men, with their slings and battering-rams-clarions | fered was the occasional spoiling of his goods.* and shouts-wounded and slain, all appear as in Neither violence nor allurements induced him to a panorama. The mind becomes entranced, and deviate from his line of duty. No fear of man when sober reflection regains her command, we appeared to agitate his breast-he richly enjoyed naturally inquire, Can all this have taken place that 'perfect love,' which 'casteth out fear' (1 Johr in my heart? Then the armies of Diabolus, with iv. 18.) James did all that an unprincipled man his thousands of Election Doubters, and as many could do to cajole the Dissenters, that by their Vocation Doubters, and his troops of Blood-men- aid he might pull down the walls of Protesthousands slain, and yet thousands start into exist- tantism, and give full sway to the Papacy. He ence. And all this in one man! How number- attempted, among many others, to bribe John less are our thoughts-how crafty the approaches Bunyan. He knew not how well he was read in of the enemy-how hopeless and helpless is the the Book of Martyrs; how we he was aware that sinner, unless Immanuel undertakes his recovery. the instruments of cruelty are in their habitaThe Holy War is a most surprising narrative of the tions,' and that the only advantage he could have fall and of the recovery of man's soul, as accurate received, would have been the same that Polypheme, as it is most deeply interesting. It is one of the the monstrous giant of Sicily, allowed to Ulysses, most perfect of allegories. There is as vast a supe- that he would eat his men first, and do him the riority in Bunyan's Holy War over that by Chrysos- favour of being eaten last. Mr. Doo states that tom, as there is in the sun over a rush-light. 'Regulators were sent into all cities and towns corporate to new-model the magistracy, by turning 15 yan expressed his zeal with great anxiety, as fore- 8 6 and In 1684, he completed his Pilgrim's Progress, with the Journey of a Female Christian, her Chil-out some, and putting in others. Against this Bundren, and the Lovely Mercy; and now, as his invaluable and active life drew towards its close, his labours were redoubled. In his younger days, there appeared to have been no presentiment on his part that the longest term of human life would with him be shortened, but rather an expectation of living to old age, judging from an expression in his Grace Abounding. When he enjoyed a good hope, and bright anticipation of heavenly felicity, 'I should often long and desire that the last days were come. O! thought I, that I were fourscore years old now, that I might die quickly and be gone to rest.' 2 At that time he did not anticipate twelve years' imprisonment in a wretched jail, nor the consequent effects it must have upon his robust frame, well calculated to stand all weathers, but easily sapped and undermined by a damp dungeon. Symptoms of decay, after having enjoyed his liberty for about a year, led him to close his Affectionate Advice to his Beloved Flock, on their Christian Behaviour; with these words, Thus have I written to you, before I die, to provoke you to faith and holiness, and to love one another, when I am deceased, and shall be in paradise, as through grace I comfortably believe; yet it is not there, but here, I must do you good.'3 It is remarkable that Bunyan escaped all the dangers of the trying reign of James II., who, at times, was a persecutor, and at times endeavoured, in vain, by blandishments, to win the Nonconformists. His minions had their eyes upon our pilgrim, but were foiled in every attempt to apprehend him; all that he suf1 A beautiful satire is contained in the account of the traitors-tradition, human wisdom, and man's invention. This picture is drawn by an inimitable artist. Nor have we seen anything more admirably adapted to the present state of our Tractarian times. Vol. iii. 277. 3 Vol. ii., p. 574. 2 Vol. i., p. 22, No. 128. This godly jealousy led him to sacrifice worldly interests to an extent not justifiable, if all the facts appear. When told that a very worthy citizen of London would take his son Joseph apprentice without fee, and advance his interests, he refused, saying, 'God did not send me to advance my family, but to preach the gospel.' At this time he again manifested his lion heart, by writing and preparing for the press a fearless treatise on Antichrist, and his Ruin. In this he shows, that human interference with Divine worship, by penal laws or constraint, is Antichrist' that which pretends to regulate thought, and thus to reduce the kingdom of Christ to a level with the governments of this world. In this treatise, he clearly exhibits the meaning of that passage, 4 Life, 1692. Grace Abounding (continued), vol. i., p. 63, and Life, 1692. • Vol. i., p. 505. 