More than this, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful saw a man whose name is Talkative, walk some way off by the side of them: for in this place there was full room for them all to walk. To this man Faithful spoke in such wise:

"Friend, to what place dost thou go? dost thou go to the blest land?"

Talk.—"I am bound to that same place."

Fai.—"Come on then, and let us go side by side, and let us spend our time well, by wise speech that tends to use."

Talk.—"To talk of things that are good, I like much, with you or with some one else. For, to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend their time, as they are on their way."

Fai.—"That is, in sooth, a thing to mourn; for what thing so meet for the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the great God on high?"

Talk.—"I like you right well, for what you say is full of force; and, I will add, what thing doth so please or what brings such a boon as to talk of the things of God?"

Fai.—"That is true; but to gain good by such things in our talk, should be that which we seek."

Talk.—"That is it that I said; for to talk of such things is of great use: for by this means a man may get to know a fair share of things; as how vain are the things of earth; and how good are the things that fail not. Then, by this, a man may learn by talk what it is to mourn for sin, to have faith, to pray, to bear grief, or the like. By this, too, a man may learn what it is that soothes, and what are the high hopes set forth in the Word of the Grace of God; to his own peace."

"Well, then," said Faithful, "what is that one thing that we shall at this time found our speech on?"

Talk.—"What you will: I will talk of things not of earth, or of things of earth; things of life, or things of grace; things pure, or things of the world; so that we but gain good by it."

Now did Faithful think this strange; so he came up to Christian, and said to him in a soft voice, "What a brave friend have we got! Of a truth, this man will do well in the way."

At this Christian gave a meek smile, and said, "This man, whom you so take to, will cheat with this tongue of his a score of them that know him not."

Fai.—"Do you know him then?"

Chr.—"Know him! Yes; his name is Talkative; he dwells in our town. I wist not how you should be strange to him."

Fai.—"Well, he seems to be a man of good looks."

Chr.—"That is, to them that know him not through and through: for he is best out of doors; near home his looks are as bad as you could find."

Fai.—"But I fain think you do but jest, as I saw you smile."

Chr.—"God grant not that I should jest in this case, or that I should speak false of one. I will let you see him in a clear light. This man cares not with whom he picks up, or how he talks: as he talks now with you, so will he talk when he is on the bench, with ale by his side; and the more drink he has in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth."

Fai.—"Say you so? then am I wrong in my thoughts of this man."

Chr.—"Wrong! You may be sure of it. He talks of what it is to pray; to mourn for sin; of faith, and of the new birth; but he knows but how to talk of them. I have been in his home, and have seen him both in and out of doors, and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as void of the fear of God as the white of an egg is of taste. They pray not there, nor is there a sign of grief for sin: yea, the brute, in his kind, serves God more than he."

Fai.—"Well, my friend, I am bound to trust you; not for that you say you know him, but in like way, for that, like one who has the mind of Christ, you judge of men."

Chr.—"Had I known him no more than you I might, it may be, have thought of him as at the first you did; but all these things, yea, and much more as bad, which I do bring to mind, I can prove him to have the guilt of."

Fai.—"Well, I see that to say and to do are two things; and by and by I shall take more note of this."

Chr.—"They are two things, in sooth, and are no more like than are the soul and flesh; for, as the flesh void of the soul is but a dead lump: so to say, if it stand loose, is but a dead lump too. This Talkative does not know. He thinks that to hear and to say will make a good man, and thus he cheats his own soul. To hear is but to sow the seed; to talk is not full proof that fruit is deep in the heart and life; and let us feel sure that at the day of doom men shall reap just as they have sown. It will not be said then, 'Did you have faith?' but 'Did you do or talk?' when they shall have their due meed."

Fai.—"Well, I was not so fond to be with him at first, but am as sick of him now. What shall we do to be rid of him?"

Chr.—"Be led by me, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of you, too, save God shall touch his heart and turn it."

