Chapter VIII (3)

Now, a little before it was day, _Christian_ as in amaze, broke out, “What a fool am I to continue in this noisome dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty? I have a key in my bosom, called _Promise_, that will, I am persuaded open any lock in _Doubting-castle_.” “That, said _Hopeful_, is good news indeed; pluck it out of thy bosom and try.”

Then _Christian_ tried it at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as he turned the key) gave back, and the door flew open with ease. They went next to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and, with this key, opened that door also. The iron gate was next: but that lock went very hard. Yet in awhile did the key open it: so they stopped not till they came to the king’s highway, where they were out of the giant’s jurisdiction.

Then they went on till they came to the _Delectable Mountains_, where were gardens and orchards, and vineyards, and fountains of water: here they drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the fruit of the vineyards. Now there were on the top of these mountains, shepherds feeding their flocks by the way-side. The pilgrims therefore went to them, and asked, whose mountains are these? And whose are the sheep that feed upon them?

_Shepherd._ These mountains are _Immanuel_’s land, and they are within sight of his city. And the sheep that feed here are his also, and he laid down his life for them.

_Christian._ Is there any relief in this place for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way?

_Shepherd._ The lord of these mountains has given a charge, _not to be forgetful to entertain strangers_: “Therefore the good of the place is before you.” So they took them by the hand, and led them to their tents. After a short refreshment, (it being now late) they all betook them to their rest.

In the morning they called up _Christian_ and _Hopeful_ to walk with them upon the mountains. So they went forth and walked with them, having a pleasant prospect on every side. From thence they led them to the top of a hill called _Error_, which was very steep on the further side, and bid them look down to the bottom. They looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed to pieces by a fall from the top. Then said _Christian_, who are these? “Have you not heard,” said the shepherds, “of them that were made to err, by hearkening to _Hymenæus_ and _Philetus_, concerning the resurrection of the body? These that you see lie dashed in pieces are they; and they continue unburied to this day, for an example to others, that they clamber not too high, nor come too near the brink of this mountain.”

*Then I saw in my dream, that the shepherds had them to another place, where was a door in the side of a hill. They opened the door and bad them look in. They looked, and saw that it was very dark and smoaky; also they heard a roaring noise, as of fire, and cries and groans, as of men in torment. Then said _Christian_, what means this? This, answered the shepherds, is a bye-way to hell; a way that hypocrites go, and those that did run well, but do not endure to the end. Then said the pilgrims, looking on each other, _We have need to cry to the strong for strength_. “True,” said the shepherds, “and you have need to use it when you have it too.”

When they were about to depart, one of the shepherds gave them a note of the way. Another bid them, “Beware of the flatterer.” The third said, “Sleep not on inchanted ground.” So they went down the mountains, along the highway. Now a little below the mountains, on the left-hand, lies the country of _Conceit_; from which country a little crooked lane runs into the way where the pilgrims walked. Here they met with a very brisk young man, who came out of that country: his name was _Ignorance_. So _Christian_ asked, “Whence he came, and whither he was going?”

_Ignorance._ Sir, I was born in the country that lies on the left-hand, and am going to mount _Zion_.

_Christian._ And how do you think to get there?

_Ignorance._ As other good people do.

_Christian._ But what have you to shew at the gate, that it may be opened to you?

_Ignorance._ Why, I do no harm. I pay every man his own. I work hard for an honest living. I say my prayers, and keep my church, and go to the sacrament, and do what good I can.

_Christian._ But you came not in at the strait gate. You came in through that crooked lane; and therefore I fear, whatever you think of yourself, you will at that day be judged a thief and a robber.

_Ignorance._ Gentlemen, you are strangers to me; be content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow that in which I was born and bred. I won’t leave the church. As for the gate you talk of, all the world knows, it is a great way off our country. I cannot think that any men in all our parts do so much as know the way to it; nor need they matter, since we have a fine green lane, as you see, that comes straight down into the way.

_Christian._ This man is wise in his own conceit. There is more hope of a fool than of him.

_Hopeful._ Perhaps we should not say all to him at once, let us pass on, and speak to him again by and by.

So they went on, and _Ignorance_ came after. When they had past him a little way, they came into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying back to the door on the side of the hill. On his back was a paper with this inscription, _The just shall live by faith; but if he draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him_.

This puts me in mind, said _Christian_, of what happened to a pilgrim here, whose name was _Little-faith._ At the entrance of this passage there comes down, from _Broad-way Gate_, a lane, called _Deadman’s-Lane_. This _Little-Faith_ chanced to sit down there, and fell asleep. Three brothers, _Faintheart_, _Mistrust_, and _Guilt_, were just then coming down that lane as he awaked, and was getting up to go on his journey. They immediately called to him to stand, and bid him deliver what he had; which he not doing readily, _Faintheart_ and _Mistrust_ stepped up and took it from him. He then cried out, Thieves; on which _Mistrust_, with a great club, struck him on the head, and felled him to the ground: but just then hearing some that were upon the road, and fearing it might be one _Great-Grace_, they left _Little-Faith_ to shift for himself, and fled away with all speed.

