INTRODUCTORY NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR. 15

him. “ Verily, as I was going forth out of the doors, I had much ado to forbear saying to them that
I carried the peace of God along with me; and, blessed be the Lord, T went away to prison with
God’s comfort in my poor soul!”

His case seems to have given some trouble to the Justices. He was had up before them re-
peatedly, and always remanded. They were either unwilling or afraid to carry out Justice Keeling’s
threat of banishment. And as their prisoner would not promise to change his course, they kept
him where he was. His friends interceded for him. His wife, who was of a kindred spirit with
himself, came to London with a petition for his release, and had it presented to the House of Lords.
Although “a delicate young woman of retiring habits,” she appeared before the Judges and pleaded
his cause “in language worthy of the most talented counsel.” But all their efforts were in vain.
The one condition on which his release could be granted was the condition with which the prisoner
would not comply. “ Will your husband leave preaching?” said Judge Twisden to his wife; “aif
he will do so, then send for him.” “ My Lord,” she replied, “ he dares not leave preaching, so long
as he can speak.” “ My principles,” says Bunyan on another oceasion, “are such as lead me toa
denial to communicate in the things of the kingdom of Christ with ungodly and open profane ;
neither can I, in or by the superstitious inventions of this world consent that my soul should be
governed in any of my approaches to God, because commanded to the contrary, and commended for
so refusing. Wherefore, excepting this one thing, for which I ought not to be rebuked, I shall, I
trust, in despite of slander and falsehood, discover myself as a peaceable and obedient subject. But
if nothing will do unless I make my conscience a continual butchery and slaughter shop—unless,
putting out mine own eyes, I commit me to the blind to lead me (as I doubt is desired hy some)—I
have determined, the Almighty God being my help and shield, yet to suffer, and if frail life shall
continue so long, even till the moss shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather than violate my faith and
principles.”

He lay in prison for more than twelve years. Twelve years! How easy to write the words ; how
difficult to grasp all that they mean! The fifth part of his life at the season when life was in its
prime—when his. appreciation of nature was keenest—when free exercise would have proved the
greatest luxury to a stalwart frame like his-—-when he would have entered with the greatest zest into
home enjoyments—when his physical system was full of bounding life and capable of acting with the
greatest vigor—the fifth part of his life spent within the limits of a dungeon—the little cell which
he aptly calls hisden! What a testimony to the heroic endurance of the man! What a testimony
to his country’s disgrace! It is sad to think that England, with her Christian constitution, had no
better treatment than this for one of her noblest sons, whose worth, blinded as she was by flunkeyisms
and debaucheries in high places, she was unable to recognize.

To Bunyan it mattered little what they did. Happier far was he in prison than the clergyman
in his living, or the bishop in his palace, or the king on his throne. Yea, it may be questioned if in
all England there was a man so happy or so much to be envied as that prisoner on Bedford bridge.
The “ God’s peace ”——“ God’s comfort ”—-of which he speaks as dwelling in his “ poor soul,” is not
dependent on place or circumstances, cannot be disturbed by the treatment he receives. He who
hath it can defy the persecutor’s rage. Do to him what you will—strip him of his possessions and
friends—drive him into exile—make him a homeless wanderer—he is happier in his penury and
homelessness, than others in the abundance of their wealth and comfort. If, by prison walls, Bunyan
was shut out from nature’s beauty—from daylight and the fragrant air—still he has Jeft to him God
and himself. The soul’s freedom is unimpaired. It can soon soar above all restraint and enjey
Divine fellowship. No prison walls are so thick that prayer cannot pierce them. No dungeon
gloom so dark that it may not be radiated with celestial light.