After a lapse of nearly two centuries, Bunyan's peaceable principles have greatly prevailed; so that now few churches refuse communion on account of the mode, in which water baptism has been administered. The Baptists are no longer deemed heretics as they formerly were. Dr. Watts aided this kindly feeling—'A church baptized in infancy, or in adult age, may allow communion to those that are of the contrary practice in baptism.'[293] Robert Robinson praises Bunyan's work, and advocates his sentiments upon the most liberal principles. One of his remarks is very striking:—'Happy community! that can produce a dispute of one hundred and fifty years unstained with the blood, and unsullied with the fines, the imprisonments, and the civil inconveniences of the disputants. As to a few coarse names, rough compliments, foreign suppositions, and acrimonious exclamations, they are only the harmless squeakings of men in a passion, caught and pinched in a sort of logical trap.'[294] To this time, Bunyan was only known as an extraordinarily talented and eloquent man, whose retentive memory was most richly stored with the sacred Scriptures. All his sermons and writings were drawn from his own mental resources, aided, while in prison, only by the Bible, the Concordance, and Fox's Book of Martyrs. Very emphatically he says, 'I am for drinking water out of my own cistern.' 'I find such a spirit of idolatry in the learning of this world, that had I it at command I durst not use it, but only use the light of the Word and Spirit of God.' 'I will not take of it from a thread even to a shoe latchet.'[295] It must not be understood that he read no other works but his Bible and Book of Martyrs, but that he only used those in composing his various treatises while in confinement. He certainly had and read The Plain Man's Pathway, Practice of Piety, Luther on the Galatians, Clarke's Looking-glass for Saints and Sinners, Dodd on the Commandments, Andrews' Sermons, Fowler's Design of Christianity, D'Anvers and Paul on Baptism, and doubtless all the books which were within his reach, calculated to increase his store of knowledge.
About this time he published a small quarto tract, in which he scripturally treats the doctrine of eternal election and reprobation. This rare book, published for sixpence, we were glad to purchase at a cost of one guinea and a half, because a modern author rejected its authenticity! It is included in every early list of Bunyan's works, and especially in that published by himself, in 1688, to guard his friends from deception; for he had become so popular an author that several forgeries had been published under his initials. These few pages on election contain a scriptural treatise upon a very solemn subject, written by one whose mind was so imbued by the fear of God, as to have cast out the fear of man; which so generally embarrasses writers upon this subject. It was translated into Welsh, and is worthy an attentive perusal, especially by those who cannot see the difference between God's foreknowledge and his foreordination.
A new era was now dawning upon him, which, during the last ten years of his life, added tenfold to his popularity. For many years his beautifully simple, but splendid allegory, The Pilgrim's Progress, lay slumbering in his drawer.[296] Numerous had been his consultations with his pious associates and friends, and various had been their opinions, whether it was serious enough to be published. All of them had a solemn sense of the impropriety of anything like trifling as to the way of escape from destruction, and the road to the celestial city. It appears strange to us, who have witnessed the very solemn impressions, in all cases, made by reading that book, that there could have been a doubt of the propriety of treating in a colloquial manner, and even under the fashion of a dream, those most important truths. Some said, 'John, print it'; others said, 'not so.' Some said, 'it might do good'; others said, 'no.' The result of all those consultations was his determination, 'I print it will,' and it has raised an imperishable monument to his memory. Up to this time, all Bunyan's popularity arose from his earlier works, and his sermons. Leaving out of the question those most extraordinary books, The Pilgrim's Progress and Holy War, his other writings ought to have handed down his name, with honour and popularity, to the latest posterity. While the logical and ponderous works of Baxter and Owen are well calculated to furnish instruction to those who are determined to obtain knowledge, the works of Bunyan create that very determination, and furnish that very knowledge, so blended with amusement, as to fix it in the memory. Let one illustration suffice. It is our duty to love our enemies, but it is a hard lesson; we must learn it from the conduct of the Divine Creator—'There is a man hates God, blasphemes his name, despises his being; yea, says there is no God. And yet the God that he carrieth it thus towards doth give me his breakfast, dinner, and supper; clothes him well, and, when night comes, has him to bed, gives him good rest, blesses his field, his corn, his cattle, his children, and raises him to high estate; yea, and this our God doth not only once or twice, but until these transgressors become old; his patience is thus extended years after years, that we might learn of him to do well.'[297] All the works of Bunyan abound with such striking lessons, as to render them extremely valuable, especially to Sunday-school teachers and ministers, to enliven their addresses and sermons. But, in The Pilgrim's Progress, the world has acknowledged one train of beauties; picture after picture, most beautifully finished, exhibiting the road from destruction to the celestial city; our only difficulty in such a display being to decide as to which is the most interesting and striking piece of scenery.[298] The editor's introduction to that extraordinary book is intended to prove that it was written while the author was imprisoned for refusing to submit his conscience to human laws, and that it is a perpetual monument to the folly of persecution; the peculiar qualifications of the author are displayed in its having been a spontaneous effusion of his own mind, unaided by any previous writer; an analysis is given of all prior pilgrimages, in which, more especially in The Pilgrims, The Pylgremage of the Soule, Grande Amoure, and in The Pilgrim of Loretto, the reader will find a faithful picture of some of the singularities of Popery drawn by itself; an account of the editions, forgeries, errors in printing, versions and translations of this wonderful book; the opinions of the learned and pious of its merits, principal scenes, and a synopsis. It has been the source of very numerous courses of lectures by ministers of all denominations; and has been turned into a handsome volume of hymns, adapted for public worship, by the late Mr. Purday, a friend of John Wesley's, and a laborious preacher for more than half a century.