_Hopeful._ Doubtless these three fellows were mere cowards, or they would not so soon have run away. Methinks _Little-Faith_ might have stood one brush with them, if he had yielded at last.

_Christian._ Few have found them cowards. They once set upon _me_; and though I was cloathed in armour of proof, I found it hard work to quit myself like a man. No man knows what a combat that is, but he that has been engaged in it himself.

_Hopeful._ Well, but they ran away as soon as they only supposed that _Great-Grace_ was a coming.

_Christian._ No marvel; for he is the King’s champion. But all the King’s subjects are not his champions; nor can they, in the day of trial, do such feats of war as he.

_Hopeful._ I would I had been _Great-Grace_ for their sakes.

_Christian._ If it had been he, he might have had his hands full. For I must tell you, although he can deal with them as long as he keeps them at sword’s point; yet if ever they get within him, it will go hard but they will give him a sore fall.

Besides, their King is always at their call, ready to come to their help. And of him it is said, _The sword of him that layeth at him, cannot hold the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. Darts are counted as stubble. He laugheth at the shaking of the spear._

When therefore we hear of such robbers as these, it behoveth us to go out well harnessed, and be sure to have a good shield; for indeed if that be wanting, they fear us not at all: therefore he that hath skill hath said, _Above all, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked_.

’Tis good also that we desire the King, that he would go with us himself; and then we need not be afraid if thousands had set themselves against us round about: but without him _the proud helpers shall fall under the slain_.

So they went on till they came to a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, which seemed to lie as straight as the other, insomuch that they knew not which to take. As they were standing to consider, a man of black flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came smiling to them, and lovingly asked, “Why do you stand here?” They answered, “We are going to mount _Zion_, but know not which of these ways to take.” “I am glad, said the man, you are of so good a mind. Few men are so wise as you. Follow me, my dear friends, and I will shew you the way. Such as you deserve to be honoured of all men.” So they followed him, till, by little and little the way turned, and their faces were set toward the city of _Destruction_. And before they were aware, they were got within the compass of a net, which he drew upon them and held them fast. The white robe then fell off the black man’s back; and they saw where they were, but could not escape.

Then said _Christian_, I see my error now. Did not the shepherds tell us to beware of the flatterer? How true is that word, _A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet_!

_Hopeful._ They also gave us a note of direction about the way; but we forgot to read it, else we should have _kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer_. Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net, when they saw a shining one coming toward them, with a whip of small cords in his hand. He asked, What do ye here? They answered, We were led out of the way by a black man cloathed in white. He is a _flatterer_, said he, _a false apostle, Satan transformed into an angel of light_. So he rent the net, and said, “Follow me;” and led them back into the way they had left. Then he asked them, “Did not the shepherds on the mountains give you a note of the way? Why did you not read it? And did they not bid you beware of the flatterer?” They were speechless. So he commanded them to lie down, and chastised them sore, saying, _As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore and repent_.

I saw then in my dream, that they arose and went on, until they came into a country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy. And here _Hopeful_ began to be very heavy, and said to _Christian_, “I can scarce hold open my eyes; let us lie down and sleep awhile.”

_Christian._ By no means, lest we wake no more.

_Hopeful._ Why, my brother? _The sleep of a labouring man is sweet._

_Christian._ Do you not remember the caution of the shepherd, sleep not on inchanted ground?

_Hopeful._ I acknowledge my fault. I see it is true, as the wise man saith, _Two are better than one_.

_Christian._ To prevent drowsiness then, let us discourse a little together. How came you at first to look after the good of your soul?

_Hopeful._ For a long time I delighted in those things which are seen and sold at our fair, in the riches and pleasures of the world, till I heard from _Faithful_ and you, that _the end of these things is death_.

_Christian._ But was you fully convinced of this at once?

_Hopeful._ No; I strove to stifle my convictions; and when my mind was shaken with the word of God, laboured to shut my eyes against the light.

_Christian._ How so?

_Hopeful._ I knew not that this was the work of God upon me, but called it _lowness of spirits_; and sin was so sweet to me, that I was loth to leave it; besides, I could not tell how to part with my old companions.

_Christian._ Then it seems you shook off your troubles sometimes.

_Hopeful._ Yes; but it came again worse than before.

_Christian._ What was it that brought your sins to your mind again?

_Hopeful._ Many things: as, if I met but a good man in the street; or if I heard one read the bible; or, if my head began to ake; or, if I was told of any that was sick; or, if I heard the bell toll for one that was dead; or, if I thought of dying myself or heard of a sudden death: but, above all, when I thought I must quickly come to judgment.

_Christian._ But could you not shake off your thoughts?

_Hopeful._ No; they got faster hold upon me, till I could have no rest in sin.

_Christian._ And how did you then?

