. No one, perhaps, who had only a literary purpose to answer, would have " prepared an Ark for the saving " of Bunyan's Remains : whereas, the Author of this Volume had to complete the design of his " Experimental Guides for the Perplexed and Doubting," by an explanation of the wonderful and mysterious experience of John

VI PREFACE.

Bunyan. He had thus a motive which compelled him to search diligently. He had also, on both sides of the Atlantic, a circle of readers, large enough for his ambition, and upon whom he could calculate, if his researches were successful. They have been so, beyond even his most sanguine expectations. He discovered much that was unknown or unnoticed hitherto, as well as much to enlarge and illustrate what is best known in the history of Bunyan. Whilst, therefore, the Work is partly experimental, it is chiefly biographical, and intended equally for the world and the Church. It claims, indeed, to be as complete a Life of Bunyan, as his own documents, or the traditions of his country, can furnish, at this late period : for although as the Ark of his Remains, it has more pitch than paint upon it, and is rather Puritanical than fashionable in its shape, it is not ill stored with facts, nor overloaded with private opinions. There are, indeed, both opinions and principles in it, and not few of them ; but they are neither '•' cj-eeping things" in their form, nor uncatholic in their spirit. They are not ceremonious ; but they are never sectarian, except Protestantism be so.

This Volume will be followed by a Standard Family Edition of the Pilgrim's Progress, from Bunyan 's revised text ; and illustrated by old Prints or new Drawings of its local Scenery, and with Notes chiefly from his own pen. Some of the Prints were intended for his Life ; but only that of his Cottage could be finished in time. When ready, however, they may be had, separately, to bind up with this Volume.

The Author has been much facilitated in his researches by Librarians especially. As usual, he is not a little indebted to his friend Joshua Wilson, Esq. and to the Rev. Mr. Belcher o^ Bunyan Chapel, Greenwich. His obligations to friends at Bedford are acknowledged in the body of the Work. To his friend Mr. William Dash, of Kettering, he is indebted for the best of the old editions of the Pilgrim's Progress ; to Mr. Althens, Jun., for the loan of Boetius a' Bolswerts' Pilgrim, of 1627 ; to Mr. R. Baines, for not a few scarce books ; to B. Hanbury, Esq. of the Bank ; and last, though not least, to the Baptist College at Bristol.

R. P.

Bunyan's Genius

. 588

^w^nrnvn

Chapter I. Bunyan S Boyhood

A STRAXGER, wlio admires and loves Buiiyan, approaches Bedford as a poet or a divine would enter Smyrna ; the former thinking only of Homer, and the latter only of Polycarp ; and both trying how vividly they can realize the image of their favourite, amidst the scenes once consecrated by his presence, and still enshrined by his memory. It is no difficult thing, I suppose, for a real poet, if he believes Herodotus, to imagine the rocks of Smyrna vocal yet with the harp of Homer ; nor for a real Christian, if he credits Eusebius, to mistake the evening sun-light upon them, for the last glimmerings of Polycarps martyr-pile. Even I felt no difficulty, on entering Bedford, and walking around it, to associate every thing with Bunyan, or to enshrine any thing with his Pilgrim. The town, indeed, did not seem to me "the City of Destruction;" and the bridge was too good, and the water too clear, to allow the river to be regarded as " the Slough of Despond :" but it was hardly possible not to see Christian in every poor man who carried a burden, and Christiana in every poor woman who carried a market-basket in one hand, and led

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a child with the other. One sweet-looking- peasant girl, also, might have been Mercy's youngest sister. She would have been beautiful anywhere ; but she was enchanting upon the spot where Bunyan's Mercy (that finished portrait of female loveliness) had ivalked and wept. In like manner, any ragged urchin, if only robust and boisterous enough, and evidently the ringleader of fun or mischief, seemed the hoi/ Bunyan himself, although only a few minutes before a venerable old man had seemed the very personification of the Baptist Minister of Bedford : but no one seemed to be the Glorious Dreamer, although many looked sleepy enough.