Great efforts have been made by the most popular artists to enliven the scenes of the pilgrimage; but no colour glows like the enchanting words of Bunyan. No figures are so true to nature, and so life-like. Those eminent engravers, Sturt and Strut, Stothard and Martin, with the prize efforts excited by the Art Union of England, and the curious outlines by Mrs. M'Kenzie, the daughter of a British admiral, have endeavoured to exhaust the scenes in this inexhaustible work of beautiful scenery. The most elegant and correct edition is the large-paper, sumptuous volume by Mr. Bogue, admirably illustrated with new designs, engraved on wood in superior style—a volume worthy the drawing-room of queens and emperors. The designs, also, of the late David Scott, recently published at Edinburgh, are new, and peculiarly striking. His entrance to the Valley of the Shadow of Death is mysteriously impressive, a fit accompaniment to Bunyan's description, which is not excelled by any thing in Dante, Spencer, or Milton. In both parts of The Pilgrim's Progress this scene is full of terrific sublimity. But we must be excused, if we most warmly recommend our own offspring—the present edition—as combining accuracy, elegance, and cheapness, with the addition of very numerous notes, which, we trust, will prove highly illustrative and entertaining.
The carping criticisms of Mr. Dunlop, in his History of Fiction, and of an author in the Penny Encyclopedia, are scarcely worth notice. The complaint is, want of benevolence in the hero of the tale. How singular it is, and what a testimony to its excellence, that an intelligent writer upon fictions should have been so overpowered with this spiritual narrative, as to confound it with temporal things. Christian leaves his wife and children, instead of staying with them, to be involved in destruction—all this relates to inward spiritual feelings, and to these only. Visited by compunctions of heart, Christian strives to inspire his wife and children with the same, but in vain; he attends solitarily to his spiritual state, taunted by his family, while, as to temporal things, he becomes a better husband and father than ever he was—but this is not prominent, because it is entirely foreign to the author's object, which is to display the inward emotions of the new birth, the spiritual journey alone, apart from all temporal affairs. Multitudes read it as if it was really a dream, the old sleeping portrait confirming the idea. In the story, Christian most mysteriously embodies all classes of men, from the prince to the peasant—the wealthiest noble, or merchant, to the humbles mechanic or labourer—and it illustrates the most solemn, certain truth, that, with respect to the salvation of the soul, the poorest creature in existence is upon perfect equality with the lordly prelate, or magnificent emperor, with this word ringing in their ears, 'the POOR have the gospel preached to them.' The Grace Abounding, or Life of Bunyan, is a key to all the mysteries of The Pilgrim's Progress, and Holy War.
Bunyan's singular powers are those of description, not of invention. He had lived in the city of destruction—he had heard the distant threatening of the awful storm that was shortly to swallow it up in unutterable ruin—he had felt the load of sin, and rejoiced when it was rolled away before a crucified Saviour—he knew every step of the way, and before he had himself passed the black river, he had watched prayerfully over those who were passing, and when the gate of the city was opened to let them enter, he had strained his eyes to see their glory.
