William Harmon Norton - "The Elements of Geology"

John Sherburne Sleeper - "Jack in the Forecastle"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1598"

A. A. Milne - "Not that it Matters"

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Books: The Works of John Bunyan Volume 1

J >> John Bunyan >> The Works of John Bunyan Volume 1





--'O happie he who doth possesse
Christ for his fellow prisoner, who doth gladde
With heavenly sunbeams, goales that are most sad.'


(Written by William Prynne, on his Prison wall, in the Tower.)

The men who arraign their fellows before any standard of orthodoxy,
or claim the right of dictating forms of belief or modes of worship
under pains or penalties, are guilty of assuming the prerogative
of the Most High, and of claiming, for their frail opinions,
infallibility. Such are guilty of high treason against the Majesty
of heaven--and all their machinations have a direct tendency to
destroy human happiness--the wealth of the nation, and that universal
good-will among men which the gospel is intended to establish. Such
men present to us the various features of antichrist, the dread
enemy of mankind.

The duty of every intelligent creature is to watch the operations
of nature, that he may be led to just perceptions of the greatness
of the Creator, and the goodness of his immutable laws. Soon he
finds his perceptions dim, and is conscious of evil propensities,
which baffle all his efforts at sinless perfection. He finds nothing
in nature to solve the solemn inquiry how sin is to be pardoned,
and evil thoughts and habits to be rooted out. The convinced sinner
then feels the necessity of a direct revelation from God; and in
the Bible alone he finds that astounding declaration, which leaves
all human philosophy at an immeasurable distance--'Ye must be
born again.' God only can effect the wondrous change--man, priest,
prophet, or magi, can do him no good--his terror-stricken conscience
drives him to his Creator, and faith in the Redeemer causes
consolation to abound.

In every kingdom of the world, the Christian inquirer is met by the
opposition of antichrist, in some form or other, attempts will
be made to limit his free-born spirit to human inventions and
mediations in seeking Divine mercy. He feels that he is bound, by
all his hopes of happiness, here and hereafter, to obey God rather
than man, in everything pertaining to spiritual religion. In his
simple obedience to the Word of God, he braves all dangers, sure
of the Divine blessing and support while encountering obloquy,
contempt, allurements, and persecution, in its varied polluted
forms and appalling cruelties.

After the decease of Oliver Cromwell, it soon became apparent that
the exiled king would be restored. In the prospect of that event,
Charles II promised a free pardon to all his subjects, excepting
only such persons as should be excepted by parliament; and 'we
do declare a liberty to tender consciences, and that no man shall
be disquieted or called in question for differences of opinion in
matters of religion, which do not disturb the peace of the kingdom.'
Who could imagine, that, in the face of this solemn declaration,
acts, the most oppressive and tyrannical, would be passed--compelling
pretended uniformity in belief and real uniformity in the mode of
public worship--driving the most pious and useful clergymen from
their pulpits and livings--preventing them from becoming tutors
or schoolmasters--and not suffering them to live within five miles
of a city or town. Ruinous penalties were inflicted, not only on
every minister, but upon every hearer, who met to worship God in
private houses or in the fields and woods. Christians, convinced
of the wickedness of such laws, strove, by every possible means,
to evade the penalties, with a stern determination to worship God
in the way that their conscience led them. They met their beloved
ministers in private places, and at the most unseasonable hours.
It is said that Bunyan, to avoid discovery, went from a friend's
house disguised as a carter; with his white frock, wide-awake cap,
and his whip in his hand, to attend a private meeting in a sheltered
field or barn. To prevent these meetings, severe and almost
arbitrary penalties were enforced, a considerable part of which
went to the informers--men of debauched habits and profligate
principles. With all their vigilance, these prohibited meetings
could not be prevented. In some cases, the persecuted disciples of
a persecuted Lord took houses adjoining each other, and, by opening
internal communications, assembled together. In some cases, the
barn or room in which they met, had a door behind the pulpit, by
which the preacher could escape. A curious letter, preserved in
the archives at Devonshire House, states, that when a Christian
assembly was held near Devonshire Square, while the minister was in
his sermon, the officers and trained bands entered the meeting-house.
The preacher immediately ceased preaching, and gave out the lines
of a hymn, which the congregation joined in singing, and the officers
waited till the devotional exercise was ended. The preacher, taking
advantage of their hesitation, made his escape by a door at the
back of the pulpit; 'thus,' says the quaint Quaker, 'he choked
the informers off with his hymn.' In the Life of Badman are some
illustrative anecdotes relating to informers and their violent ends,
with an interesting cut of a religious meeting in the fields. One
informer is in a neighbouring tree, to identify the meeters; while
in the distance, another is running for the officers, with this
verse under the print:--


'Informer, art thou in the tree?
Take heed, lest there thou hanged be:
Look likewise to thy foot-hold well;
Lest, if thou slip, thou fall to hell.'