7 Vol. i., p. 719. é Vol. i., p. 753. зва Визуал so constantly quoted by the advocates of tyranny | Second of Eugland, &c., in the year of our lord and saviour, and persecution (Ezra vii. 26), and shows that the Jesus Christ, 1685. laws interfered not with Divine worship, but that they upheld to the fullest extent the principle of voluntary obedience (ver. 18); so that any man putting constraint upon another in religious affairs, would be guilty of breaking the law, and subject him to extreme punishment. This was one of the last treatises which Bunyan prepared for the press, as if in his dying moments he would aim a deadly thrust at Apollyon. Reader, it is worthy your most careful perusal, as showing the certain downfall of Antichrist, and the means by which it must be accomplished. Feeling the extreme uncertainty of life, and that he might be robbed of all his worldly goods, under a pretence of fines and penalties, he, on the 23d of December, 1685, executed a deed of gift, vesting what little he possessed in his wife. It is a singular instrument, especially as having been sealed with a silver twopenny piece. The original is in the church book, at Bedford: "To all people to whom this present writing shall com, J. Bunyan of the parish of St. Cuthbirt's, in the towne of Bedford, in the coun of Bedford, Brazier send greeting. Know ye, that I the said John Bunyan as well for, and in conside ration of the natural affection and loue which I have, and bear vnto my welbeloued wife, Elizabeth Bunyan, as also for divers other good causes and considerations, me at this present esspecially moueing, have given and granted, and by these presents, do give, grant, and conferm vnto the said Elizabeth Bunyan, my said wife, all and singuler my goods, chattels, debts, ready mony, plate, rings, household stuffe, aparrel, vtensills, brass, peuter, beding, and all other my substance, whatsoever moueable and immoueable, of what kinde, nature, quality, or condition soever the same are or be, and in what place or places soever the same be, shall or may be found as well in mine own custodes, possession, as in the possession, hands, power, and custody of any other person, or persons whatsoever. To have and to hold all and singuler the said goods, chattels, debts, and all other, the aforesaid premises vnto the said Elizabeth, my wife, her executors, administerators, and assigns to her and their proper vses and behoofs, freely and quietly without any matter of challinge, claime, or demand of me the said John Bunyan, or of any other person, or persons, whatsoever for me in my name, by my means cavs or procurement, and without any mony or other thing, therefore to be yeeilded, paid or done vnto me the said John Bunyan, my executors, administrators or assigns. And I, the said John Bunyan, all and singular, the aforesaid goods, chattels, and premises to the said Elizabeth my wife, her executors, administrators, and assignes to the vse aforesaid, against all people do warrant and forever defend by these presents. And further, know ye, that I the said John Bunyan have put the said Elizabeth, my wife, in peacable and quiet possession of all and singuler the aforesaid premises, by the delivrye vnto her at the ensealing hereof one coyned peece of silver, commonly called two pence, fixed on the seal of these presents.1 In wittnes wherof, I the said John Bunyan have herevnto set my hand and seall this 23d day of December, in the first year of the reigne of our soueraigne lord, King James the 1 Some of the wax remains, but the coin is lost. Sealed and delivered in the presence of vs, whos names are here vnder written : It JOHN BARDOLPH. WILLM. HAWKES. in business as a brazier, and it is very probable Christian world, was a very important one relative Messiah, and whether our Lord altered or annulled the whole or any part of that law. This question involves the observance of the seventh-day Sabbath. An awful curse is denounced upon those who do not continue in ALL things which are written in the book of the law to do them (Gal. iii. 10; Deut. xxvii. 26). When an innovation upon the almost universal practice of infant baptism had become an object of inquiry only to be answered from the New Testament, it is not surprising that the serious question, why God's Sabbath-day had been altered, should also be agitated with deep feeling. Generally, those who advocated the restoration of the Jewish Sabbath were decidedly of opinion that believers only were fit subjects for baptism, and that the scriptural mode of administering it was by immersion; hence they were called Seventh-day Baptists-Sabbatarians, or Sabbath-keepers. Bunyan entered with very proper and temperate zeal into this controversy. Popular feeling had no influence over him; nor could he submit to the opinions of the ancient fathers. His storehouse of knowledge was limited to the revealed will of God, and there he found ample material to guide his opinion. His work upon this subject is called, Questions about the Nature and Perpetuity of the Seventh-day Sabbath; and proof that the First Day of the Week is the Christian Sabbath. It is one of the smallest of his volumes, but so weighty in argument as never to have been answered. We now arrive at the last year of his eventful and busy life, during which he published six important volumes, and left twelve others in manuscript, prepared for publication. A list of these will be found in The Struggler; they are upon the most im2 Vol. iii., p. 763. 