The purifying influence of The Pilgrim's Progress may be traced in the writings of many imaginative authors. How does it in several parts beautify the admirable tale of Uncle Tom, and his Cabin. In that inimitable scene, the death of the lovely Eva, the distressed negro, watching with intense anxiety the progress of death, says, 'When that blessed child goes into the kingdom, they'll open the door so wide, we'll all get a look in at the glory.' Whence came this strange idea—not limited to the poor negro, but felt by thousands who have watched over departing saints? It comes from the entrance of Christian and Hopeful into the celestial city—'I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun; the streets, also, were paved with gold, and in them they walked with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises, which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.'[299] How often has Bunyan's wit sparkled in sermons, and even in speeches delivered in the senate. Recently, in a speech on the collation ministry, the following reference was introduced:—'Mr. Facing-both-ways, of honest John Bunyan, is not a creature mankind can regard with any complacency; nor will they likely suffer any one to act with one party, and reserve his principles for another.' It has also been strangely quoted in novel writing—thus in Bell's Villette—visiting a God-mother in a pleasant retreat, is said 'to resemble the sojourn of Christian and Hopeful, beside the pleasant stream, with green trees on each bank, and meadows beautified with lilies all the year round.' It is marvelous that a picture of nature should have been so beautifully and strikingly described by an unlettered artisan, as to be used in embellishing an elegant novel, written nearly two centuries after his decease.[300]
The Pilgrim was followed by a searching treatise on The Fear of God. The value of this book led to its republication by the Tract Society, and 4000 copies have been circulated. It is a neat and acceptable volume, but why altered? and a psalm omitted.[301] Bunyan says, 'Your great ranting, swaggering, roysters'; this is modernized into 'Your ranting boasters.'[302] Then followed, the Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ. This was frequently reprinted, and hundreds of thousands have been circulated to benefit the world. His popularity increased with his years; efforts were made, but in vain, to steal him from his beloved charge at Bedford. 'He hath refused a more plentiful income to keep his station,' is the language of his surviving friend, Charles Doe. It is not surprising that he was thus tempted to leave his poor country church, for we are told by the same biographer, that 'When Mr. Bunyan preached in London, if there were but one day's notice given, there would be more people come together to hear him preach, than the meeting-house could hold. I have seen to hear him preach, by my computation, about 1200 at a morning lecture, by seven o'clock, on a working day, in the dark winter time. I also computed about 3000 that came to hear him one Lord's-day, at London, at a town's end meeting-house, so that half were fain to go back again for want of room, and then himself was fain at a back door to be pulled almost over people to get up stairs to his pulpit.' This took place in a large meeting-house, erected in Zoar Street, either on the site or near the Globe Theatre, Southwark.[303] On this spot, the prince of dramatists amused and corrupted crowded houses; while in the immediate vicinity were the stews and bear garden, frequented by libertines of the lowest caste. One Sunday, in 1582, many were killed or miserably wounded while attending the brutal sport of bear-baiting. Here, in the heart of Satan's empire, the prince of allegorists attracted multitudes, to be enlightened by his natural eloquence, and to be benefited by the fruits of his prolific and vivid imagination, at all times curbed and directed by the holy oracles. It was a spacious building, covering about 2000 feet of ground (50 by 40), with three galleries, quite capable of holding the number computed by Mr. Doe. We have, from correct drawings, furnished our subscribers with the plan and elevation of this ancient meeting-house. Having preached with peculiar warmth and enlargement, one of his friends took him by the hand, and could not help observing what a sweet sermon he had delivered; 'Ay,' said he, 'you need not remind me of that, for the devil told me of it before I was out of the pulpit!'[304] Amongst his hearers were to be found the learned and the illiterate. It was well known that Dr. John Owen, when he had the opportunity, embraced it with pleasure, and sat at the feet of the unlearned, but eloquent tinker. Charles II, hearing of it, asked the learned D.D., 'How a man of his great erudition could sit to hear a tinker preach?' to which the doctor replied, 'May it please your Majesty, if I could possess the tinker's abilities, I would gladly give in exchange all my learning.'
He now pictured the downward road of the sinner to the realms of death and darkness in the Life of Badman. This was published in 1680, and is written in a language which fraudulent tradesmen at that period could not misunderstand; using terms now obsolete or vulgar. It is full of anecdotes, which reveal the state of the times, as superlatively immoral, and profane. He incidentally notices that a labourer received eightpence or tenpence per day.[305] At that time, bread and all the necessaries of life, excepting meat, were dearer than they are at present. In fact, our days are much happier for the poor than any preceding ones in British history. Bunyan's notions of conscientious dealing, will make all traders who read them—blush.[306]
November 12, 1681, Bunyan's friend and fellow-labourer Samuel Fenn, was removed from this world, and in the following year persecution raged severely. The church was, for a season, driven from the meeting-house, and obliged to assemble in the fields. The Word of the Lord was precious in those days.