Fai.—"What would you have me to do?"

Chr.—"Why, go to him, and take up some grave theme on the might of faith."

Then Faithful gave a step forth once more, and said to Talkative, "Come, what cheer? how is it now?"

Talk.—"Thank you, well; I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time."

Fai.—"Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it with me to state the theme, let it be this: How doth the grace of God that saves, show forth signs when it is in the heart of man?"

Talk.—"I see, then, that our talk must be of the might of things. Well, it is a right good theme, and I shall try to speak on it; and take what I say in brief, thus: First, where the grace of God is in the heart it makes one cry out on sin. In the next place——"

Fai.—"Nay, hold; let us dwell on one at once: I think you should say in lieu of this, it shows by the way in which the soul loathes its sin. A man may cry out on sin to aid his own ends, but he fails to loathe it, save God makes him do so. Some cry out on sin, just as the dame doth cry out on her child in her lap, when she calls it bad girl, and then falls to hug and kiss it."

Talk.—"You lie at the catch, I see."

Fai.—"No, not I; I but try to set things right. But what is the next thing by which you would prove to make known the work of grace in the heart?"

Talk.—"To know much of the deep things of God."

Fai.—"This sign should have been first; but, first or last, it too is false: for to know, and know well, the deep things in God's Word, may still be, and yet no work of grace in the soul. Yea, if a man know all things he may yet be naught; and so, for this cause, be no child of God. When Christ said, 'Do you know all these things?' and those who heard him said, 'Yes'; he did add, 'Blest are ye if ye do them.' He doth not lay the grace in that one knows, but in that one does them."

Talk.—"You lie at the catch, once more: this is not for good."

Fai.—"Well, if you please, give one more sign how this work of grace doth show where it is."

Talk.—"Not I, for I see we shall not be of one mind."

Fai.—"Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?"

Talk.—"You may do just as you like."

Fai.—"A work of grace in the soul doth show quite clear to him that hath it or to those that stand by. To him that hath it, thus: it gives him a deep sense of sin, of the ill that dwells in him. This sight and sense of things work in him grief and shame for sin; he finds, too, brought to view the Saviour of the world, and he feels he must close with him for life; at the which he finds he craves and thirsts for a pure life, pure at heart, pure with his kin, and pure in speech in the world: which in the broad sense doth teach him in his heart to hate his sin, to spurn it from his home, and to shed his light in the world; not by mere talk, as a false knave, or one with a glib tongue, may do, but by the force of faith and love to the might of the Word. And now, sir, as to these brief thoughts on the work of grace, if you have aught to say, say on; if not, then give me leave to ask one thing more of you."

Talk.—"Nay, my part is not now to say aught, but to hear; let me hence hear what you have got to speak."

Fai.—"It is this: do you in your heart feel this first part of what I said of it? and doth your life and walk bear proof of the same?"

Then Talkative at first did blush, but when he got through this phase, thus he said: "You come now to what one feels in his heart, to the soul, and God. But I pray, will you tell me why you ask me such things?"

Fai.—"For that I saw you prone to talk, and for that I knew not that you had aught else but vague views. More than this, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of you that you are a man whose faith lies in talk, and that what you do gives the lie to what you say."

Talk.—"Since you are so quick to take up tales, and to judge in so rash a way as you do, I would lief think that you are some cross or dull mope of a man, not fit to hold talk with; and so, I take my leave."

Then came up Christian, and said to his friend, "I told you how it would hap; your words and his lusts could not suit. He thought it best to leave you, than change his life."

Fai.—"But I am glad we had this brief talk; it may hap that he will think of it some time."

Chr.—"You did well to talk so plain to him as you did; there is not much of this straight course with men in these days. I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done: then should they have to change their ways, or the guild of saints would be too hot for them."

Thus they went on and told of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way light which would, were not this the case, no doubt have been slow to them; for now they went through a wild.