1 portant subjects, which are very admirably treated. The time was drawing near when, in the midst We notice among these, The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, of his usefulness, and with little warning, he was or Good News for the Vilest of Men. It is a spe- to be summoned to his eternal rest. He had been cimen of preaching calculated to excite the deepest seriously attacked with that dangerous pestilence interest, and afford the strongest consolation to a which, in former years, ravaged this country, called soul oppressed with the sense of sin. Great sin- the sweating sickness, a malady as mysterious and ner! thou art called to mercy by name. Arise! fatal as the cholera has been in later times. The shoulder thy way into court through any crowd, disease was attended by great prostration of say, Stand away, devil; stand away all discou- strength; but, under the careful management of ragements; my Saviour calls me to receive mercy.' his affectionate wife, his health became sufficiently In this treatise, Bunyan has repeated from memory restored to enable him to undertake a work of what he had read in some book when in prison, mercy; from the fulfilment of which, as a blessed four and twenty years before. It is a curious close to his incessant earthly labour, he was to legend, which he doubtless believed to be true, and ascend to his Father and his God to be crowned it displays his most retentive memory. His poetry, with immortality. A father had been seriously like his prose, was not written to gain a name, offended with his son, and had threatened to disinbut to make a deep impression. One of his pro- herit him. To prevent the double mischief of a fessed admirers made a strange mistake when he father dying in anger with his child, and the evil called them doggerel rhymes." His Caution to consequence to the child of his being cut off from Watch Against Sin is full of solemn and impressive his patrimony, Bunyan again ventured, in his weak thoughts, the very reverse of doggerel or bur-state, on his accustomed work, to win the blesslesque. His poem on the house of God is worthy ings of the peace-maker. He made a journey on of a most careful perusal; and thousands have horseback to Reading, it being the only mode of been delighted and improved with his emblems. travelling at that time, and he was rewarded with One rhyme in the Pilgrim can never be forgotten success. Returning home by way of London to impart the gratifying intelligence, he was overtaken by excessive rains, and, in an exhausted state, he found a kindly refuge in the house of his Christian friend Mr. Strudwick, and was there seized with a fatal fever. His much-loved wife, who had so powerfully pleaded for his liberty with the judges, and to whom he had been united thirty years, was at a great distance from him. Bedford was then two days' journey from London. Probably at first, his friends had hopes of his speedy recovery; but when the stroke came, all his feelings, and those of his friends, appear to have been absorbed, by the anticipated blessings of immortality, to such an extent, that no record is left as to whether his wife, or any of his children, saw him cross the river of death. There is abundant testimony of his faith and patience, and that the presence of God was eminently with him. 'He that is down need fear no fall; He that is low no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide,' &c. The careful perusal of every one of his treatises, has excited in my mind a much livelier interest than any other religious works which, in a long life, have come under my notice. In fact, the works of Bunyan to a country minister may be compared to a vast storehouse, most amply replenished with all those solemn subjects which call for his prayerful investigation; well arranged, ready of access, striking in their simplicity, full of vivid ideas conveyed in language that a novice may understand. They are all so admirably composed that pious persons, whether in houses of convocation or of parliament, or the inmates of a workhouse, may equally listen to them with increasing delight and instruction. No man ever more richly enjoyed the magnificent language of Job. called it that blessed book."3 The deep interest