great lessons which we need to learn from experience; our own weakness and Christ's strength they had gained new proofs of the efficacy of a Saviour's blood, as well as new views, and a deeper sense, of the dreadful evil of sin, and in every way they were wiser, though perhaps sadder men than before. It was almost worth those fearful days and nights in Giant Despair's Castle, to learn so much more both of themselves and of Christ; but this bringing good out of evil was God's doing, and not theirs; they had perished in their sins, had not God had mercy on them.

And now they use, as all pilgrims should do, their own bitter experience for good to others. They mean to keep others, if possible, from falling into the same snare with themselves, and so, as soon as they are got safe into the Lord's blessed highway, and out of their enemies' jurisdiction, they proceed to nail up that famous inscription, "Over this stile lies the way to Doubting Castle, kept by Giant Despair." They thought, forsooth, that no pilgrim after them, reading this inscription, would dare go out of the way. But by a strange blindness, which happens to the pilgrims whenever they are bent on self-indulgence, they are so taken with the Meadow, that they do not read the inscription, and so they pass over the same stile, just as if no person had ever tried it before, and just as if there were no Giant Despair's Castle. Before Christian and Hopeful passed by, there had been just such inscriptions, but the pilgrims did not heed them. King David himself, who spent so long time in the Castle, put up just such an inscription, near three thousand years ago, and Solomon, from bitter experience, renewed it after him; but Christian and Hopeful themselves did not read it. Nor do any read it, except the Lord enlighten their darkness, and make them vigilant at the very moment temptation comes upon them. For the time when they enter into temptation is the time when this inscription disappears, and when they are once entered in as in a cloud, they can hear nothing, see nothing, but the temptation itself, and so they fall, and are afterwards made wretched. May the Lord keep us from such dreadful experience! Oh what dread meaning there is in those warnings of Christ, Pray that ye enter not into temptation! Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation! Entering into temptation is a very different thing from being assailed by temptation; but in neither case can we conquer or be delivered except by Christ.

There is nothing which God does, that he does not do freely, and like a God. When he pardons our sins, it is to remember them no more for ever; when he restores to us the joy of his salvation, his face shines upon us with a beatifying love, as if we had never offended him. "Only return unto me, and I will return unto you, saith the Lord." So we no sooner find the pilgrims got out of the Castle of Giant Despair, and their inscription over the stile finished, but we meet them in sweet instructive company on the top of the Delectable Mountains. So great, so free, so abundant is God's goodness in Christ in the pardon of the penitent. Yet these mountains were not attained without climbing; none arrive at them but by much holy diligence in the pilgrimage; and Christian and Hopeful never walked more warily and prayerfully than now after their wonderful escape from the Castle of Giant Despair.

Here were gardens, orchards, vineyards, and fountains of living water, to reward their diligence and refresh their spirits. Here were Shepherds of Christ, appointed to feed and keep his flock on these mountains, precious, holy men, named Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere, who took the pilgrims by the hand, instructed them by their conversation, and led them about to show them the wonders of these mountains, just as the good Interpreter had shown them the rarities in his house. They were shown where many men were dashed in pieces by carelessly climbing the Hill of Error, and falling in the midst of its speculations. They were shown from the top of another mountain, called Caution, a number of blind men wandering and stumbling across tombs; and the Shepherds, little knowing or imagining the late fearful experience of the pilgrims in Doubting Castle, informed them that these were men who had had their eyes put out by Giant Despair, and were there by him thrown among these dark tombs; according to the saying of Scripture, "He that wandereth out of the way of understanding, shall remain in the congregation of the dead."

Oh, thought Christian and Hopeful, why were not we also left to such a dreadful fate! Who hath made us to differ? What mercy of God that he did not leave us also to be blinded and destroyed! They said not a word to the Shepherds, but looked on one another with a look that spoke volumes, and the tears gushed out. So, how many hairbreadth escapes have we all had amidst our sins, where others have stumbled and fallen

to rise no more! What thankfulness should the remembrance of these mercies excite in us!

The good Shepherds also took the pilgrims to the top of the Hill Clear, from whence they could, in a fine day, see the Celestial City, through the telescope which the Shepherds kept by them. This perspective glass is Faith, but the pilgrims have not always equal skill in using it. However, they managed to see something of the glory of the City; and that vision, imperfect though it was, was very ravishing to their spirits.