_Hopeful._ I thought I must mend my life; and so I did, leaving my old sins and company too. Likewise I began to read, and pray, and fast, and go to church, and to the sacrament, and to do good. And now for a time I thought all was well; but it was not long before my trouble came again.

_Christian._ How so? Had you not reformed your life?

_Hopeful._ Yes; but I had not reformed my heart. I found that was still as bad, or worse than ever; full of anger, pride, lust, and what not? I found my _inward parts were very wickedness_; that I was _earthly, sensual, and devilish_, having still a _carnal mind that was enmity against God_, and _brought me into captivity to sin and death_. I saw more and more, that there _dwelt in me no good thing_; no love of God; no true love of my neighbour. Above all, I was convinced I had not faith; not _that faith which overcometh the world_: and that was always sounding in my ears, _He that believeth not shall be damned_.

_Christian._ And what effect had this?

_Hopeful._ I then remembered that it is written, _All our righteousness is as filthy rags_, availing nothing toward our reconciliation with God, or the forgiveness of our sins. I saw that all I could do all my life long, would not atone for one sin that was past; nay, though I could now keep all God’s law, and offend in no point. For if a man (thought I) runs a hundred pounds into a merchant’s debt, and after that pays for all that he takes; yet if this old debt stands still in the book uncrossed, the merchant may sue him, and cast him into prison, till he shall pay the whole.

_Christian._ How did you apply this to yourself?

_Hopeful._ Why I thought with myself, I have by sin run far in debt with God, and my reforming now will not pay that debt. How then shall I be freed from that damnation, to which I know myself to be justly exposed, by my former transgressions?

Besides, I still saw sin mixing itself with the best actions I could do: So that I was forced to conclude, that, notwithstanding my former opinion of myself, I committed sin enough in one day to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless.

_Christian._ And what did you do then?

_Hopeful._ I knew not what to do, till I went and talked with _Faithful_; who told me, unless I had an interest in the righteousness of one that had never sinned, neither my own righteousness, nor all the righteousness of the world, could save me. I asked, who it was that had never sinned? He answered, “the Lord Jesus: and you only can be forgiven and accepted with God through faith in his blood.” “But how, said I, can _his_ righteousness justify _me_ before God?” He told me, he was the mighty God, and did what he did, and died the death also, not for himself, but for _me_; to whom the merits of all should be imputed, if I believe on him. I replied, “I did not think he was willing to save _me_.” He bid me go to him and see. I said, “It was presumption.” He answered, “No; for I was invited to come.” Then I asked, what must I do when I come? And he bid me say to this effect: “God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus; for I see, if I have not faith in his blood, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard, that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained him to be the Saviour of the world; and moreover, that thou art willing to accept, in him, even such a poor sinner as I am. O magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ!”

_Christian._ And did you do this?

_Hopeful._ Yes, over and over, before I found any relief.

_Christian._ Had you not thoughts then of giving it over?

_Hopeful._ Yes, a hundred times; but I knew not what else to do, being convinced, that without Christ, all the world could not save me; and therefore, thought I with myself, if I leave off, I die; and I can but die, if I continue. And withal this came into my mind, _If it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come; it will not tarry_.

_Christian._ And how was you relieved?

*_Hopeful._ One day I was very sad, I think sadder than ever before in my life, and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins; and I was looking for nothing but hell, when suddenly I saw (not with my bodily eyes) the Lord look down from heaven upon me, saying, _Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved_.

Then those scriptures came like a flood into my heart. _He that cometh to me, shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me, shall never thirst. Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth. He hath died for our sins, and rose again for our justification. There is one mediator between God and man, even the man Christ Jesus. Wherefore he is able to save unto the uttermost those that come unto God through him; seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them._

_Christian._ And what effect had this upon your spirit and life?

_Hopeful._ I was filled with _a peace that passeth all understanding. I rejoiced with joy unspeakable. The love of God was shed abroad in my heart; and sin had no more dominion over me_; but _I ran the way of his commandments, now he had set my heart at liberty_.

I saw then in my dream, that _Hopeful_ looked back, and saw _Ignorance_, whom he had left behind, coming after. Then, said he come away, man: why do you stay behind? Come, how do you do? How stands it now between God and your soul?

_Ignorance._ I hope well, for I am full of good thoughts.

_Christian._ What good thoughts?

_Ignorance._ Why, I think of God and heaven.

_Christian._ So do the devils and damned souls.

_Ignorance._ But I desire them too.

_Christian._ So do many that never came there. _The soul of the sluggard desireth and hath nothing._

_Ignorance._ Nay but I leave all for them.

_Christian._ I doubt that. Why dost thou think so?

_Ignorance._ My heart tells me so.

_Christian._ _He that trusteth his own heart, is a fool._

_Ignorance._ Ay if his heart be evil; but mine is good.

_Christian._ How dost thou prove that?

_Ignorance._ Why I lead a good life.

_Christian._ Who told thee thou leadest a good life?

_Ignorance._ Who told me! My own heart.