that he took in its scenery may be traced through all his writings. His spirit, with its mighty powers, grasped the wondrous truths so splendidly pourtrayed in that most ancient book. The inspired writings, which so eminently give wisdom to the simple, expanded his mind, while his mental powers were strengthened and invigorated by his so deeply drinking into the spirit of the inspired volume. He He bore his trying sufferings with all the patience and fortitude that might be expected from such a man. His resignation was most exemplary; his only expressions were a desire to depart, to be dissolved, to be with Christ.' His sufferings were short, being limited to ten days. He enjoyed a holy frame of mind, desiring his friends to pray with him, and uniting fervently with them in the exercise. His last words, while struggling with death, were, Weep not for me, but for yourselves. I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will, no doubt, through the mediation of his blessed Son, receive me, though a sinner; where I hope we ere long shall meet, to sing the new song, and remain everlastingly happy, world without end. Amen,' k A SHORT ELEGY IN MEMORY OF MR. JOHN BUNYAN. The pilgrim travelling the world's vast stage, He felt the ground solid under his feet in passing at Bedford. One of these, written by a dear the black river which has no bridge, and followed friend of his,' is a fair sample of the whole: his pilgrim into the celestial city in August, 1688, in the sixtieth year of his age. There is some uncertainty as to the day of his decease: Charles Doe, in the Struggler, 1692, has August 31, and this has been copied in all his portraits. In the life appended to the Grace Abounding, 1692, his death-day is stated as August 12; and in the memoir appended to the third part of the Pilgrim, also in 1692, the date is August 17. The circumstances of his peaceful decease are well compared by Dr. Cheever to the experience of Mr. Standfast, when he was called to pass the river: the great calm-the firm footing-the address to by-standers-until his countenance changed, his strong man bowed under him, and his last words were, Take me, for I come to thee.' Then the joy among the angels while they welcomed the hero of such spiritual fights, and conducted his wandering soul to the New Jerusalem, which he had so beautifully described as the holy city;' and then his wonder and amazement to find how infinitely short his description came to the blissful reality. The deep affliction that his church was plunged into led to several special meetings. Wednesday, the 4th of September, was kept in prayer and humiliation for this heavy stroke upon us -the death of dear brother Bunyan; it was appointed also, that Wednesday next be kept in prayer and humiliation on the same account. At the meeting held on the 11th, it was appointed that all the brethren meet together on the 18th of this month, September, to humble themselves for this heavy hand of God upon us, and also to pray unto the Lord for counsel and direction what to do, in order to seek out for a fit person to make choice of for an elder. On the 18th, when the whole congregation met to humble themselves before God, by fasting and prayer, for his heavy and severe stroke upon us in taking away our honoured brother Bunyan by death, it was agreed by the whole congregation that care be taken to seek out for one suitably qualified to be chosen an elder among us, and that care was committed by the whole to the brethren at Bedford.' Thus did the church manifest that they had improved in wisdom under his ministry by flying, in their extreme distress, to the only source of consolation. The saddest feelings of sorrow extended to every place where he had been known. His friend, the Rev. G. Cockayn, of London, says, it pleased the Lord to remove him, to the great loss and inexpressible grief of many precious souls.' Numerous elegies, acrostics, and poems were published on the occasion of his decease, lamenting the loss thus sustained by his country-by the church at large, and particularly by the church and congregation Weep not for him, who has no cause of tears; 'He in the pulpit preached truth first, and then He in his practice preached it o'er again.' His remains were interred in Bunhill Fields, in the vault of his friend Mr. Strudwick, at whose house he died. His tomb has been visited by thousands of pilgrims, blessing God for his goodness in raising up such a man, so signally fitted to be a blessing to the times in which he lived. All the accounts of his decease, published at the time, agree as to his place of burial. The words of Mr. Doe, who probably attended the funeral, are, he was buried in the new burying-place, near the artillery ground, where he sleeps to the morning of the resurrection.'2 His Life and Actions, 1692, records that his funeral