The Works of John Bunyan, vol 1 by John Bunyan (books to read to improve english .TXT) 📕

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