In many cases the justices considered a field preacher to be
equally guilty with a regicide.[210] One of the informers, named W.
S., was very diligent in this business; 'he would watch a-nights,
climb trees, and range the woods a-days, if possible to find out
the meeters, for then they were forced to meet in the fields.' At
length he was stricken by the hand of God, and died a most wretched
object.[211] The cruelties that were inflicted upon Dissenters
are scarcely credible. Penn, the Quaker, gives this narrative of
facts:--The widow's mite hath not escaped their hands; they have
made her cow the forfeit of her conscience, not leaving her a bed
to lie on, nor a blanket to cover her; and what is yet more barbarous,
and helps to make up this tragedy, the poor helpless orphan's milk,
boiling over the fire, was flung away, and the skillet made part
of their prize; that, had not nature in neighbours been stronger
than cruelty in informers and officers, to open her bowels for
their relief, they must have utterly perished.[212] One of these
infamous, hard-hearted wretches in Bedford, was stricken, soon
after, with death; and such had been his notorious brutality, that
his widow could not obtain a hearse, but was obliged to carry his
body to the grave in a cart.

It is gratifying to leave these horrors--these stains upon
our national history--for a moment, to record an event which took
place about fifty years back. The Rev. S. Hillyard, the pastor of
Bunyan's church, thus writes:--'When our meeting-house was lately
repaired, we were allowed, by the Lord Lieutenant and the justices,
to carry on our public worship, for a quarter of a year in the
town-hall, where, if it had been standing in Mr. Bunyan's time,
he must have been tried and committed to jail for preaching.' How
different our position from that of our pilgrim forefathers.

The justices, if the law had allowed them, would, from the first,
have prevented Bunyan's preaching. When they had the power,
he possessed nothing to excite the cupidity of an informer: this,
with the caution of his friends, saved him, for some months, from
being apprehended; they met privately in barns, milk-houses, and
stables, or in any convenient place in which they were not likely
to be disturbed. In addition to these services, every opportunity was
embraced to visit his friends--praying with them, and administering
consolation, arming them with a steady resolve to be patient
in suffering, and to trust in God for their safety and reward. At
length an information was laid, and he was caught in the very act
of worshipping God with some pious neighbours. Bunyan's account of
this event is deeply interesting; but the want of sufficient space
prevents my giving more than an abstract of it, referring the reader
to his Grace Abounding for fuller details.

On November 12, 1660, as the winter was setting in, having been
invited to preach at Samsell, in Bedfordshire, he prepared a sermon
upon these words--'Dost thou believe in the Son of God?' (John
9:35); from which he intended 'to show the absolute need of faith
in Jesus Christ, and that it was also a thing of the highest concern
for men to inquire into, and to ask their own hearts whether they
had faith or no.'[213] He had then been a preacher of the glorious
gospel of Christ for five or six years, without any interruption;
for, although indicted, he had continued his useful career, and
through grace had received great encouragement and eminent proofs
of the Divine blessing.

