The Life of John Bunyan [34]
So that I find Christ's words more than
bare trifles, where He saith, He will give a mouth and wisdom, even
such as all the adversaries shall not gainsay or resist. And that
His peace no man can take from us."
The magistrates, however, though not unnaturally irritated by what
seemed to them Bunyan's unreasonable obstinacy, were not desirous
to push matters to extremity. The three months named in his
sentence, at the expiration of which he was either to conform or be
banished the realm, were fast drawing to an end, without any sign
of submission on his part. As a last resort Mr. Cobb, the Clerk of
the Peace, was sent to try what calm and friendly reasoning might
effect. Cobb, who evidently knew Bunyan personally, did his best,
as a kind-hearted, sensible man, to bring him to reason. Cobb did
not profess to be "a man that could dispute," and Bunyan had the
better of him in argument. His position, however, was
unassailable. The recent insurrection of Venner and his Fifth
Monarchy men, he said, had shown the danger to the public peace
there was in allowing fanatical gatherings to assemble unchecked.
Bunyan, whose loyalty was unquestioned, must acknowledge the
prudence of suppressing meetings which, however good their
ostensible aim, might issue in nothing less than the ruin of the
kingdom and commonwealth. Bunyan had confessed his readiness to
obey the apostolic precept by submitting himself to the king as
supreme. The king forbade the holding of private meetings, which,
under colour of religion, might be prejudicial to the State. Why
then did he not submit? This need not hinder him from doing good
in a neighbourly way. He might continue to use his gifts and
exhort his neighbours in private discourse, provided he did not
bring people together in public assemblies. The law did not
abridge him of this liberty. Why should he stand so strictly on
public meetings? Or why should he not come to church and hear?
Was his gift so far above that of others that he could learn of no
one? If he could not be persuaded, the judges were resolved to
prosecute the law against him. He would be sent away beyond the
seas to Spain or Constantinople - either Cobb's or Bunyan's
colonial geography was rather at fault here - or some other remote
part of the world, and what good could he do to his friends then?
"Neighbour Bunyan" had better consider these things seriously
before the Quarter Session, and be ruled by good advice. The
gaoler here put in his word in support of Cobb's arguments:
"Indeed, sir, I hope he will be ruled." But all Cobb's friendly
reasonings and expostulations were ineffectual to bend Bunyan's
sturdy will. He would yield to no-one in his loyalty to his
sovereign, and his readiness to obey the law. But, he said, with a
hairsplitting casuistry he would have indignantly condemned in
others, the law provided two ways of obeying, "one to obey
actively, and if his conscience forbad that, then to obey
passively; to lie down and suffer whatever they might do to him."
The Clerk of the Peace saw that it was no use to prolong the
argument any further. "At this," writes Bunyan, "he sat down, and
said no more; which, when he had done, I did thank him for his
civil and meek discoursing with me; and so we parted: O that we
might meet in heaven!"
The Coronation which took place very soon after this interview,
April 13, 1661, afforded a prospect of release without unworthy
submission. The customary proclamation, which allowed prisoners
under sentence for any offence short of felony to sue out a pardon
for twelve months from that date, suspended the execution of the
sentence of banishment and gave a hope that the prison doors might
be opened for him. The local authorities taking no steps to enable
him to profit by the royal clemency, by inserting his name in the
list of pardonable offenders, his second wife, Elizabeth, travelled
up
bare trifles, where He saith, He will give a mouth and wisdom, even
such as all the adversaries shall not gainsay or resist. And that
His peace no man can take from us."
The magistrates, however, though not unnaturally irritated by what
seemed to them Bunyan's unreasonable obstinacy, were not desirous
to push matters to extremity. The three months named in his
sentence, at the expiration of which he was either to conform or be
banished the realm, were fast drawing to an end, without any sign
of submission on his part. As a last resort Mr. Cobb, the Clerk of
the Peace, was sent to try what calm and friendly reasoning might
effect. Cobb, who evidently knew Bunyan personally, did his best,
as a kind-hearted, sensible man, to bring him to reason. Cobb did
not profess to be "a man that could dispute," and Bunyan had the
better of him in argument. His position, however, was
unassailable. The recent insurrection of Venner and his Fifth
Monarchy men, he said, had shown the danger to the public peace
there was in allowing fanatical gatherings to assemble unchecked.
Bunyan, whose loyalty was unquestioned, must acknowledge the
prudence of suppressing meetings which, however good their
ostensible aim, might issue in nothing less than the ruin of the
kingdom and commonwealth. Bunyan had confessed his readiness to
obey the apostolic precept by submitting himself to the king as
supreme. The king forbade the holding of private meetings, which,
under colour of religion, might be prejudicial to the State. Why
then did he not submit? This need not hinder him from doing good
in a neighbourly way. He might continue to use his gifts and
exhort his neighbours in private discourse, provided he did not
bring people together in public assemblies. The law did not
abridge him of this liberty. Why should he stand so strictly on
public meetings? Or why should he not come to church and hear?
Was his gift so far above that of others that he could learn of no
one? If he could not be persuaded, the judges were resolved to
prosecute the law against him. He would be sent away beyond the
seas to Spain or Constantinople - either Cobb's or Bunyan's
colonial geography was rather at fault here - or some other remote
part of the world, and what good could he do to his friends then?
"Neighbour Bunyan" had better consider these things seriously
before the Quarter Session, and be ruled by good advice. The
gaoler here put in his word in support of Cobb's arguments:
"Indeed, sir, I hope he will be ruled." But all Cobb's friendly
reasonings and expostulations were ineffectual to bend Bunyan's
sturdy will. He would yield to no-one in his loyalty to his
sovereign, and his readiness to obey the law. But, he said, with a
hairsplitting casuistry he would have indignantly condemned in
others, the law provided two ways of obeying, "one to obey
actively, and if his conscience forbad that, then to obey
passively; to lie down and suffer whatever they might do to him."
The Clerk of the Peace saw that it was no use to prolong the
argument any further. "At this," writes Bunyan, "he sat down, and
said no more; which, when he had done, I did thank him for his
civil and meek discoursing with me; and so we parted: O that we
might meet in heaven!"
The Coronation which took place very soon after this interview,
April 13, 1661, afforded a prospect of release without unworthy
submission. The customary proclamation, which allowed prisoners
under sentence for any offence short of felony to sue out a pardon
for twelve months from that date, suspended the execution of the
sentence of banishment and gave a hope that the prison doors might
be opened for him. The local authorities taking no steps to enable
him to profit by the royal clemency, by inserting his name in the
list of pardonable offenders, his second wife, Elizabeth, travelled
up