We journey in a vale of tears;
But often from on high

The glorious bow of God appears,

And lights up all our sky.

Then through the breaking clouds of heaven

Far distant visions come,

And sweetest words of grace are given,

To cheer the pilgrim home..

Then doubt and darkness flee away,
And shadows all are gone :-
Oh! if such moments would but stay,
This earth and heaven were one.
Too soon the vision is withdrawn ;
There's only left, "He saith ;"
And I, a lonely pilgrim, turn,
To live and walk by faith.

Yet e'en for glimpses such as these
My soul would cheerful bear
All that in darkest days it sees,

The toil, the pain, the care.

For through the conflict and the race,
Whatever grief my lot,

If Jesus shows his lovely face,

All troubles are forgot.

My quickened soul, in faith and love,

Mounts up on eagles' wings,

And at the City Gates above

Exulting sits and sings!

'Tis through thy sufferings, O my Lord,

I hope that world to see,

And through those gates, at thy sweet word,

To enter in to Thee!

After going through the conflict with Apollyon, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the scenes in Vanity Fair, and the dread experience of the pilgrims in Giant Despair's Castle, it is well to note what a Gallery of solemn REALITIES is here, what a system of Divine Truth, commending itself to all men's consciences. It is not so much the richness of imagination, nor the tenderness of feeling here exhibited, nor the sweetness and beauty of the imagery, with which this book is filled, as it is the presence of these REALITIES, that constitutes the secret of its unbounded power over the soul.

Walk up and down in this rich and solemn Gallery. How simple are its ornaments! How grave, yet beautiful, its architecture! Amidst all this deep, serene beauty to the imagination, by how much deeper a tone do these pictures speak to the inner spiritual being of the soul! When you have admired the visible beauty of the paintings, turn again to seek their meaning in that light from eternity by which the Artist painted them, and by which he would have all men examine their lessons, and receive and feel the full power of their colouring. In this light the walls of this Gallery seem moving with celestial figures speaking to the soul. They are acting the Drama of a Life which by most men is only dreamed of; but the Drama is the reality, and it is the spectators only who are walking in a vain show.

The Pilgrim's Progress shows an immortal being journeying in the light and under the transforming power of these realities. They are such ever-present truths, that you cannot read this work, without discovering them, any more than you could read aloud the pages of a book, without pronouncing its words; any more than one could travel through a magnificent city, and not behold its streets and palaces; any more than one could look at the rainbow without seeing its colours, or at the sun without beholding its light. It

is by the power of these truths that the Pilgrim's Progress, like the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, proves itself a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. The whole foundation on which the author of this work, which of all other books stands the nearest after the Bible to the overpowering light of eternity, has built the structure of its realities, is his view (taken from the Bible and the Spirit of God) of sin, of God, of Christ, of the eternal world, and of the relations of man, as a fallen being, to that world and to his Maker. The gloom in this book, if gloom it can be called, where the light of the Cross so irradiates it, arises from the immutable dread nature of sin, and not from any dark views of the Gospel. It is not a gloomy book; no man ever thought of bringing against it such an accusation; it is one of the most cheerful books in the language. And yet it is a solemn array of the realities of spiritual truth. The way of our pilgrimage is from gloom to grace and glory; gloom at first, but afterwards glory everlasting; but they who will reject the element of gloom from their theology in this world are not likely to have the element of glory spring from it hereafter.

LECTURE XIII.

THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS

AND ENCHANTED GROUND

WITH THE CHARACTERS OF IGNORANCE AND LITTLE-FAITH.

View of the Celestial City. The importance of such visions on our pilgrimage.-Character of Ignorance. -False views of Justification.-Denial of the doctrine of Justification by Faith.-Salvation by our own merits in any way impossible.-Christ, a whole Saviour or none at all. To say that a man is saved by his works is just the same as to say that he is saved by his sins.-Character of Little-Faith.-The Enchanted Ground and the Flatterer. The delusions of self-righteousness.-The religious experience of Hopeful. The renewed heart a mirror of Divine Truth.

On the Delectable Mountains, the pilgrims had a sight of the Celestial City. No matter if it was but a glimpse, still they saw it, they really saw it, and the remembrance of that sight never left them. There it was in glory! Their hands trembled, their eyes were dim with tears, but still that vision was not to be mistaken. There, through the rifted clouds for a moment, the gates of pearl were shining, the jasper walls, the endless domes, the jewelled battlements! The splendour of the city seemed to pour, like a river of light, down upon the spot where they were standing. We may adopt the imagery of the poet Wordsworth, attempting to convey the idea of a material vision which he beheld in the clouds after a storm, in order to shadow forth something of that glory which might have been seen from the summit of the Delectable Mountains.