_Christian._ Ask my fellow if I be a thief. Thy heart tells thee so! Except the word of God bear witness in this matter, other testimony is nothing worth.

Hast thou the peace of God? Hast thou joy in the Holy Ghost? Is the love of God shed abroad in thy heart? Doth his Spirit witness with thy spirit, that thou art a child of God? Hast thou redemption in Christ’s blood, the forgiveness of thy sins? Art thou dead unto sin, and alive unto God? Hast thou crucified the flesh, with its affections and lusts? Hath the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, made thee free from the law of sin and death?

_Ignorance._ You talk too high for me? I am a poor sinner, and I believe in Christ, and that is enough.

_Christian._ I fear, hell is full of such poor sinners as thou. But how dost thou believe in Christ?

_Ignorance._ Why, I believe Christ died for sinners, and that my sins will be forgiven, through God’s gracious acceptance of my sincerity and best endeavours to obey his laws.

_Christian._ 1. Thou believest then with a fantastical faith; for this faith is no where described in the word. 2. Thou believest with a false faith; because thou takest justification from the blood and righteousness of Christ, and appliest it to thy own. 3. This first maketh Christ not a justifier ♦of thy person, but of thy actions; and of thy person, for the sake of thy actions. Therefore this faith is utterly deceitful, and will leave thee under wrath in the day of the Lord.

♦ “rf” replaced with “of”

True justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon flying for refuge to the blood and righteousness of Christ. And this righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which he maketh thy obedience acceptable to God for thy justification.

No, but Christ did and suffered what was required at our hands; and for the sake of what he did and suffered, we are pardoned and accepted of God.

_Ignorance._ And so you would have us do nothing! We may live as we list; since we are justified by faith alone!

_Christian._ As thy name is, so art thou. Thou art ignorant of the fruits of faith in the blood of Christ. He that believeth in Christ, loveth God; and whosoever loveth him keepeth his commandments.

_Hopeful._ Was Christ ever revealed to you?

_Ignorance._ What, you are for new revelations! And receiving the Holy Ghost, I suppose! I believe what both you and all the rest of you say about these matters, is all whim and enthusiasm, the effects of mere imagination, or a distempered brain.

_Hopeful._ Why, man, _None knoweth the Son save he unto whom the Father revealeth him: and no man calleth Jesus Lord, but by the Holy Ghost_.

_Ignorance._ That is _your_ faith but it is not _mine_: yet mine, I doubt not is as good as yours; though I have not my head filled with so many whims and fancies.

_Christian._ Give me leave to put in a word: you ought not to speak so slightly of this matter: for _no man can know_ Jesus Christ, _save he to whom the Father revealeth him_: and that faith whereby the soul layeth hold on Christ, must be wrought by _the exceeding greatness of his mighty power_. Of this faith I perceive thou art wholly ignorant. Awake thou that sleepest. Know thyself. See thy own weakness. Fly to the Lord Jesus, and by his righteousness thou shalt be delivered from condemnation.

_Ignorance._ You walk so fast, I cannot keep pace with you; go on, I must stay awhile behind.

Do you think, said _Hopeful_, that such men as these have never any convictions of sin?

_Christian._ Without doubt they have, more or less, but they desperately stifle them.

_Hopeful._ Nay, why should they stifle them?

_Christian._ 1. Because they think these fears are wrought by the devil, which indeed are wrought of God. 2. They think also, they have no reason thus to fear, and therefore harden themselves in presumptuous confidence. 3. They see these fears would rob them of their beloved self-righteousness, and therefore resist them with all their might.

*Now I saw in my dream, that by this time they were got over the inchanted ground, and entering into the country of _Beulah_, the way lying directly over it. They were now far beyond the _valley of the ♦Shadow of Death_, and also out of the reach of giant _Despair_; neither could they, from this place, so much as see _Doubting-castle_. In this country there is no darkness at all, the sun shining night and day; there are no storms or tempests, but the air is always calm and serene. Here the flowers all the year appear in the earth, throughout the perpetual spring: and they continually heard the singing of birds, and the voice of the turtle in the land. They were now within sight of the city they were going to; and met with several of the inhabitants of it. Yea, in this land their Lord himself commonly walked. It being on the borders of heaven. In this land also the contract between the bride and bridegroom was renewed: and _as a bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them_. Here they had no want of corn or wine, but abundance of all things, being in a land that flowed with milk and honey. Mean time they heard voices out of the city, loud voices, saying, _Say ye to the daughter of Zion, behold thy salvation cometh_: and all the inhabitants of the country called them, _the holy people, the redeemed of the Lord_.

♦ “Shadom” replaced with “Shadow”

As they walked in this land, they rejoiced evermore; yea, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. And drawing near to the city, they had a more perfect view thereof. It was built of pearls and precious stones, and the streets were paved with gold. So that _Christian_ with desire fell sick; nor indeed was _Hopeful_ much better. Insomuch that they were constrained to cry out, _Feed me with apples, stay me with flagons; for I am sick of love_.

