The Life of John Bunyan [17]
Christ?'" Whether the voice were
supernatural or not, he was not, "in twenty years' time," able to
determine. At the time he thought it was. It was "as if an angel
had come upon me." "It commanded a great calm upon me. It
persuaded me there might be hope." But this persuasion soon
vanished. "In three or four days I began to despair again." He
found it harder than ever to pray. The devil urged that God was
weary of him; had been weary for years past; that he wanted to get
rid of him and his "bawlings in his ears," and therefore He had let
him commit this particular sin that he might be cut off altogether.
For such an one to pray was but to add sin to sin. There was no
hope for him. Christ might indeed pity him and wish to help him;
but He could not, for this sin was unpardonable. He had said "let
Him go if He will," and He had taken him at his word. "Then," he
says, "I was always sinking whatever I did think or do." Years
afterwards he remembered how, "in this time of hopelessness, having
walked one day, to a neighbouring town, wearied out with his
misery, he sat down on a settle in the street to ponder over his
fearful state. As he looked up, everything he saw seemed banded
together for the destruction of so vile a sinner. The "sun grudged
him its light, the very stones in the streets and the tiles on the
house-roofs seemed to bend themselves against him." He burst forth
with a grievous sigh, "How can God comfort such a wretch as I?"
Comfort was nearer than he imagined. "No sooner had I said it, but
this returned to me, as an echo doth answer a voice, 'This sin is
not unto death.'" This breathed fresh life into his soul. He was
"as if he had been raised out of a grave." "It was a release to me
from my former bonds, a shelter from my former storm." But though
the storm was allayed it was by no means over. He had to struggle
hard to maintain his ground. "Oh, how did Satan now lay about him
for to bring me down again. But he could by no means do it, for
this sentence stood like a millpost at my back." But after two
days the old despairing thoughts returned, "nor could his faith
retain the word." A few hours, however, saw the return of his
hopes. As he was on his knees before going to bed, "seeking the
Lord with strong cries," a voice echoed his prayer, "I have loved
Thee with an everlasting love." "Now I went to bed at quiet, and
when I awaked the next morning it was fresh upon my soul and I
believed it."
These voices from heaven - whether real or not he could not tell,
nor did he much care, for they were real to him - were continually
sounding in his ears to help him out of the fresh crises of his
spiritual disorder. At one time "O man, great is thy faith,"
"fastened on his heart as if one had clapped him on the back." At
another, "He is able," spoke suddenly and loudly within his heart;
at another, that "piece of a sentence," "My grace is sufficient,"
darted in upon him "three times together," and he was "as though he
had seen the Lord Jesus look down through the tiles upon him," and
was sent mourning but rejoicing home. But it was still with him
like an April sky. At one time bright sunshine, at another
lowering clouds. The terrible words about Esau "returned on him as
before," and plunged him in darkness, and then again some good
words, "as it seemed writ in great letters," brought back the light
of day. But the sunshine began to last longer than before, and the
clouds were less heavy. The "visage" of the threatening texts was
changed; "they looked not on him so grimly as before;" "that about
Esau's birthright began to wax weak and withdraw and vanish." "Now
remained only the hinder part of the tempest. The thunder was
gone; only a few drops fell on him now and then."
The long-expected deliverance was at hand. As he was walking in
the fields, still with some fears in his heart, the sentence fell
supernatural or not, he was not, "in twenty years' time," able to
determine. At the time he thought it was. It was "as if an angel
had come upon me." "It commanded a great calm upon me. It
persuaded me there might be hope." But this persuasion soon
vanished. "In three or four days I began to despair again." He
found it harder than ever to pray. The devil urged that God was
weary of him; had been weary for years past; that he wanted to get
rid of him and his "bawlings in his ears," and therefore He had let
him commit this particular sin that he might be cut off altogether.
For such an one to pray was but to add sin to sin. There was no
hope for him. Christ might indeed pity him and wish to help him;
but He could not, for this sin was unpardonable. He had said "let
Him go if He will," and He had taken him at his word. "Then," he
says, "I was always sinking whatever I did think or do." Years
afterwards he remembered how, "in this time of hopelessness, having
walked one day, to a neighbouring town, wearied out with his
misery, he sat down on a settle in the street to ponder over his
fearful state. As he looked up, everything he saw seemed banded
together for the destruction of so vile a sinner. The "sun grudged
him its light, the very stones in the streets and the tiles on the
house-roofs seemed to bend themselves against him." He burst forth
with a grievous sigh, "How can God comfort such a wretch as I?"
Comfort was nearer than he imagined. "No sooner had I said it, but
this returned to me, as an echo doth answer a voice, 'This sin is
not unto death.'" This breathed fresh life into his soul. He was
"as if he had been raised out of a grave." "It was a release to me
from my former bonds, a shelter from my former storm." But though
the storm was allayed it was by no means over. He had to struggle
hard to maintain his ground. "Oh, how did Satan now lay about him
for to bring me down again. But he could by no means do it, for
this sentence stood like a millpost at my back." But after two
days the old despairing thoughts returned, "nor could his faith
retain the word." A few hours, however, saw the return of his
hopes. As he was on his knees before going to bed, "seeking the
Lord with strong cries," a voice echoed his prayer, "I have loved
Thee with an everlasting love." "Now I went to bed at quiet, and
when I awaked the next morning it was fresh upon my soul and I
believed it."
These voices from heaven - whether real or not he could not tell,
nor did he much care, for they were real to him - were continually
sounding in his ears to help him out of the fresh crises of his
spiritual disorder. At one time "O man, great is thy faith,"
"fastened on his heart as if one had clapped him on the back." At
another, "He is able," spoke suddenly and loudly within his heart;
at another, that "piece of a sentence," "My grace is sufficient,"
darted in upon him "three times together," and he was "as though he
had seen the Lord Jesus look down through the tiles upon him," and
was sent mourning but rejoicing home. But it was still with him
like an April sky. At one time bright sunshine, at another
lowering clouds. The terrible words about Esau "returned on him as
before," and plunged him in darkness, and then again some good
words, "as it seemed writ in great letters," brought back the light
of day. But the sunshine began to last longer than before, and the
clouds were less heavy. The "visage" of the threatening texts was
changed; "they looked not on him so grimly as before;" "that about
Esau's birthright began to wax weak and withdraw and vanish." "Now
remained only the hinder part of the tempest. The thunder was
gone; only a few drops fell on him now and then."
The long-expected deliverance was at hand. As he was walking in
the fields, still with some fears in his heart, the sentence fell