Francis Wingate, a neighbouring justice of the peace, having heard
of the intended meeting, issued his warrant to bring the preacher
before him. The intention of the magistrate was whispered about,
and came to Bunyan's ears before the meeting was held, probably to
give him an opportunity of escape. His friends, becoming alarmed
for his safety, advised him to forego the opportunity. It was a
trying moment for him; he had a beloved wife to whom he had not been
long married, and four dear children, one of them blind, depending
upon his daily labour for food. If he escaped, he might continue
his stolen opportunities of doing good to the souls of men. He
hesitated but for a few minutes for private prayer; he had hitherto
shown himself hearty and courageous in preaching, and it was his
business to encourage the timid flock. 'Therefore, thought I, if I
should now run and make an escape, it will be of a very ill savour
in the country; what will my weak and newly converted brethren
think of it? If I should run, now 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.' He retired into a close, privately,
to seek Divine direction, and came back resolved to abide the will
of God. It was the first attempt, near Bedford, to apprehend a
preacher of the gospel, and he thus argued with himself--'If God,
of his mercy, should choose me to go upon the forlorn hope, 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 should follow
after. And I thought that the world thereby would take occasion
at my cowardliness, to have blasphemed the gospel.'[214] These
considerations brought him to the noble resolution of fulfilling his
duty, under all its difficulties and dangers. In these reasonings
the same honourable decision of mind animated him which impelled
Daniel, and the three Hebrew youths, to violate the wicked laws of
the nation in which they lived, because these laws were opposed to
the will of God. He and they, as well as the apostles, judged for
themselves, and opposed statutes or ancient customs which, in their
opinion, were contrary to the Divine law by which they were to be
judged at the solemn and great day. Nor did they, in the prospect
of the most dread personal sufferings, hesitate to follow the
convictions of their minds. Some laws are more honoured in the breach
than in the observance of them. The law of Pharaoh to destroy the
male children of the Israelites, in ancient times, and the present
Popish laws of Tuscany, that the Bible shall not be read, are laws
so contrary to common sense, and the most sacred duties of man,
that 'God dealt well' with those who broke them in Egypt, as he has
ever dealt with those who have thus honoured him. The millions of
prayers that were offered up for a blessing upon the confessors,
Madiai, have been answered. Had they perished in the prisons of
Tuscany, they would have joined the noble army of martyrs before
the throne of God, to witness his judgments upon that persecuting
church which has shed so much holy blood.

When Bunyan was advised to escape by dismissing the meeting, which
consisted of about forty persons, he replied, 'No, by no means; I
will not stir, neither will I have the meeting dismissed. Come, be
of good cheer, let us not be daunted; our cause is good, we need
not be ashamed of it; to preach God's Word is so good a work, that
we shall be well rewarded if we suffer for that.'[215] All this
took place about an hour before the officers arrived. The service
was commenced with prayer at the time appointed, the preacher and
hearers had their Bibles in their hands to read the text, when the
constable and his attendants came in, and, exhibiting the warrant,
ordered him to lave the pulpit and come down; but he mildly told
him that he was about his Master's business, and must rather obey
his Lord's voice than that of man. Then a constable was ordered
to fetch him down, who, coming up and taking hold of his coat, was
about to remove him, when Mr. Bunyan fixed his eyes steadfastly
upon him; having his Bible open in his hand, the man let go, looked
pale, and retired; upon which he said to the congregation, 'See
how this man trembles at the Word of God.' Truly did one of his
friends say, 'he had a sharp, quick eye.' But being commanded in
the king's name, he went with the officer, accompanied by some of
his friends, to the magistrate's residence. Before they left, the
constable allowed him to speak a few words to the people of counsel
and encouragement. He declared that it was a mercy when called to
suffer upon so good an account; that it was of grace that they had
been kept from crimes, which might have caused their apprehension
as thieves and murderers, or for some wickedness; but by the
blessing of God it was not so, but, as Christians, they were called
to suffer for well-doing; and that we had better be persecuted than
the persecutors. The constable took him to the justice's house, but
as he was from home, to save the expense and trouble of charging
a watch to secure his prisoner, he allowed him to go home, one of
his friends undertaking to be answerable for his appearance the
next day. On the following morning they went to the constable and
then to the justice. The celebrated Quaker, John Roberts, managed
an affair of that kind better. There was plenty of time to have
held and dismissed the meeting before the constable arrived, and
then he might have done as Roberts did--made the best of his way
to the magistrate's house, and demanded, 'Dost thou want me, old
man?' and when asked whether or not he went to church, his ready
reply was, 'Yes, sometimes I go to the church, and sometimes the
church comes to me.'[216]