There is wisdom as well as weakness in such reveries, when the memory that inspires them is really immortal. If Dr. Johnson was warranted to say at Icolmkill, ** Far from me be such frigid philosophy as would conduct us indifferent or unmoved over any ground dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue : that man is little to be envied whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Zona — that illustrious island, from which savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion ^" any man who can feel may rationally give way to all his feelings at Bedford bridge, where the Glorious Dreamer conceived and wrote The Pilgrim's Progress. That one book has diff'used more light over Christendom, than lona ever did over the Hebrides, even when it was " the luminary of the Caledonian regions." lona will never be the light of the North again : but the Pilgrim will be one of the chief lights of the world until the end of time.

It is strange, but it is true, that the mind, although occupied, and even absorbed, with the remote as well as the immediate visions of Bunyan's incalculable influence upon the world at large, should yet keep the eye of the musing visitor searching the fields and hedges around Bedford, for spots where the wild tinker-boy was likely to have played at cat, and taken dang-erous leaps, and robbed orchards. It is, however, impossible not to pause every now and then, as if the marks of his heels were yet visible on the other side of the ditches, and the marks of his knife upon the old trees. He was such a thorough scapegrace whilst a boy, that all marks of mischief and daring seem left by him alone.

Bunyan was born in the year 1628, at Elstow, a village near Bedford. His father, although a tinker, and thus, of course, a tramper often, and very poor, does not seem to have had any real connexion with the gypsy tinkers. Bunyan says, indeed, " My father's house (meaning his descent) was of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families of the land." This implies that they had somewhat identified themselves with the gypsies, or allowed themselves to be classed with them. He does not, however, say, nor insinuate, that his parents were personally despised by their neighbours, or that they were profligate. I have now before me two old Sketches of his Life, which state that they were " honest, and bore a fair character.'* He himself records with gratitude, that notwithstanding their meanness and inconsiderableness, God put it into their hearts " to put me to school, to learn me both to read and write, according to the rate of other poor men's children." — Life by Himself.

This is so rarely done by tinkers, even now, that the fact warrants the report of the " fair character" of his parents, at least for honesty and industry. It deserves special notice also, that Bunyan does not ascribe any of his own vices to their example. He says nothing, indeed, against them. On the other hand, however, he says but little in their favour, except that they sent him to school ; and that, most likely, cost them nothing. The Harpur Grammar School in Bedford, founded in 1556, by Sir W. Harpur, Mayor of London, for teaching '* grammar and good manners," was then open to the children of the poor j

LIFE OF BUNYAN.

and Elstow itself, as the seat of one of the oldest abbeys, may have had some charitable foundation of the same kind. It was then in the possession of the Hilldersons, and continued in that family until Whitbread purchased it. The abbey was founded in the reign of William the Conqueror, by Judith, his niece, the then Countess of Hunting"don : a fact which had, perhaps, no small influence upon her illustrious successor, Selina, when she consecrated her wealth, as well as her heart, to the glory of God.

If Bunyan was educated at the Harpur School, he certainly did not learn ^^ good mannerSy** whatever "grammar" he acquired there. " From a child," he says, *' I had but few equals, (considering my years, which were then but tender and few,) for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy name of God. Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became as a second nature to me."

Thus the school, whatever it was, had no moral influence upon the pupil. Bunyan says nothing of his master, as having ever interfered by the rod or reproof to check or warn him, when he began his open ungodliness. There is, therefore, some reason to suspect, that his teacher never tried at all, nor his parents much, to bring him up in the fear of God. This is a painful conclusion : but I know of nothing to soften it ; except we suppose that he drew the picture of his own boyhood, partly, in the early life of his Badman. He says of him, " From a child he was very bad. He used to be, as we say, the ringleader and master-sinner from a child ; the inventor of bad words, and an example of bad actions. When a child, his parents scarce knew when to believe he spake true. He was also much given to pilfer and steal the things of his fellow-children, or any thing at a neighbour's house. Yea, what was his father's could not escape his fingers. All was fish that came to his net. You must understand me, of trifles : for being yet but a child, he attempted no great matter, especially at first. He was also g-reatly given, and that whilst a lad, to grievous cursing and swearing. He counted it a glory to swear and curse ; and it was as natural to him as to eat, drink, and sleep." — Life and Death of Mr. Badman.

