GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF OF SINNERS: OR, A BRIEF AND FAITHFUL RELATION OF THE EXCEEDING MERCY OF GOD IN CHRIST TO HIS POOR SERVANT, JOHN BUNYAN; WHEREIN IS PARTICULARLY SHOWED THE MANNER OF HIS CONVERSION, HIS SIGHT AND TROUBLE FOR SIN, HIS DREADFUL TEMPTATIONS, ALSO HOW HE DESPAIRED of God's MERCY, AND HOW THE LORD AT LENGTH THROUGH CHRIST DID DELIVER HIM FROM ALL THE GUILT AND TERROR THAT LAY UPON HIM. Whereunto is added a brief relation of his call to the work of the ministry, of his temptations therein, as also what he hath met with in prison. All which was written by his own hand there, and now published for the support of the weak and tempted people of God. “Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.”—Psal. lxvi. 16. London: Printed by George Larkin, 1666. THIS TITLE PAGE was AFTERWARDS ALTERED, AND INSTEAD OF WHAT follows the FIRST LINE, HE INSERTED, Or a brief and faithful relation of the exceeding mercy of God in Christ to his poor servant, John Bunyan; namely, in his taking of him out of the dunghill, and converting of him to the faith of his blessed Son, Jesus Christ. Here is also particularly showed, what sight of, and what trouble he had for sin; and also what various temptations he hath met with, and how God hath carried him through them. Corrected and much enlarged now by the Author, for the benefit of the tempted and dejected Christian. "Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul."—Psal. Ixvi. 16. ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. THE great utility of remarkable accounts of the ways of God in bringing his sheep into the fold, must be admitted by all. The Bible abounds with these manifestations of Divine grace from the gentle voice that called Samuel, even unto the thunder which penetrated the soul of one, who followed the church with continued malignity, calling unto him, 'Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?". -a voice so terrible, and accompanied by such a flood of light, as to strike the persecutor to the earth, and for a season to deprive him of sight. The 'Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners' is doubly interesting, as it unfolds to us not only the return of a notorious prodigal, but a wondrous system of education, by which a chosen man was fitted for a wondrous work; heavenly and spiritual learning, which could not have been obtained in all the schools and universities in the world. It enabled a poor, vile, unlettered rebcl—a blasphemous travelling tinker, to become a most eminent preacher; one whose native powers, sanctified by harrowing but hallowing feelings, attracted the deep attention of the most learned and pious of his contemporaries, while it carried conviction to the most impious and profane. Even beyond all this, his spiritual acquirements fitted him, without scholastic learning, to become the most popular, the most attractive, the most useful of English authors. llis works increase remarkably in popularity. As time rolls on, they are still read with deeper and VOL. I. deeper interest, while his bodily presence and labours mingle in the records of the events of bygone ages. Bunyan's account of his singular trials and temptations may have excited alarm in the minds of some young Christians, lest they should be in an unconverted state, because they have not been called to pass through a similar mode of training. Pray recollect, my dear young Christian, that all are not called to such important public labours as Bunyan, or Whitfield, or Wesley. All the members of the Christian family are trained to fit them for their respective positions in the church of Christ. It is a pleasant and profitable exercise to look back to the day of our espousals, and trace the operations of Divine grace in digging us from the hole of the pit; but the important question with us all should be, not so much How we became enlightened, but Now do we love Christ? Now do we regret our want of greater conformity to his image? If we can honestly answer these questions in the affirmative, we are believers, and can claim our part in that precious promise, "Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." Spiritual life is ours, and eternal life is essentially connected with it, and must be our portion, without an inquiry into the means by which we were called, whether by the thunders and lightning of Sinai, as Paul was smitten, or by the "still small voice." Ac. ix. 3, ±. 1 Ki. xix. 12. Job iv. 16, 17. The value of such a narrative to a terror-stricken A prodigal is vividly shown by Bunyan, in his 'Jeru- | design; so that at every blow some new trait of salem Sinner Saved,' in one of those colloquial beauty in the future statue comes clearly into pieces of composition in which he eminently shone. view.'* 'Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. "What, my true servant," quoth he, "my old servant, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know, that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost think to find mercy now? Art Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at heaven-gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it?" Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply? saith the tempted. Why, I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how? No, saith he, I said, I am Magdalene, I am Zaccheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ's murderers; yea, worse than any of these; and yet God was so far off from rejecting of me, as I found afterwards, that there was music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I was come home unto him. O blessed bo God for grace, says the other, for then I hope there is favour for me.' The Grace Abounding' is a part of Bunyan's prison meditations, and strongly reminds us of the conversation between Christian and Hopeful on the enchanted ground. Christian. Now then, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse. Hopeful. With all my heart. Christian. Where shall we begin? Hopeful. Where God began with us.' To prevent drowsiness, to beguile the time, he looks back to his past experience, and the prison became his Patmos-the gate of heaven-a Bethel, in which his time was occupied in writing for the benefit of his fellow-Christians. He looks back upon all the wondrous way through which the Lord had led him from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion. While writing his own spiritual pilgrimage, his great work broke upon his imagination. 'And thus it was: I writing of the way, About their journey, and the way to glory.' A great difference of opinion has been expressed by learned men as to whether Bunyan's account of himself is to be understood literally, as it respects his bad conduct before his conversion, or whether he views himself through a glass, by which his evil habits are magnified. No one can doubt his perfect honesty perfect honesty He plainly narrates his bad, as well as his redeeming qualities; nor does his narrative appear to be exaggerated. He was the son of a travelling tinker, probably a gipsy, the meanest and most despised rank in the land' [2]; when, alarmed at his sins, recollecting that the Israelites were once the chosen people of God, he asked his father, whether he was of that race; as if he thought that his family were of some peculiar people, and it was easy for such a lad to blend the Egyptians with the Israelitish race [18]. When he was defamed, his slanderers called him a witch, or fortune teller, a Jesuit, a highwayman, or the like [307]. Brought up to his father's trade, with his evil habits unchecked [27], he became a very depraved lad; and when he states his sad character, it is with a solemn pledge that his account is strictly true [24]. Probably, with a view to the full gratification of his sinful propensities, he entered the army, and served among the profligate soldiers of Charles I. at the siege of Leicester [13].† During this time, he was ill at ease; he felt convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of judg ment, without a hope of mercy. Hence his misery and internal conflicts, perhaps the most remarkablo of any upon record. His own Giant Despair scized him with an iron grasp. He felt himself surrounded by invisible beings, and in the immediato presence of a holy God. By day, he was bewildered with tormenting visions, and by night alarming dreams presented themselves to him upon his bed. The fictitious appeared to his terrified imagination realities. Ilis excited spirit became familiar with shapeless forms and fearful powers. The sorrows of death, and the pains of hell, got hold upon him. His internal conflict was truly horrible, as one who thought himself under the power of demons; they whispered in his ears-pulled his clothes; he madly fought, striking at imaginary shades with his hands, and stamping with his feet at the destroyer. Thoughts of the unpardonable sin beset him, his powerful bodily frame became convulsed with agony, as if his breast bone would split, and he burst asunder like Judas. He possessed a * Dr. Cheever. it, and cruelly treated the inhabitants; upon the republicans Leicester was only besieged by the royal army, who took appearing before it, the city surrendered at once without a siege.-L.D. most prolific mind, affording constant nourishment to this excited state of his feelings. He thought that he should be bereft of his wits; then a voice rushed in at the window like the noise of wind, very pleasant, and produced a great calm in his soul. Ilis intervals of ease, however, were short; the recollection of his sins, and a fear that he had sold his Saviour, haunted his affrighted spirit. His soul became so tormented, as to suggest to his ideas the sufferings of a malefactor broken upon the wheel. The climax of these terrors is narrated at paragraph No. 187. Thus was I always sinking, whatever I did think or do. So one day I walked to a neighbouring town, and sat down upon a settle in the street, and fell into a very deep pause about the most fearful state my sin had brought me to; and, after long musing, I lifted up my head, but methought I saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light; and as if the very stones in the