When they were strengthened a little, they went on their way, and came nearer and nearer; where were orchards, vineyards and gardens. The gardener stood in the way, and leading them into the vineyard, bid them refresh themselves with the fruit. He also shewed them here the King’s walks and arbours, where they delighted to be; and here they tarried and slept.

So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the city; but the reflection of the sun (for the city was pure gold) was so extremely glorious, that they were not able to behold it with open face; but only thro’ a glass. And as they went on there met them two men in raiment shining like gold; also their faces shone as the light.

These asked the pilgrims, Whence they came? Where they had lodged? What difficulties ♦and dangers, and what comforts they had found in the way? To all which they answered briefly. Then said they, “You have but two difficulties more, and you enter into the city.”

♦ duplicate word “and” removed

_Christian_ then and his companion asked them to go with them; they said, “We will; but you must enter in by your own faith.” So I saw in my dream that they went on together till they came in sight of the gate.

Now I saw there was a deep river between them and the gate, and there was no bridge over it: at the sight of this the pilgrims stopt; but the men said, “You must go through or you cannot come to the gate.”

*They enquired, if there were no other way to the gate: To which they answered, “Yes; but there hath not any save two, _Enoch_ and _Elijah_, trod that path since the foundation of the world.” Then they asked, if the waters were all of a depth? They said, “No: but we cannot help you in this case; for you will find them either shallower or deeper, according to your faith.”

Then they went in; but _Christian_ began to sink, and cried out to his friend, _I sink in the deep waters: the billows go over my head, all the waves go over me_.

*Then said _Hopeful_, “Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom, and it is good.” Oh, my friend, said _Christian_, _The sorrows of death have compassed me round about_. I shall not _see the land that floweth with milk and honey_. And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon him, so that he could not see before him; also he lost in a great measure, his senses, so that he could not remember any of the refreshments or deliverances that he had met with before in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake, still tended to discover the anguish of his spirit, and his fear that he should die in the river, and never enter into the gate. Here also the sins that he had committed, both before and after he was a pilgrim, were brought all together to his remembrance, and terrified him afresh. He was also troubled with the apparition of evil spirits, as if they would have torn him in pieces; so that _Hopeful_ here had much ado to keep his brother’s head above water; yea, sometimes he sunk; and then in awhile rose up again half dead: however, he still endeavoured to comfort him, saying, “I see the gate, and men standing to receive us.” “’Tis you, said _Christian_, whom they stand to receive; I am as a dead man, out of mind. Surely, if I was right, he would now arise to help me. But for my sins I am brought into this snare, and now God hath forgotten me.” “Not so, said _Hopeful_; but he trieth thy faith as with fire.”

Then I saw that _Christian_ was in a muse, and immediately _Hopeful_ said, “Be of good cheer; thy faith hath saved thee. Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.”

And with that _Christian_ broke out with a loud voice, “I see him, I see him again!” And he tells me, _When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee_. Then he presently found ground to stand on, and the rest of the water was but shallow, till they came to land. Upon the bank they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them; and as soon as they were come out of the water, they saluted them saying, _We are ministring spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation_. Thus they went along towards the gate. Now the city stood on a mighty hill, but the pilgrims went up the hill with ease, having left their mortal garments behind them in the river. Though therefore the foundation on which the city was built, was higher than the clouds, they mounted up with speed, through the regions of the air, flying as upon the wings of the wind.

The talk they had mean while with the shining ones was concerning the glory of the place. There, said they, with the innumerable company of angels, are the spirits of just men made perfect. There is the paradise of God, wherein you will see the _tree of life_, and eat of the fruits thereof. You shall be cloathed with light and immortality as with a garment. All tears will be wiped from your eyes, and you will know no more pain, or sorrow, or death; for the former things are past away. You are now going to _Abraham_, _Isaac_, and _Jacob_, to the patriarchs and prophets, to the righteous men of all ages, whom God in their generations _took away from the evil to come; and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness_.

They asked, and what are we to do when we are there? It was answered, “You are there to receive the comforts of all your toils that are past, and to have joy for all your sorrow. You are to reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers and tears, and works, and sufferings. And there you will enjoy the perpetual sight of the Holy One; yea, you shall _see him as he is_: and shall love, and praise, and serve him, and magnify his name all the days of eternity.”

“And when the Son of Man shall come in his glory, you shall come with him in the clouds of heaven; you shall sit with him in the seat of judgment, when he passeth sentence on all the workers of iniquity. Also, when he shall return to the throne of his Majesty on high, you shall go up too, with the sound of the trump, and drink of those rivers of pleasure, which flow at his right-hand for evermore.”

Now, while they were thus drawing near the gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them; to whom their conductors said, “These are the men that have loved our Lord while they were in the world, and that have left all for his sake; and we have brought them hither, that they may go and see their Redeemer’s face with joy.” Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, _Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb_.