This is not only very like what Bunyan says of himself in his own Life ; but it is told with an ease and a point, which experience alone could have reached. Mr. Badman was, no doubt, a real character, whom Bunyan knew and studied : but he certainly studied " the young rogue's" boyhood, because of its resemblance to his own. He either saw himself reflected in that lad ; or he completed Badman's image from his own features, to heighten its effect. This being evidently the fact, it may be equally true that he refers to his own parents, when he says, " To my knowledge," young Badman's " way of living was a great grief to his parents ; for their hearts were much dejected at this beginning of their son. Nor did there want counsel or correction from them to him, if that would have made him better. He was told over and over again, in my hearing, that all liars should have their portion in the lake that burnetii with fire and brimstone." " I dare (to) say, he learned none of his wicked things from his father and mother, nor was he admitted to go much abroad among other children that were vile, to learn to sin of them."

If there be any reference here to his own parents, it will account for the fact, that he never blames them for a bad example ; and it will explain his " fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation," whilst he was but a boy. That is unaccountable, perhaps, otherwise. The following picture of his conscience tells at once, that solemn truths had been lodged in his memory, and fixed in his imagination, by some human means, whatever they were. " Even in my childhood, the Lord did scare and aflfrighten me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with fearful visions. For often, after I had spent this and the b LIFE OF BUNYAN

other day in sin, I have m mj bed been greatly afflicted while asleep, with the apprehension of devils and wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured to draw me away with them : of which I could never be rid.

*' Also I should at these years, be greatly afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the fearful torments of hell-fire : still fearing, that it would be my lot to be found at last among those devils and hellish fiends, who are bound down with the chains and bonds of darkness, unto the judgment of the great day.

" These things, I say, when I was but a child, — but nine or ten years old — did so distress my soul, that then in the midst of my many sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often cast down and afflicted in my mind therewith : yet could I not let go my sins. Yea, I was also, then, so overcome with despair of life and heaven, that I should often wish, either that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil, supposing they were only tormentors : or that if it must needs be I went thither, I might rather be a tormentor than be tormented myself."

All this is somewhat too much, both in vividness and variety, even for the mind of Bunyan ; unless we suppose that his parents, or his schoolmaster, or somebody else, had occasionally plied him with scriptural arguments against sin. True, the mental elements of the man were in the boy, even then ; and he had evidently read the Scriptures, and remembered their haunting visions of the wrath to come. It is impossible, however, to refer to them his wish to be a devil, that thus he might be a tormentor, instead of being tormented by devils. There is nothing in the Bible to suggest this daring and desperate wish : whereas there is, and always has been, in the vague generalities of popular talk, something akin to the idea, that the devil and his angels inflict more suffering upon the lost in hell than they themselves endure.

I am not anxious to arrive at a certain conclusion m this matter, although I thus go into the question of the origin of his " fearful dreams," and of his daring imaginings. All I want to show is, that whilst his night-dreams may be traced to the Bible, his day-dreams about the work of devils in the invisible world must be traced to some other source ; and none is so likely as parental warning. We know from Bunyan himself, that his father was not unacquainted with the Bible : "I asked my father," he says, " whether we were Israelites or no. For, finding in Scripture, that they were once the peculiar people of God, thought I, if I were one of the race, my soul must needs be happy. My father told me, * No, we were not.'" Now, although this question was put after his marriage, still, it reveals his opinion of his father's knowledge ; for, after having pondered the query long, he says, " At last I asked my father." One reason for this was, no doubt, a fancy that there might be some connexion between the Jews and the gypsies : but it is equally evident that he had also some confidence in his father's judgment. Hence, when that was against him, he said, " Then I fell in spirit as to that hope, and so remained." Once also, when he was silenced and put to shame by a reproof from a godless woman, he says, '^ I wished, with all my heart, that I was a little child again, that vay father might learn me to speak without swearing."

