The Life of John Bunyan [38]
of heart, and noblest
ventures of faith. He was content to suffer by the hangman's hand
if thus he might have an opportunity of addressing the crowd that
he thought would come to see him die. "And if it must be so, if
God will but convert one soul by my very last words, I shall not
count my life thrown away or lost." And even when hours of
darkness came over his soul, and he was tempted to question the
reality of his Christian profession, and to doubt whether God would
give him comfort at the hour of death, he stayed himself up with
such bold words as these. "I was bound, but He was free. Yea,
'twas my duty to stand to His word whether He would ever look on me
or no, or save me at the last. If God doth not come in, thought I,
I will leap off the ladder even blindfold into Eternity, sink or
swim, come heaven, come hell. Lord Jesus, if Thou wilt catch me,
do. If not, I will venture for Thy name."
Bunyan being precluded by his imprisonment from carrying on his
brazier's craft for the support of his wife and family, and his
active spirit craving occupation, he got himself taught how to make
"long tagged laces," "many hundred gross" of which, we are told by
one who first formed his acquaintance in prison, he made during his
captivity, for "his own and his family's necessities." "While his
hands were thus busied," writes Lord Macaulay, "he had often
employment for his mind and for his lips." "Though a prisoner he
was a preacher still." As with St. Paul in his Roman chains, "the
word of God was not bound." The prisoners for conscience' sake,
who like him, from time to time, were cooped up in Bedford gaol,
including several of his brother ministers and some of his old
friends among the leading members of his own little church,
furnished a numerous and sympathetic congregation. At one time a
body of some sixty, who had met for worship at night in a
neighbouring wood, were marched off to gaol, with their minister at
their head. But while all about him was in confusion, his spirit
maintained its even calm, and he could at once speak the words of
strength and comfort that were needed. In the midst of the hurry
which so many "newcomers occasioned," writes the friend to whom we
are indebted for the details of his prison life, "I have heard Mr.
Bunyan both preach and pray with that mighty spirit of faith and
plerophory of Divine assistance that has made me stand and wonder."
These sermons addressed to his fellow prisoners supplied, in many
cases, the first outlines of the books which, in rapid succession,
flowed from his pen during the earlier years of his imprisonment,
relieving the otherwise insupportable tedium of his close
confinement. Bunyan himself tells us that this was the case with
regard to his "Holy City," the first idea of which was borne in
upon his mind when addressing "his brethren in the prison chamber,"
nor can we doubt that the case was the same with other works of
his. To these we shall hereafter return. Nor was it his fellow
prisoners only who profited by his counsels. In his "Life and
Death of Mr. Badman," he gives us a story of a woman who came to
him when he was in prison, to confess how she had robbed her
master, and to ask his help. Hers was probably a representative
case. The time spared from his handicraft, and not employed in
religious counsel and exhortation, was given to study and
composition. For this his confinement secured him the leisure
which otherwise he would have looked for in vain. The few books he
possessed he studied indefatigably. His library was, at least at
one period, a very limited one, - "the least and the best library,"
writes a friend who visited him in prison, "that I ever saw,
consisting only of two books - the Bible, and Foxe's 'Book of
Martyrs.'" "But with these two books," writes Mr. Froude, "he had
no cause to complain of intellectual destitution." Bunyan's mode
of composition,
ventures of faith. He was content to suffer by the hangman's hand
if thus he might have an opportunity of addressing the crowd that
he thought would come to see him die. "And if it must be so, if
God will but convert one soul by my very last words, I shall not
count my life thrown away or lost." And even when hours of
darkness came over his soul, and he was tempted to question the
reality of his Christian profession, and to doubt whether God would
give him comfort at the hour of death, he stayed himself up with
such bold words as these. "I was bound, but He was free. Yea,
'twas my duty to stand to His word whether He would ever look on me
or no, or save me at the last. If God doth not come in, thought I,
I will leap off the ladder even blindfold into Eternity, sink or
swim, come heaven, come hell. Lord Jesus, if Thou wilt catch me,
do. If not, I will venture for Thy name."
Bunyan being precluded by his imprisonment from carrying on his
brazier's craft for the support of his wife and family, and his
active spirit craving occupation, he got himself taught how to make
"long tagged laces," "many hundred gross" of which, we are told by
one who first formed his acquaintance in prison, he made during his
captivity, for "his own and his family's necessities." "While his
hands were thus busied," writes Lord Macaulay, "he had often
employment for his mind and for his lips." "Though a prisoner he
was a preacher still." As with St. Paul in his Roman chains, "the
word of God was not bound." The prisoners for conscience' sake,
who like him, from time to time, were cooped up in Bedford gaol,
including several of his brother ministers and some of his old
friends among the leading members of his own little church,
furnished a numerous and sympathetic congregation. At one time a
body of some sixty, who had met for worship at night in a
neighbouring wood, were marched off to gaol, with their minister at
their head. But while all about him was in confusion, his spirit
maintained its even calm, and he could at once speak the words of
strength and comfort that were needed. In the midst of the hurry
which so many "newcomers occasioned," writes the friend to whom we
are indebted for the details of his prison life, "I have heard Mr.
Bunyan both preach and pray with that mighty spirit of faith and
plerophory of Divine assistance that has made me stand and wonder."
These sermons addressed to his fellow prisoners supplied, in many
cases, the first outlines of the books which, in rapid succession,
flowed from his pen during the earlier years of his imprisonment,
relieving the otherwise insupportable tedium of his close
confinement. Bunyan himself tells us that this was the case with
regard to his "Holy City," the first idea of which was borne in
upon his mind when addressing "his brethren in the prison chamber,"
nor can we doubt that the case was the same with other works of
his. To these we shall hereafter return. Nor was it his fellow
prisoners only who profited by his counsels. In his "Life and
Death of Mr. Badman," he gives us a story of a woman who came to
him when he was in prison, to confess how she had robbed her
master, and to ask his help. Hers was probably a representative
case. The time spared from his handicraft, and not employed in
religious counsel and exhortation, was given to study and
composition. For this his confinement secured him the leisure
which otherwise he would have looked for in vain. The few books he
possessed he studied indefatigably. His library was, at least at
one period, a very limited one, - "the least and the best library,"
writes a friend who visited him in prison, "that I ever saw,
consisting only of two books - the Bible, and Foxe's 'Book of
Martyrs.'" "But with these two books," writes Mr. Froude, "he had
no cause to complain of intellectual destitution." Bunyan's mode
of composition,