When Bunyan and the constable came before Justice Wingate, he inquired
what the meeters did, and what they had with them; suspecting that
they met armed, or for treasonable practices: but when the constable
told him that they were unarmed, and merely assembled to preach and
hear the Word, he could not well tell what to say. Justice Wingate
was not the only magistrate who had felt difficulties as to the
construction of the persecuting acts of 35 Eliz. and 15 Chas. II.
Had he taken an opinion, as one of the justices at that time did,
it might have saved him from the infamy and guilt of punishing an
innocent man. The case was this:--'Two persons of insolent behaviour,
calling themselves informers, demanded, on their evidence of having
been present, without summons or hearing in presence of the accused,
that a fine of £100 should be levied; they were at the meeting and
heard no Common Prayer service.' The opinion was that there must
be evidence showing the intent, and that the meeting was held
under colour and pretence of any exercise of religion to concoct
sedition.[217] Mr. Wingate asked Bunyan why he did not follow his
calling and go to church? to which he replied, that all his intention
was to instruct and counsel people to forsake their sins, and that
he did, without confusion, both follow his calling and preach the
Word. At this the angry justice ordered his commitment to jail,
refusing bail, unless he would promise to give up preaching. While
his mittimus was preparing, he had a short controversy with an
old enemy of the truth, Dr. Lindale, and also with a persecuting
justice, Mr. Foster, who, soon after, sorely vexed the people
of God at Bedford. They tried their utmost endeavours to persuade
him to promise not to preach; a word from him might have saved his
liberty; but it was a word which would have sacrificed his religious
convictions, and these were dearer to him than life itself. This
was a trying moment, but he had been forewarned of his danger by
the extraordinary temptation to sell Christ narrated in his Grace
Abounding. His feelings, while they were conducting him to the
prison, were so cheering as to enable him to forget his sorrows;
he thus describes them--'Verily, as I was going forth of the doors
I had much ado to forbear saying to them, that I carried the peace
of God along with me; and, blessed be the Lord, I went away to
prison with God's comfort in my poor soul.'[218]

Tradition points out the place in which this eminently pious man
was confined, as an ancient prison, built with the bridge over the
river Ouse, supported on one of the piers near the middle of the
river.[219] As the bridge was only four yards and a half wide,
the prison must have been very small. Howard, the philanthropist,
visited the Bedford prison, that which was dignified as the county
jail about 1788, and thus describes it:--'The men and women felons
associate together; their night-rooms are two dungeons. Only one
court for debtors and felons; and no apartment for the jailer.'[220]
Imagination can hardly realize the miseries of fifty or sixty pious
men and women, taken from a place of public worship and incarcerated
in such dens or dungeons with felons, as was the case while Bunyan
was a prisoner. Twelve feet square was about the extent of the
walls; for it occupies but one pier between the center arches of
the bridge. How properly does the poor pilgrim call it a certain
DEN! What an abode for men and women who had been made by God kings
and priests--the heirs of heaven! The eyes of Howard, a Dissenter,
penetrated these dens, these hidden things of darkness, these abodes
of cruelty. He revealed what lay and clerical magistrates ought to
have published centuries before, that they were not fit places in
which to imprison any, even the worst of criminals. He denounced
them, humanity shuddered at the discovery, and they were razed to
their foundations. In this den God permitted his honoured servant,
John Bunyan, to be incarcerated for more than twelve years of the
prime of his life. A man, whose holy zeal for the salvation of
sinners, whose disinterested labours, whose sufferings for Christ
prove his apostolical descent much better than those who claim
descent from popes, and Wolsey or Bonner--those fiends in human
shape.

Bedford bridge was pulled down in the year 1811, when the present
handsome bridge was built. One of the workmen employed upon the
ruins found, among the rubbish, where the prison had stood, a ring
made of fine gold, bearing an inscription which affords strong
presumptive evidence that it belonged to our great allegorist. Dr.
Abbot, a neighbouring clergyman, who had daily watched the labours
of the workmen, luckily saw it, and saved it from destruction. He
constantly wore it, until, drawing near the end of his pilgrimage,
in 1817, he took it off his own finger and placed it upon that of
his friend Dr. Bower, then curate of Elstow,[221] and at present
the dean of Manchester, charging him to keep it for his sake. This
ring must have been a present from some person of property, as a
token of great respect for Bunyan's pious character, and probably
from an indignant sense of his unjust and cruel imprisonment. By
the kind permission of the dean, we are enabled to give a correct
representation of this curious relic.[222][223]