street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me; methought that they all combined together, to banish me out of the world; I was abhorred of them, and unfit to dwell among them, or be partaker of their benefits, because I had sinned against the Saviour.' In this deep abyss of misery, THAT love which has heights and depths passing knowledge, laid under him the everlasting arms, and raised him from the horrible pit and miry clay, when no human powers could have reached his case. Dr. Cheever eloquently remarks, that it was through this valley of the shadow of death, overhung by darkness, peopled with devils, resounding with blasphemy and lamentations; and passing amidst quagmires and pitfalls, close by the very mouth of hell, that Bunyan journeyed to that bright and fruitful land of Beulah, in which he sojourned during the latter days of his pilgrimage.' The only trace which his cruel sufferings and temptations seem to have left behind them, was an affectionate compassion for those who were still in the state in which he had once been. Young Christians, you must not imagine that all these terrors are absolute pre-requisites to faith in the Saviour. God, as a sovereign, calls his children to himself by various ways. Bunyan's was a very extraordinary case, partly from his carly habits-his excitable mind, at a period so calculated to fan a spark of such feelings into a flame. His extraordinarily inventive faculties, softened down and hallowed by this fearful experience, became fitted for most extensive usefulness. To eulogize this narrative, would be like 'gilding refined gold;' but I cannot help remarking, among a multitude of deeply interesting passages, his observations upon that honest open avowal of Christian principles, which brought down severe persecution upon him. They excite our tenderest sympathy; his being dragged from his home and wife and children, he says, 'hath oft been to me, as the pulling my flesh from my bones; my poor blind child, what sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world! thou must be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow upon thee. O, I saw I was as a man who was pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children; yet, recollecting myself, thought I, I must venture you all withi God' [327, 328, 334]. How awful must be the state of the wretched persecutor, who occasions such sufferings to the children of the most high God! In this edition, the greatest care has been taken to preserve the exact words of the author, as he first published them; where he altered or added to the text in subsequent editions, it is marked with an inverted comma, or inserted in the notes. Obsolete words and customs are explained; the numbering of his sections is continued, in addition to which, it is divided into chapters for family reading, upon the plan of the late Rev. J. Ivimey; double inverted commas denote quotations of Scripture. The reader is strongly pressed to keep in his recollection the peculiar use made of the word should, by the author in this narrative. It is from the Saxon scealan, to be obliged. Thus, in the Saxon Gospels, Mat. xxvii. 15, "the governor should release unto the people a prisoner;" in our version it is, "was wont to release," meaning that custom compelled him so to do. In Bunyan's phraseology, the word should is used in the same sense, that is, to show that, under peculiar circumstances, his feelings or position involuntarily produced a certain result. Thus, in No. 6, Troubled with the thoughts of judgment and condemnation I should tremble; and in No. 15, The father of his wife having left her two books, in these I should sometimes read; probably the only books he then had. It is remarkable, that although the Saxon language had not been spoken in Bedfordshire for many centuries, still many valuable words remained in use. The order in which this thrilling narrative of Bunyan's religious feelings and experience is now for the first time published, is, I. Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners-his call to the ministry, and his imprisonment for refusing to attend the Church of England service. II. His Relation of the Circumstances attending his incarceration in Bedford Jail. III. The continuation of his Life to his decease, written by one of his friends, and always printed with Grace Abounding. IV. His Dying Thoughts. V. Ilis Prison Meditationsverses which were probably sold on a broadside or sheet of paper by his children, to procure neces saries for his family. GRACE ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS; OR, A BRIEF RELATION OF THE EXCEEDING MERCY OF GOD IN CHRIST, TO HIS POOR SERVANT, JOIIN BUNYAN, [BUNYAN'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF PREVIOUS TO HIS CONVERSION.] 1. In this my relation of the merciful working of God upon my soul, it will not be amiss, if, in the first place, I do, in a few words, give you a hint of my pedigree, and manner of bringing up; that thereby the goodness and bounty of God towards me, may be the more advanced and magnified before the sons of men. 2. For my descent then, it was, as is well known by many, of a low and inconsiderable generation; my father's house being of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families in the land.