The Life of John Bunyan [53]
account,
however, probably points to another building, as the Zoar Street
meeting-house was not opened for worship till about six months
before Bunyan's death, and then for Presbyterian service. Other
places in London connected with his preaching are Pinners' Hall in
Old Broad Street, where, on one of his occasional visits, he
delivered his striking sermon on "The Greatness of the Soul and the
Unspeakableness of the Loss thereof," first published in 1683; and
Dr. Owen's meeting-house in White's Alley, Moorfields, which was
the gathering-place for titled folk, city merchants, and other
Nonconformists of position and degree. At earlier times, when the
penal laws against Nonconformists were in vigorous exercise, Bunyan
had to hold his meetings by stealth in private houses and other
places where he might hope to escape the lynx-eyed informer. It
was at one of these furtive meetings that his earliest biographer,
the honest combmaker at the foot of London Bridge, Charles Doe,
first heard him preach. His choice of an Old Testament text at
first offended Doe, who had lately come into New Testament light
and had had enough of the "historical and doing-for-favour of the
Old Testament." But as he went on he preached "so New Testament
like" that his hearer's prejudices vanished, and he could only
"admire, weep for joy, and give the preacher his affections."
Bunyan was more than once urged to leave Bedford and settle in the
metropolis. But to all these solicitations he turned a deaf ear.
Bedford was the home of his deepest affections. It was there the
holy words of the poor women "sitting in the sun," speaking "as if
joy did make them speak," had first "made his heart shake," and
shown him that he was still a stranger to vital godliness. It was
there he had been brought out of darkness into light himself, and
there too he had been the means of imparting the same blessing to
others. The very fact of his long imprisonment had identified him
with the town and its inhabitants. There he had a large and loving
congregation, to whom he was bound by the ties of a common faith
and common sufferings. Many of these recognized in Bunyan their
spiritual father; all, save a few "of the baser sort," reverenced
him as their teacher and guide. No prospect of a wider field of
usefulness, still less of a larger income, could tempt him to
desert his "few sheep in the wilderness." Some of them, it is
true, were wayward sheep, who wounded the heart of their pastor by
breaking from the fold, and displaying very un-lamb-like behaviour.
He had sometimes to realize painfully that no pale is so close but
that the enemy will creep in somewhere and seduce the flock; and
that no rules of communion, however strict, can effectually exclude
unworthy members. Brother John Stanton had to be admonished "for
abusing his wife and beating her often for very light matters" (if
the matters had been less light, would the beating in these days
have been thought justifiable?); and Sister Mary Foskett, for
"privately whispering of a horrid scandal, 'without culler of
truth,' against Brother Honeylove." Evil-speaking and backbiting
set brother against brother. Dissensions and heartburnings grieved
Bunyan's spirit. He himself was not always spared. A letter had
to be written to Sister Hawthorn "by way of reproof for her
unseemly language against Brother Scot and the whole Church." John
Wildman was had up before the Church and convicted of being "an
abominable liar and slanderer," "extraordinary guilty" against "our
beloved Brother Bunyan himself." And though Sister Hawthorn
satisfied the Church by "humble acknowledgment of her miscariag,"
the bolder misdoer only made matters worse by "a frothy letter,"
which left no alternative but a sentence of expulsion. But though
Bunyan's flock contained some whose fleeces were not as white as he
desired, these were the exception. The congregation
however, probably points to another building, as the Zoar Street
meeting-house was not opened for worship till about six months
before Bunyan's death, and then for Presbyterian service. Other
places in London connected with his preaching are Pinners' Hall in
Old Broad Street, where, on one of his occasional visits, he
delivered his striking sermon on "The Greatness of the Soul and the
Unspeakableness of the Loss thereof," first published in 1683; and
Dr. Owen's meeting-house in White's Alley, Moorfields, which was
the gathering-place for titled folk, city merchants, and other
Nonconformists of position and degree. At earlier times, when the
penal laws against Nonconformists were in vigorous exercise, Bunyan
had to hold his meetings by stealth in private houses and other
places where he might hope to escape the lynx-eyed informer. It
was at one of these furtive meetings that his earliest biographer,
the honest combmaker at the foot of London Bridge, Charles Doe,
first heard him preach. His choice of an Old Testament text at
first offended Doe, who had lately come into New Testament light
and had had enough of the "historical and doing-for-favour of the
Old Testament." But as he went on he preached "so New Testament
like" that his hearer's prejudices vanished, and he could only
"admire, weep for joy, and give the preacher his affections."
Bunyan was more than once urged to leave Bedford and settle in the
metropolis. But to all these solicitations he turned a deaf ear.
Bedford was the home of his deepest affections. It was there the
holy words of the poor women "sitting in the sun," speaking "as if
joy did make them speak," had first "made his heart shake," and
shown him that he was still a stranger to vital godliness. It was
there he had been brought out of darkness into light himself, and
there too he had been the means of imparting the same blessing to
others. The very fact of his long imprisonment had identified him
with the town and its inhabitants. There he had a large and loving
congregation, to whom he was bound by the ties of a common faith
and common sufferings. Many of these recognized in Bunyan their
spiritual father; all, save a few "of the baser sort," reverenced
him as their teacher and guide. No prospect of a wider field of
usefulness, still less of a larger income, could tempt him to
desert his "few sheep in the wilderness." Some of them, it is
true, were wayward sheep, who wounded the heart of their pastor by
breaking from the fold, and displaying very un-lamb-like behaviour.
He had sometimes to realize painfully that no pale is so close but
that the enemy will creep in somewhere and seduce the flock; and
that no rules of communion, however strict, can effectually exclude
unworthy members. Brother John Stanton had to be admonished "for
abusing his wife and beating her often for very light matters" (if
the matters had been less light, would the beating in these days
have been thought justifiable?); and Sister Mary Foskett, for
"privately whispering of a horrid scandal, 'without culler of
truth,' against Brother Honeylove." Evil-speaking and backbiting
set brother against brother. Dissensions and heartburnings grieved
Bunyan's spirit. He himself was not always spared. A letter had
to be written to Sister Hawthorn "by way of reproof for her
unseemly language against Brother Scot and the whole Church." John
Wildman was had up before the Church and convicted of being "an
abominable liar and slanderer," "extraordinary guilty" against "our
beloved Brother Bunyan himself." And though Sister Hawthorn
satisfied the Church by "humble acknowledgment of her miscariag,"
the bolder misdoer only made matters worse by "a frothy letter,"
which left no alternative but a sentence of expulsion. But though
Bunyan's flock contained some whose fleeces were not as white as he
desired, these were the exception. The congregation