Even his " fearful dreams and visions" themselves prove, by their effect upon his spirits, and especially by the despair they threw him into when he awoke, that he must have seen and heard others, who had similar views of Eternal Judgment. A mere boy was utterly unlikely to apply to himself the fiercest terrors of the wrath to come, if he had never met with any one to point him to them, as deserved by himself. The fear of them haunted him even in the " very midst of his sports and vain companions :" a fact which proved that he knew the opinion of some of his neighbours in regard to himself. Indeed, nothing is more likely, than that he was often reproved and warned by th^ Puritans of Elstow and Bedford. His vices were just those, which the godly men and women of that age would most loudly condemn, and most solemnly threaten. His very sports were an abomination to them : for the popular games were then associated with principles which the Puritans both hated and dreaded. He would, therefore, have been often warned and reproved on the common, when a Puritan passed by, even if oaths and blasphemies had not been mingled with his sports ; and as they were the very shouts of his gambols, he was as sure to hear a " testimony" against both, as Scott's " Cuddie Headrig" from his mither^ against the popinjay.

Besides, there is good reason to suppose that Bunyan, if not invited into the houses of the Puritans, was allowed to be present in more than one or two of them, when they read to their families books of " christian piety." Accordingly, he says, " It was a prison to me, when I have seen some read these books. In these days, the thoughts of religion were very grievous to me. I could neither endure it myself, nor that any other should."

These hints throw some light upon the readiness with which his conscience applied to himself " the terrors of the Lord :" but they leave to the Bible and his incipient genius, all the solemn majesty of his young dreams. These, like his Pilgrim, were his own creations : for, although we may have dreamt of the Day of Judgment, much in the same form as Bunyan, we only dreamt his dream over again. We had his example to help our duller imaginations : whereas the tinker boy had read nothing but his Bible. No Glorious Dreamer had sent him. to bed, full of solemn thoughts, or dazzled with glaring visions. He himself knew, and never forgot, that fact ; and hence he ascribed his night visions to God alone: — "I have with soberness considered," he says.

LIFE OF I3UNYAN. 9

" that the Lord, even in my childhood, did scare and afFrighten me with fearful dreams."

Bunyan's dreams, then, were not always unsoftened in their issue. Ivimey has quoted one, to this effect : " Once he dreamed that he was just dropping- into the flames amongst the damned, when a person in white raiment suddenly plucked him as a brand out of the fire." This is the creation of his own mind, from the visions of Zechariah and John : and as " a dream cometh of a multitude of business," a part of his business on that day must have been the perusal of part of tivo books of the Holy Scriptures. We know also where he must have read on the morning of the day, when he dreamt " that the end of the world and the day of judgment were arrived ; and thought that the earth quaked, and opened her mouth to receive him." — Ivimey* s Life. Indeed, his own versions of such dreams (as we shall see) all manifest an extensive familiarity with the Scriptures, and a keen perception, yea, vivid realization, of whatever is most appalling or magnificent in eternal things. He dreamt like a prophet, whilst he was only a boy.

The finest illustration of this, Bunyan put into the lips of the man in the " chamber," at the Interpreter's house. That dream may, indeed, be a compound of mayiy of his own ; but it is all his own^ and evidently selected from distinct recollections of his own midnight visions in youth : it belongs, therefore, to his life, as much as to his allegory ; and is the first grand disclosure of the real power of both his mind and conscience, in boyhood. He himself did not write it for this purpose, nor think, perhaps, that it would ever reveal the original elements of his genius. That, however, is no reason why we should not view it in that light. Modesty as much binds us to say, that the boy Bunyan dreamt, as it bound him to say, " the man rising out of bed, in a chamber," said, " This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold, the heavens grew

LIFE OF BUN Y AN.

exceeding black ; also it thundered and lig-htened in such fearful wise, that it put me in an agony. So I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate : upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with thousands of heaven. They were all in flaming fire ; also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, * Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment.' And with that, the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth. Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward ; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains.