They then compassed them round on every side, some having trumpets in their hands, and continually sounding as they went, and praising Him that liveth for ever and ever. In the mean time both their looks and gestures shewed how welcome _Christian_ and _Hopeful_ were.

Now when they were come up to the gate, they saw writ over it in letters of gold, _Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the city_.

Then the shining ones called to them within the gate, saying, “These are come from the city of _Destruction_, through the love they bear to our King.” They then gave in their certificates, which they had received at the beginning. These were carried to the King, who immediately sent, and commanded to open the gate, that _the righteous nation_, said he, _that keepeth the truth, may enter in_.

Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate, and lo! as they entered they were transfigured, and their raiment was glittering, and white as snow. There were also given to them golden harps, wherewith to praise him that sat upon the throne, and the Lamb that liveth for evermore. It was then said to them, _Well done, good and faithful servants, enter ye into the joy of your Lord_.

Just then _Ignorance_ came to the river-side, and got over with little difficulty: for one _Vain-hope_, a ferryman happening to be there, carried him over in his boat. So he ascended the hill, and coming up to the gate, immediately began to knock. He was asked by them that were within, “Whence do you come? and what would you have?” He answered, “I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he hath taught in our streets.” They asked again, “Have you any certificate?” But he answered never a word. So they told the King, who commanded, and they bound him hand and foot, and took him up and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw on the side of the hill, and cast him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven. So I awoke.

A Word of Advice to
SAINTS and SINNERS.

*1. A WORD of advice to my own heart and thine. Thou partakest of the ordinances of God. Thou dost well. But if thou hast not the blood of Christ at the root of all, they will prove but painted pageantry to go to hell in.

Try every day, on what bottom thy hope of glory is built, and whether it was laid by the hand of Christ. If not it will never be able to endure the storm that must come against it. Satan will throw it all down, and great will be the fall thereof.

*_Glorious professor!_ Thou shalt be winnowed; every vein of thy profession will be tried to the purpose: ’tis terrible to have it all come tumbling down, and to find nothing to bottom upon.

*_Soaring professor!_ See to thy waxen wings betimes; they will melt with the heat of temptations. What a misery is it, to trade much, and break at length; and to have no stock, no foundation laid for eternity!

*_Gifted professor!_ Look there be not a worm at the root that will spoil all thy fine gourd, and make it die about thee, in a day of scorching: look over thy soul daily, and ask, Where is the blood of Christ to be seen upon it? Many eminent professors have come at length to cry out, _Undone, undone to all eternity_!

2. Consider the greatest sins may be hid under the greatest duties. See the wound that sin hath made in thy soul be perfectly cured by the _blood of Christ_; not skinned over with duties, humblings, enlargements. Apply what thou wilt besides the _blood of Christ_, it will poison the sore. Thou wilt find that sin was never mortified truly; nothing can kill it but the beholding _Christ’s righteousness_.

Nature can afford no balsam fit for the cure of a soul. Healing from _duty_, and not from Christ, is the most desperate disease. Poor ragged nature, with all its highest improvements, can never spin a garment fine enough to cover the soul’s nakedness. Nothing is fit for that use, but _Christ’s perfect righteousness_.

Whatsoever is of nature’s putting on, Satan will come and plunder it, and leave the soul naked and open to the wrath of God. All that nature can do will never make up the least dram of grace that can mortify sin, or look Christ in the face one day.

3. Thou goest on hearing, praying, and receiving, yet miserable mayst thou be. Look about thee; didst thou ever see Christ to this day in distinction from all other excellencies and righteousness in the world, and all of them falling before the majesty of his love and grace!

*If thou hast seen Christ truly, thou hast seen pure grace, pure righteousness, far exceeding all sin and misery. If thou hast seen Christ, thou wouldst not do a duty without him for ten thousand worlds. If ever thou sawest Christ, thou sawest him a _rock_, higher than Satan or sin; and this _rock_ doth follow thee, and there will be a continual dropping of honey and grace out of it to satisfy thee. Examine, if ever thou hast beheld Christ as _the only begotten of the Father_, full of grace and truth. Be _sure_ thou art come to Christ, that thou standest upon _the rock of ages_, hast answered to his call to _thy_ soul, hast closed with him for justification.

*4. Men _talk_ bravely of believing; but few _know_ it. Christ is the mystery of the scripture. Grace the mystery of Christ. Believing is the most wonderful thing in the world. Put any thing of thine own to it, and thou spoilest it; Christ will not so much as look at it for believing. When thou comest to Christ, thou must leave behind thee thy _own_ righteousness, and bring nothing but thy _sin_. (Oh that is hard!) Leave behind all thy holiness, and bring nothing but thy _wants_ and _miseries_, else Christ is not fit for thee, nor thou for Christ. Christ will be a pure Redeemer, and thou must be an _undone_ sinner, or Christ and thou will never agree. It’s the hardest thing in the world to take Christ _alone_ for righteousness: that’s to acknowledge him Christ. Join any thing to him of _thy own_, and thou _un-Christ’s_ him.