Bunyan was thirty-two years of age when taken to prison. He had
suffered the loss of his pious wife, whose conversation and portion
had been so blessed to him. It is not improbable that her peaceful
departure is pictured in Christiana's crossing the river which has
no bridge. She left him with four young children, one of whom very
naturally and most strongly excited his paternal feelings, from
the circumstance of her having been afflicted with blindness. He
had married a second time, a woman of exemplary piety and retiring
modesty; but whose spirit, when roused to seek the release of her
beloved husband, enabled her to stand unabashed, and full of energy
and presence of mind, before judges in their courts, and lords in
their mansions. When her partner was sent to jail, she was in that
peculiar state that called for all his sympathy and his tenderest
care. The shock was too severe for her delicate situation; she became
dangerously ill, and, although her life was spared, all hopes had
fled of her maternal feelings being called into exercise. Thus did
one calamity follow another; still he preserved his integrity.[224]

Bunyan was treated with all the kindness which many of his jailers
dared to show him. In his times, imprisonment and fetters were
generally companions. Thus he says--'When a felon is going to be
tried, his fetters are still making a noise on his heels.'[225] So
the prisoners in the Holy War are represented as being 'brought in
chains to the bar' for trial. 'The prisoners were handled by the
jailer so severely, and loaded so with irons, that they died in the
prison.'[226] In many cases, prisoners for conscience' sake were
treated with such brutality, before the form of trial, as to cause
their death. By Divine mercy, Bunyan was saved from these dreadful
punishments, which have ceased as civilization has progressed, and
now cloud the narratives of a darker age.

After having lain in prison about seven weeks, the session was
held at Bedford, for the county; and Bunyan was placed at the bar,
indicted for devilishly and perniciously abstaining from coming to
church to hear Divine service, and as a common upholder of several
unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great disturbance and
distraction of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to the
laws of our sovereign lord the king. In this indictment Bunyan
is not described as 'of Elstow' but 'of Bedford.' Probably he had
removed to Bedford soon after he joined Gifford's church. The bench
was numerous, and presided over by Justice Keelin.[227] If this was
Sergeant Kelynge who, the following year, was made Lord Chief-Justice,
he was a most arbitrary tyrant, equaled or excelled only by Judge
Jeffreys. It was before him that some persons were indicted for
attending a conventicle; but it being only proved that they had
assembled on the Lord's-day with Bibles in their hands without
prayer-books, and there being no proof that their meeting was only
under colour or pretence of religion, the jury acquitted them. Upon
this he fined each of the jury-men one hundred marks, and imprisoned
them till the fines were paid. Again, on a trial for murder, the
prisoner being under suspicion of Dissent, was one whom the judge
had a great desire to hang, he fined and imprisoned all the jury
because, contrary to his direction, they brought in a verdict
of manslaughter! Well was it said, that he was more fit to charge
the Roundheads under Prince Rupert than to charge a jury. After
a short career, he fell into utter contempt.[228] He entered into
a long argument with the poor tinker, about using the liturgy of
the Church of England, first warning him of his danger if he spake
lightly of it. Bunyan argued that prayer was purely spiritual, the
offering of the heart, and not the reading of a form. The justice
declared--'We know the Common Prayer-book hath been ever since the
apostles' time, and is lawful to be used in the church!!' It is
surprising that such a dialogue was ever entered upon; either Keling
was desirous of triumphing over the celebrated tinker, or his
countenance and personal appearance commanded respect. For some
cause he was treated with great liberality for those times; the
extent of it may be seen by one justice asking him, 'Is your God
Beelzebub?' and another declaring that he was possessed with the
devil! 'All which,' says Bunyan, 'I passed over, the Lord forgive
them!' When, however, the justice was worsted in argument, and
acknowledged that he was not well versed in Scripture, he demanded
the prisoner's plea, saying, 'Then you confess the indictment?'
'Now,' says Bunyan, 'and not till now, I saw I was indicted; and
said--"This I confess, we have had many meetings together, both to
pray to God, and to exhort one another; and that we had the sweet
comforting presence of the Lord among us for our encouragement
(blessed be his name!); therefore I confess myself guilty, and
no otherwise."' This was recorded as a plea of guilty, and Keling
resumed his natural ferocity. 'Then,' said he, 'hear your judgment.
You must be had back again to prison, and there lie for three months
following; and then, if you do not submit to go to church to hear
Divine service, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the
realm; and after that, if you shall be found in this realm without
special license from the king, you must stretch by the neck for
it. I tell you plainly'; 'and so he bid my jailer have me away.'
The hero answered--'I am at a point with you: if I were out of
prison to-day, I would preach the gospel again to-morrow, by the
help of God.'[229]