was performed with much decency, and he was buried in the new burying-ground by Moorfields.' The Struggler calls it Finsbury burying-ground, where many London Dissenting ministers are laid. "3 Bunhill Fields burying-ground for Dissenters was first opened in 1666. The inscription upon the tomb to his memory was engraven many years after his funeral. It is not contained in the list of inscriptions published in 1717. His widow survived him four years. He had six children by his first wife, three of whom survived him— Thomas, Joseph, and Sarah. His son Thomas joined his church in 1673, and was a preacher in 1692. He appears to have been usefully employed in visiting absent members until December 1718. My kind friend, the Rev. J. P. Lockwood, rector of South Hackney, recently discovered entries in 1 Vol. iii., p. 766. 2 Grace Abounding, 1692 3 No. 25, E.; 26, W.; 26, N.; 27, S. James Dix, Esq., of Bristol, who met with them immediately after the sale, on one of his journeys at Nottingham. They are not worshipped as relics, nor have they performed miracles, but as curiosities of a past age they are worthy of high consideration. Everything that was used by him, and that survives the ravages of time, possesses a peculiar charm; even the chair in which he sat is preserved in the vestry of the new chapel, and is shown to those who make the pilgrimage to the shrine of Bunyan.2 the register of Kimbolton, in Huntingdonshire, pro- | with the late Mr. Robinson's effects, January, bably of the descendants of this son, Thomas. No- 1853, and secured for me by my excellent friend vember 26, 1698, John Bonion and Mary Rogers, married: she was buried, September 7, 1706; and he again married Anne, and buried her in 1712, leaving a son and two daughters. His death is not recorded. One of the descendants, Hannah Bunyan, died in 1770, aged seventy-six years, and lies in the burial-ground by the meeting-house at Bedford. John Bunyan's son, Joseph, settled at Nottingham, and marrying a wealthy woman, conformed to the Church. A lineal descendant of his was living, in 1847, at Islington, near London, aged eighty-four, Mrs. Senegar, a fine hearty old lady, and a Strict Baptist. She said to me, 'Sir, excuse the vanity of an old woman, but I will show you how I sometimes spend a very pleasant half-hour.' She took down a portrait on canvas of her great forefather, and propped it up on the table with a writing-desk, with a looking-glass by its side. There, Sir, I look at the portrait, and then at myself, and can trace every feature; we resemble each other like two pins.' 'Excepting the imperial and moustachios,' I replied; to which she readily assented. It was the fact that there was a striking family likeness between the picture and her reflection in the looking-glass. Another descen dant, from the same branch of the family, is now living at Lincoln. He was born in 1775, and possessed a quarto Bible, published by Barker and Bill in 1641, given by John Bunyan to his son Joseph. This was preserved in his family until the present year, when it came into the editor's possession, with the following relics, which were, and I trust will yet be preserved with the greatest care:-An iron pencase, made by Bunyan the brazier, with some stumps of old pens, with which it is said he wrote some of his sermons and books; the buckles worn by him, and his two pocket-knives, one of them made before springs were invented, and which is kept open by turning a ferrule; his apple-scoop, curiously carved, and a seal; his pocket-box of scales and weights for money, being stamped with the figures on each side of the coins of James and Charles I.1 These were given by Robert Bunyan, in 1839, then sixty-four years of age, to a younger branch of the family, Mr. Charles Robinson, of Wilford, near Nottingham (his sister's son), for safe custody. He died in 1852; while his aged uncle remains in good health, subject to the infirmities of his seventy-eighth year. On many of the blank spaces in the Bible are the registers of births and deaths in the family, evidently written at the time. Those relics are deposited in a carved oak box. They were sold 1 As matters of curious interest to all lovers of Bunyan, we insert, in the accompanying page, engravings of these relics, from drawings by Mr. Edward Offor. The personal appearance and character of our pilgrim's guide, drawn by his friend Charles Doe, 2 The chair is engraved above, and it will be seen that it has suffered some little dilapidation since the last published engraving of it. The legs have been cut down to suit the height of one of his successors in the ministry!! With regard to the pulpit, an old resident in Bedford says-The celebrated John Howard presented a new pulpit in the room of the old one, which was cut up. Of part of the wood a table was made, which now belongs to Mrs. Hillyerd. |