have now been related which formed and developed the inner man; and
the few external events that befel him, and the few important things
that he did, during the remaining eight-and-twenty years of his
mortal pilgrimage, may be recorded in a single page.

His imprisonment was protracted from sessions to sessions, till he
had measured out twelve weary years in Bedford gaol. Perhaps we
should not call them WEARY. They had their alleviations. His wife
and children were allowed to visit him. His blind and most beloved
daughter was permitted to cheer his solitude and her own. He had his
Bible, and his "Book of Martyrs." He had his imagination, and his
pen. Above all, he had a good conscience. He felt it a blessed
exchange to quit the "iron cage" of despair for a "den" oft visited
by a celestial comforter; and which, however cheerless, did not lack
a door to heaven.

Whether it was the man's own humanity, or whether it was that God who
assuaged Joseph's captivity, gave Bunyan special favour in the eyes
of the keeper of his prison, the fact is certain, that he met with
singular indulgence at the least likely hands. Not only was he
allowed many a little indulgence in his cell, but he was suffered to
go and come with a freedom which could hardly have been exceeded had
the county gaol been his own hired house. For months together he was
a constant attender of the church-meetings of his brethren in
Bedford, and was actually chosen pastor during the period of his
incarceration. On one occasion some of the bishops who had heard a
rumour of the unusual liberty conceded to him, sent a messenger from
London to Bedford to ascertain the truth. The officer was instructed
to call at the prison during the night. It was a night when Bunyan
had received permission to stay at home with his family; but so