Bunyan Characters (1st series) | Page 7

be
saved?' 'But at last'- -I quote from the session records of his future
church at Bedford-- 'God did so plentifully discover to him the
forgiveness of sins for the sake of Christ, that all his life after he lost
not the light of God's countenance, no, not for an hour, save only about
two days before he died.' Gifford's conversion had been so conspicuous
and notorious that both town and country soon heard of it: and instead
of being ashamed of it, and seeking to hide it, Gifford at once, and
openly, threw in his lot with the extremest Puritans in the Puritan town
of Bedford. Nor could Gifford's talents be hid; till from one thing to
another, we find the former Royalist and dissolute Cavalier actually the
parish minister of Bedford in Cromwell's so evangelical but otherwise
so elastic establishment.
At this point we open John Bunyan's Grace Abounding to the Chief of
Sinners, and we read this classical passage:- 'Upon a day the good
providence of God did cast me to Bedford to work in my calling: and in
one of the streets of that town I came where there were three or four
poor women sitting at the door in the sun and talking about the things

of God. But I may say I heard, but I understood not, for they were far
above and out of my reach . . . About this time I began to break my
mind to those poor people in Bedford, and to tell them of my condition,
which, when they had heard, they told Mr. Gifford of me, who himself
also took occasion to talk with me, and was willing to be well
persuaded of me though I think on too little grounds. But he invited me
to his house, where I should hear him confer with others about the
dealings of God with their souls, from all which I still received more
conviction, and from that time began to see something of the vanity and
inner wretchedness of my own heart, for as yet I knew no great matter
therein . . . At that time also I sat under the ministry of holy Mr. Gifford,
whose doctrine, by the grace of God, was much for my stability.' And
so on in that inimitable narrative.
The first minister whose words were truly blessed of God for our
awakening and conversion has always a place of his own in our hearts.
We all have some minister, some revivalist, some faithful friend, or
some good book in a warm place in our heart. It may be a great city
preacher; it may be a humble American or Irish revivalist; it may be
The Pilgrim's Progress, or The Cardiphonia, or the Serious
Call--whoever or whatever it was that first arrested and awakened and
turned us into the way of life, they all our days stand in a place by
themselves in our grateful heart. And John Gifford has been
immortalised by John Bunyan, both in his Grace Abounding and in his
Pilgrim's Progress. In his Grace Abounding, as we have just seen, and
in The Pilgrim, Gifford has his portrait painted in holy oil on the wall
of the Interpreter's house, and again in eloquent pen and ink in the
person of Evangelist.
John Gifford had himself made a narrow escape out of the City of
Destruction, and John Bunyan had, by Gifford's assistance, made the
same escape also. The scene, therefore, both within that city and
outside the gate of it, was so fixed in Bunyan's mind and memory that
no part of his memorable book is more memorably put than just its
opening page. Bunyan himself is the man in rags, and Gifford is the
evangelist who comes to console and to conduct him. Bunyan's
portraits are all taken from the life. Brilliant and well-furnished as
Bunyan's imagination was, Bedford was still better furnished with all
kinds of men and women, and with all kinds of saints and sinners. And

thus, instead of drawing upon his imagination in writing his books,
Bunyan drew from life. And thus it is that we see first John Gifford,
and then John Bunyan himself at the gate of the city; and then, over the
page, Gifford becomes the evangelist who is sent by the four poor
women to speak to the awakened tinker.
'Wherefore dost thou so cry?' asks Evangelist. 'Because,' replied the
man, 'I am condemned to die.' 'But why are you so unwilling to die,
since this life is so full of evils?' And I suppose we must all hear
Evangelist putting the same pungent question to ourselves every day, at
whatever point of the celestial journey we at present are. Yes; why are
we all so unwilling to die? Why do we