Whatever comes in when thou goest to God for acceptance, (besides Christ) call it _anti-christ_; bid it be gone; make only Christ’s righteousness triumphant; all besides that, is _Babylon_, which must fall if Christ stand; and thou shalt rejoice in the day of the fall thereof. Christ _alone_ did tread the wine-press, and there was none with him. If thou join any thing to Christ, Christ will trample upon it in fury and anger, and stain his raiment with the blood thereof. Thou thinkest it easy to _believe_: was ever thy faith tried with a thorough sight of sin? Was it ever put to grapple with Satan, and the wrath of God lying upon the conscience? When thou wast in the mouth of hell, then did God shew thee Christ a ransom? If then thou couldst say, _Oh I see grace enough in Christ_! Thou mayst say that which is the biggest word in the world, _thou believest_; but untried faith is uncertain faith.

*5. To believing, there must go a clear conviction of sin, and the merits of the _blood of Christ_, and of Christ’s willingness to save upon this consideration merely, _that thou art a sinner_: things all harder than to make a world. All the power in nature cannot get up so high, in a storm of sin and guilt, as really to believe there is any willingness in Christ to save. When Satan chargeth sin upon the conscience, then to charge it upon _Christ_, that is gospel like. That is to make him Christ, he serves for that use. To accept his _blood alone_ for salvation, that is the sum of the gospel. When the soul, in all duties and distresses, can say, nothing but Christ for justification, sanctification, redemption; not humblings, not duties, not graces, that soul hath got above the reach of the billows.

All Satan’s advantages are laid in _self-righteousness_. God pursueth this by setting Satan upon thee; this must be torn from thee; this alone hinders Christ from coming in; and till Christ come in, guilt will not go out; and where guilt is, there is hardness of heart.

6. When guilt is raised up, take heed of getting it allay’d any way but by Christ’s _blood_. Make Christ thy peace, not thy duties, thy tears: Christ thy righteousness, not thy graces. Look at Christ and do as much as thou wilt. Stand with all thy weight upon Christ’s righteousness; take heed of having one foot on thy _own_ righteousness, another on Christ’s. Till Christ come and sit on high upon a throne of grace, there is nothing but guilt and terror, the soul hanging between hope and fear, which is an un-gospel state.

He that fears to see the utmost hell of his own heart, suspects the merit of Christ. Be thou never such a sinner, try Jesus Christ _the righteous_. In all doubtings, fears, storms of conscience, look at Christ continually. Do not argue with Satan (he desires no better) bid him go to Christ, and he will answer him; it is his office to be our advocate, his office to answer justice, and he is sworn to that office. Put Christ upon it. If thou wilt do any thing thyself, as to satisfaction for sin, thou renouncest Christ the righteous.

*7. Satan may alledge scripture, but he cannot answer scripture. It is Christ’s word of mighty authority; Christ foiled Satan with it. In all the scripture there is not an ill word against a _poor_ sinner, stript of his _own_ righteousness. Nay, it plainly points out this man for the grace of the gospel, and none else. Believe but Christ’s willingness, and that will make _thee_ willing. If thou find thou canst not believe; remember it is Christ’s work to make thee believe. Put him upon it. He works to will and to do. Mourn for thy unbelief, which is setting up guilt above Christ; an undervaluing the merits of Christ, accounting his _blood_ an unholy, a common, and unsanctifying thing.

Thou complainest much of thyself. Doth thy sin make thee look more at Christ; less at thyself? That is right; else complaining is but hypocrisy. To be looking at duties and graces, when thou shouldest be looking at Christ, that is pitiful: looking at them will but make thee proud; looking at Christ will make thee humble. In all thy temptations, be not discouraged. Those surges may be (not to break thee, but) to heave thee off thyself, on the rock Christ.

Thou mayst be brought low, even to the brink of hell, ready to tumble in; thou canst not be brought lower than the belly of hell, yet there thou mayst look towards the holy temple. Into the _old_ temple none might enter but purified ones, and with an offering too. But now Christ is our temple, to whom none must come but _sinners_, and that without any offering, but his _own blood_ once offered.

8. Thou thinkest, oh, what a monument of grace should I be! There are many thousands as rich monuments as thou. The greatest sinner did never pass the grace of Christ. When the clouds are blackest, then look towards Christ, the standing pillar of the Father’s love. His blood speaks reconciliation, redemption, liberty, nighness to God. Not a drop of his blood shall be lost. Stand and hearken what God will say, for he will speak peace to his people, that they return no more to folly. He speaks grace, mercy, and peace. That is the language of the Father and of Christ. Wait for Christ’s appearing, as the morning star. He shall come as certain as the morning, as refreshing as the rain.

*The sun may as well be hindered from rising, as Christ the Son of righteousness. Look not a moment off Christ. Look not upon sin, but look upon Christ also. In every duty look at Christ, before duty, to pardon; in duty, to assist; after duty, to accept. Without this it is but carnal, careless duty. Let sin break thy heart, but not thy hope in the gospel.