Glory beyond all glory ever seen

By waking sense, or by the dreaming soul!
The appearance, instantaneously disclosed,
Was of a Mighty City,-boldly say
A wilderness of building, sinking far,
And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth,
Far sinking into splendour without end!
Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold,
With alabaster domes and silver spires,
And blazing terrace upon terrace, high
Uplifted: here, serene pavilions bright,
In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt
With battlements, that on their restless fronts
Bore stars,-illumination of all gems!

Now this sight did ravish the hearts of the pilgrims, though they could not look steadily through the glass. Sometimes this vision is revealed to pilgrims much more clearly than at other times; but no language can describe the glory of the vision, whenever and however it is manifested to the soul; for eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But God reveals them by his Spirit, and sometimes doubtless with such a revelation as language cannot compass.

Much depends upon the weather in our soul's horizon. Sometimes, even when ascending the Delectable Mountains, the pilgrims are enveloped in joy all the way up. They climb, and turn to see the prospect, but can see nothing; it is like ascending the Alps on a misty day. But still they climb. And now, all unexpectedly and suddenly,

they rise out of the cloud and beyond it;-the sun is shining, the mountains are flashing like pure alabaster ;-they seem to have angels' wings, they come to the Hill Clear, the Celestial City breaks upon them. Ah, how glorious, how merciful is such a vision ! Worth all the climbing, all the fatigue, all the mist, rain, and darkness. Now the soul can go on its way rejoicing; now it can say to Atheist, What? No Celestial City? Did I not see it from the Delectable Mountains? Shall not my soul remember thee, O God, and the sweet glimpses of thy glory which thou hast caused to pass before me? Yea, my soul followeth hard after Thee, and thy right hand upholdeth me; and as long as I live will I praise the Lord for his goodness, and pant for his abode.

Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Name ever dear to me!

Such glimpses of Heaven, though they be but glimpses, are inexpressibly blessed and sustaining in our pilgrimage. They help to wean the affections from earth, they strengthen us against temptations, they make us see in the most striking light, the emptiness and vanity of the things of the world, and the folly and sinfulness of the love of the world; they make us feel, while confined to the world, what shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue; they make trials also seem very small and transitory, and easy to be borne. Moreover, they quicken the heart after God; for the renewed heart well knows that God is the glory of that City," for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it; and it has no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it; for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." When the heart is filled and purified with such desires after heaven, as in Paul's case, then it doth desire to depart and to be with Christ; it would lay by these garments of mortality, that it may put on Christ, and be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven. Sometimes, when God, by his grace, puts the heart in such a holy frame, discloses so much of himself in Christ to it, every day is counted, as it passes, for joy, as a step nearer heaven; so that Death seems no longer the King of Terrors, but the Angel of a Father's love and the day when he comes is the Christian's BIRTH-DAY OF ETERNITY. So Time itself, the most fleeting of all things, seems sometimes long, because it separates the soul from the Saviour!

;

O how desirable is such a frame! But the pilgrims are not always in it; so Christian and Hopeful must go down from the Delectable Mountains, and be on the common way of their pilgrimage; for these happy experiences and visions of heaven are given, as I said, not to constitute our rest, but to make us long after it, to make us willing to endure hardships as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. The Crown of Life is after Death, and no man can be crowned, till, through Christ, he has gained the victory. The Lord, in mercy, grant us that grace, that we, through him, may gain that victory, being made faithful unto death!

The pilgrims must go on, and though they have been where they could see the Celestial City, yet there are dangers and labours still to go through, and no chariot, nor bright cloud, nor way through the air, to convey them insensibly, or without fatigue to heaven. So they bade the kind Shepherds a loving farewell. Methinks, after all their past experiences and visions, they breathed, as they went, the very spirit of those sweet verses of Baxter, in which he poured forth, with such simplicity, the breathings of his soul after heaven, and the quiet spirit of resignation to God's will.

Lord, it belongs not to my care,
Whether I die or live;

To love and serve thee is my share,
And this thy grace must give.

If life be long, I will be glad,

That I may long obey:

If short, yet why should I be sad,
That shall have the same pay?