* Wherefore I have not here, as others, to boast of noble blood, or of a high-born state, according to the flesh; though, all things considered, I magnify the heavenly Majesty, for that by this door he brought me into this world, to partake of the grace and life that is in Christ by the gospel. 3. But yet, notwithstanding the meanness and inconsiderableness of my parents,* it pleased God to put it into their hearts to put me to school, to learn both to read and write; the which I also attained, according to the rate of other poor men's children;† though, to my shame I confess, I did soon lose that little I learned, and that even almost utterly, and that long before the Lord did work his gracious work of conversion upon my soul. 4. As for my own natural life, for the time that I was without God in the world, it was indeed according to the course of this world, and "the spirit *Bunyan says very little about his parents. In his treatise on 'Christian Behaviour,' he concludes his observations on the duties of a pious son to ungodly parents with this remarkable prayer, The Lord, if it be his will, convert OUR poor parents, that they, with us, may be the children of God.' Although this does not demonstrate that his own parents were ungodly, yet his silence as to their piety upon all occasions when speaking of them, and the fervent feeling expressed in this short prayer, inclines me to conclude that they were not pious persons in his judgment.-ED. Mr. Bunyan alludes to the poverty of his education in several of his works. Thus, in his Scriptural poems'I am no poet, nor a poet's son But a mechanic, guided by no rule But what I gained in a grammar school, And in the preface to "The Law and Grace:' 'Reader, if thou do find this book empty of fantastical expressions, and without light, vain, whimsical, scholar-like terms; thou must understand, it is because I never went to school to Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at my father's house, in a very mean condition, among a company of poor countrymen.'— ED. that now worketh in the children of disobedience." 'Ep. ii. 2, 3.' It was my delight to be "taken cap. tive by the devil at his will." 2 Ti. ii. 26. Being filled with all unrighteousness: the which did also so strongly work and put forth itself, both in my heart and life, and that from a child, that I had but few equals, especially considering my years, which were tender, being few, both for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy name of God. 5. Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became as a second nature to me; the which, as I also have with soberness considered since, did so offend the Lord, that even in my childhood he did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions; for often, after I had spent this and the other day in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted, while asleep, with the apprehensions of devils and wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured to draw me away with them, of which I could never be rid. 6. Also I should, at these years, be greatly afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the day of judgment, and that both night and day, and should tremble at the thoughts of the fearful torments of hell fire; still fearing that it would be my lot to be found at last amongst those devils and hellish fiends, who are there bound down with the chains and bonds of eternal darkness, "unto the judgment of the great day." 7. These things, I say, when I was but a child, but nine or ten years old,' did so distress my soul, that when in the midst of my many sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain companions, I was often much cast down and afflicted in my mind therewith, yet could I not let go my sins. Yea, I was also then' so overcome with despair of life and heaven, that I should often wish either that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil-supposing they were only tormentors; that if it must needs be that I went thither, I might be rather a tormentor, than 'be' tormented myself. 8. A while after, these terrible dreams did leave me, which also I soon forgot; for my pleasures did quickly cut off the remembrance of them, as greediness, according to the strength of nature, I if they had never been: wherefore, with more did still let loose the reins to my lusts, and delighted in all transgression against the law of God: so that, until I came to the state of marriage, I was the very ringleader of all the youth that kept ! me company, into all manner of vice and ungodli ness. 9. Yea, such prevalency had the lusts and fruits of the flesh in this poor soul of mine, that had not a miracle of precious grace prevented, I had not only perished by the stroke of eternal justice, but had also laid myself open, even to the stroke of those laws, which bring some to disgrace and open shame before the face of the world. 