" Then I saw the man that sat on the cloud, open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of the fierce flame which issued out, and came before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar. I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, ' Gather together the tares, the chaff, and the stubble, and cast them into the burning lake.' And with that, the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I stood ; out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke and coals of fire, with hideous noises.

" It was also said to the same persons, ' Gather my tvheat into the garner !* And with that, I saw^ many catched up and carried away in the clouds ; but I was left behind ! I also sought to hide myself, but I could not ; for the man upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me. My sins also came into my mind, and my conscience did accuse me on every side ; for, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in his countenance. But what affrighted me most was, that the angels gathered up several, and left me behind : also, the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood." — Pilgrim.

Splendid as this painting is, there is not a feature of it.

which was not shadowed out in his own first dreams. It only embodied fully, and emblazons a little, what disturbed the sleep of the lisping blasphemer of Elstow, when neither the fatigue nor the excitement of daring- sports could put down the energies of his mind or conscience.

These energies, however, are not seen in all their early strength, in the current versions of his young dreams. I therefore subjoin another version of them, from the sketch of his Life, in the British Museum : — ■

" He has often, since his conversion, confest with horror and detestation of himself, that when he was but a child, or at least a stripling youth, he had but few equals for lying, swearing, and blaspheming God's holy name, which became then to him as a second nature ; not considering that he must die, and one day give an account before the dread tribunal of the God of all the earth ; living, as it were, without God in the world ; the thoughts of which, when, by the light of divine grace, he came to understand his dangerous condition, drew many showers of tears from his sorrowful eyes, and sighs from his groaning heart.

" The first thing that sensibly touched him in this his rmregenerate state, were fearful dreams, and visions of the night, which often made him cry out in his sleep, and alarm the house, as if somebody had been about to murder him ; and being waked, he would start, and stare about him with such a wildness, as if some real apparition had yet remained ; and generally these dreams were about evil spirits, in monstrous shapes and forms, that presented themselves to him in threatening postures, as if they would have taken him away, or torn him in pieces : at some times they seemed to belch flame, at other times a contagious smoke, with horrible noises and roaring.

" This continued for some time, and there came others somewhat of another nature, seemingly more pleasing and alluring to entice those sweet darling sins that so much bewitch the world, and carry men away to the pit of destruction, as carnal concupiscential desires, thn-st after rich and unlawful gain, vain-glory, and pomp, with manyothers of the same black stamp ; yet, when he began somewhat seriously to consider, even these wrought darkness and confusion in his soul, and took him with unaccountable melancholy. Once he dreamt he saw the face of the heavens, as it were, all on fire, the firmament crackling and shivering as with the noise of mighty thunders, and an archangel flew in the midst of heaven sounding a trumpet, and a glorious throne was seated in the east, whereon sat one in brightness like the morning star ; upon which he, thinking it was the end of the world, fell upon his knees, and, with uplifted hands towards heaven, cried, ' O Lord God, have mercy upon me ! what shall I do ! the day of judgment is come, and I am not prepared !' when immediately he heard a voice behind him exceedingly loud, saying, * Repent ;' and upon this he awoke, and found it but a dream. Yet, as he said, upon this he grew more serious, and it remained in his mind a considerable time.

" At another time he dreamed that he was in a pleasant place, jovial and rioting, banqueting and feasting his senses, when immediately a mighty earthquake rent the earth, and made a wide gap, out of which came bloody flames, and the figures of men tossed up in globes of fire, and falling down again with horrible cries, shrieks, and execrations, whilst some devils that were mingled with them laughed aloud at their torments ; and whilst he stood trembling at this sight, he thought the earth sunk under him, and a circle of flame inclosed him ; but when he fancied he was just at the point to perish, one in white shining raiment descended and plucked him out of that dreadful place, whilst the devils cried after him to leave him with them, to take the just punishment his sins had deserved ; yet he escaped the danger, and leaped for joy when he awoke and found it but a dream. Many others, somewhat to the same purpose, I might mention, as he at sundry times related them ; but, not to be tedious, these for a taste may suffice."