9. If thou hast looked at works, duties, qualifications, more than at the merits of Christ, it will cost thee dear. No wonder thou goest complaining; graces may be evidences, but the merits of Christ must be the foundation of thy hope.

When we come to God, we must bring nothing but Christ with us. Any ingredients of our own, will poison faith. He that builds upon duties or graces, knows not the merits of Christ. This makes believing so hard, so far above nature; if thou believest, thou must every day renounce thy obedience, thy sanctification, thy duties, thy graces, and nothing but Christ must be held up. Thou must take from God’s hand. Christ is the gift of God. Faith is the gift of God. Pardon a free gift. Ah, how nature storms, frets, rageth at this, that all is of _gift_, and it can purchase nothing with tears and duties; that all its workings are excluded, and of no value in heaven!

Consider, didst thou ever yet see the merits of Christ, and the infinite satisfaction made by his death? Didst thou see this when the burthen of sin and the wrath of God lay heavy on thy conscience? That is grace. The greatness of Christ’s merit is not known but to a poor soul at the greatest loss. *Slight convictions will but have slight prizings of Christ’s blood and merits.

*10. _Despairing sinner!_ Thou lookest on thy right hand and on thy left, saying, _Who will shew us any good_? Look at Christ and be saved, all ye ends of the earth. There is none else. He is a Saviour, and there is none besides him. Look any where else, and thou art undone. God will look at nothing but Christ, and _thou_ must look at nothing else. Christ is lifted up on high (as the brazen serpent in the wilderness) that sinners at the ends of the earth, at the greatest distance may see him. The least sight of him will be saving, the least touch healing to thee; and God intends thou shouldst look on him, for he hath set him on a high throne of glory, in the open view of all poor sinners. Thou hast infinite reason to look on him. For he will bear thy burdens; he will forgive, not only till seven times, but seventy times seven. It put the faith of the apostle to it to believe this, _Luke_ xvii. 4, 5. because _we_ are ♦hard to forgive, we think Christ is hard.

♦ “heard” replaced with “hard”

11. Hear what he said, _I have found a ransom. In him I am well pleased._ God will have nothing else; nothing else will do thee good, or satisfy conscience but Christ, who satisfied the Father. God doth all upon the account of Christ. Thy deserts are hell, wrath, rejection. Christ’s deserts are life and pardon. He will not only _shew_ thee the one, but he will give thee the other. It is Christ’s own glory and happiness to pardon. Consider, while Christ was upon earth, he was more among Publicans and Sinners than among _Scribes_ and _Pharisees_: and he hath the same love now in heaven; he is God and changeth not. He went through all temptations, sorrows, desertions; and hath drank the bitterest of the cup, and left thee the sweet; the condemnation is out. Christ drank up all the Father’s wrath at one draught; and nothing but salvation is left for thee. Thou sayst thou canst not believe, thou canst not repent: fitter for Christ, if thou hast nothing but sin and misery. Go to Christ with all thy impenitency and unbelief, to get faith and repentance; that is glorious. Tell Christ, _Lord, I have brought no righteousness, no grace to be justified by; I am come for thine, and must have it_. We would be bringing to Christ, and that must not be; not a penny of nature’s highest improvements will pass in heaven.

12. To say in compliment, _I am a sinner_, is easy; but to pray with the Publican indeed, _Lord, be merciful to me a sinner_, is the hardest prayer in the world. It is easy to say, _I believe in Christ_; but not to see him full of grace and truth, _of whole fullness thou mayst receive grace for grace_. It is easy to profess Christ with the mouth; but to confess him with the heart, that is above flesh and blood. Many call Christ _Saviour_; few know him so. To see grace and salvation in Christ is the greatest sight in the world; none can do that, but at the same time they shall see that glory and salvation are theirs. I may be ashamed to think that to this day I have known so little of the blood of Christ, which is the main thing of the gospel. A christless, formal profession is the blackest sight next to hell. Thou mayst have many good things, and yet one thing may be wanting, that may make thee go away sorrowful from Christ. Thou hast never sold all thou hast, never parted with _all_ thine own righteousness. Thou mayst be high in duty, and yet a perfect adversary to Christ. In every prayer, in every ordinance, labour after sanctification to thy utmost; but make not a Christ of it to save thee; if so, it must come down one way or other. Christ’s infinite satisfaction, not thy sanctification, must be justification before God. When the Lord shall appear terrible out of his holy place, fire shall consume that as hay and stubble. This will be sound religion, only to bottom all upon the everlasting mountains of God’s love and grace in Christ, to live continually in the sight of Christ’s infinite merits (they are sanctifying, without them the heart is carnal) and in those sights to see the full vileness of sin, and to see all pardoned; in those sights to pray and hear, seeing all thy weak performances accepted continually, to trample upon all thy own righteousness, and be found continually in the righteousness of Christ only. Without the blood of Christ on the conscience, all is dead service.