10. In these days, the thoughts of religion were very grievous to me; I could neither endure it myself, nor that any other should; so that, when I have seen some read in those books that concerned christian piety, it would be as it were a prison to me. Then I said unto God, "Depart from me, for I desire not the knowledge of thy ways." Job xxi. 14. I was now void of all good consideration, heaven and hell were both out of sight and mind; and as for saving and damning, they were least in my thoughts.† O Lord, thou knowest my life, and my ways were not hid from thee. 11. Yet this I well remember, that though I could myself sin with the greatest delight and ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of my companions; yet, even then, if I have at any time seen wicked things, by those who professed goodness, it would make my spirit tremble. As once, above all the rest, when I was in my heighth of vanity, yet hearing one to swear that was reckoned for a religious man, it had so great a stroke upon my spirit, that it made my heart to ache. 12. But God did not utterly leave me, but fol'lowed me still, not now with convictions, but 'judgments; yet such as were mixed with mercy. For once I fell into a creek of the sea, and hardly 'escaped drowning. Another time I fell out of a 'boat into Bedford river, but mercy yet preserved 'me alive. Besides, another time, being in the 'field with one of my companions, it chanced that 'an adder passed over the highway; so I, having stick in my hand, struck her over the back; ́ and having stunned her, I forced open her mouth * with my stick, and plucked her sting out with my fingers; by which act, had not God been merciful ' unto me, I might, by my desperateness, have brought myself to mine end. 13. This also have I taken notice of with thanksgiving; when I was a soldier, I, with others, were drawn out to go to such a place to 'besiege it; but when I was just ready to go, one 'of the company desired to go in my room; to I have been vile myself, but have obtained mercy; and I would have my companions in sin partake of mercy too.'— Preface to Jerusalem Sinner Saved.-ED. Every careless sinner, or wicked professor, carries upon h's forehead the name of Infidel and Atheist, a practical unbeliever in the Bible, in the day of judgment, and in the existence of a holy God.--ED 6 which, when I had consented, he took my place; and coming to the siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot into the head with a musket bullet, and died.‡ 14. Here, as I said, were judgments and mercy, but neither of them did awaken my soul to righteousness; wherefore I sinned still, and grew more and more rebellious against God, and careless of 'mine own salvation.' 15. Presently after this, I changed my condition into a married state, and my mercy was to light upon a wife whose father was counted godly.|| This woman and I, though we came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or spoon betwixt us both, yet this she had for her part, The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven, and The Practice of Piety, which her father had left her when he died. In these two books I should sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some things that were somewhat pleasing to me; but all this while I met with no conviction. She also would be often telling of me, what a godly man her father was, and how he would reprove and correct vice, both in his house, and amongst his neighbours; what a strict and holy life he lived in his day, both in word and deed. 16. Wherefore these books with this relation, though they did not reach my heart, to awaken it about my sad and sinful state, yet they did beget within me some desires to religion: so that, because I knew no better, I fell in very eagerly with the religion of the times; to wit, to go to church twice a day, and that too with the foremost; and there should very devoutly, both say and sing as others did, yet retaining my wicked life; but withal, I was so overrun with a spirit of superstition, that I adored, and that with great devotion, even all things, both the high place, priest, clerk, vestment, service, and what else belonging to the church; counting all things holy that were therein contained, and especially the priest and clerk most happy, and without doubt, greatly blessed, because they were the servants, as I then thought, of God, and were principal in the holy temple, to do his work therein. 17. This conceit grew so strong in little time Bunyan served in the wars between Charles I. and his country, but it is not known on which side. Judging from his delight in all transgressions against the law of God,' as he describes his conduct to have been at that time, he must have served on the king's side, as one of his drunken cavaliers. Probably this event took place when Leicester was besieged by the king's troops.—Ed. The notice of his wife's father being a godly man, and not mentioning anything of the kind with regard to his own parents, strengthens my conclusion that they were not professors of religion. This very copy of the Pathway to Heaven here noticed, with the name of Bunyan on the title, is in the Editor's possession.-ED. 1 |