Afterward, in my dream, methought I saw Pilgrim
standing before the gate of the Narrow way soliciting admission.
Above its portals were inscribed, in large characters, the words, "KNOCK,
AND IT SHALL BE OPENED."
As he stood knocking, he observed near him two men, who
evidently purposed to be the companions of his journey. There was, however,
something about their manner and appearance very unlike what he would have
expected from those who were waiting for the opening of the gate. The one,
whose name was Procrastination, was lying on the grass, half asleep,
with his bundle and all its contents carelessly scattered around him. The
other, called Presumption, was seated at the foot of a tree, humming the
words of a song. At first Pilgrim hesitated whether he would address
them; but seeing no others with whom he could enter into converse, he
accosted them thus--
"You are intending travelers to Zion, good friends, I
presume?"
"We are," replied the strangers.
"Then it is probable we shall journey together,"
continued Pilgrim; "provided, that is, you have no objections I share
your company."
"That depends very much," said Procrastination,
elevating himself, "if your taste corresponds with ours. From our past
experience, there are few of the Narrow way travelers who feel
disposed to make our acquaintance; and, if I may judge from the way in which
you were just now knocking at the gate, there is no great likelihood you
will prove an exception."
"I suppose we are at one," replied Pilgrim, "in
our desire to escape as fast as possible from this place of danger, and get
inside the gate."
"True," said Procrastination; "it is my firm
purpose to be a Narrow way traveler, and at last to reach the New
Jerusalem; but I am not inclined to commence the journey too abruptly. I
have not recovered my former fatigues. Before leaving my present
resting-place, I must have 'a little more sleep, a little more slumber, a
little more folding of the hands to sleep.'"
"I would have you consider well, fellow-traveler,"
answered Pilgrim, assuming an earnest tone, "if it be safe to trifle
any more of that time away which is soon to come to an end. 'The night is
far spent, the day is at hand.' 'He that shall come will come, and will not
tarry.' If you resign yourself to slumber now, you may sleep the
sleep of death. It is surely time, no, 'it is high time to awake out of
sleep!'"
Procrastination made no reply--merely waving his hand
and muttering, "Go your way for this time; at a more convenient season I
will think on these things." He gradually sunk down, resumed the position
from which he had raised himself, folded his arms, and once more was steeped
in slumber.
"You need be under no apprehension of our safety," said
his companion Presumption, addressing Pilgrim; "we have placed
ourselves, as you see, close beside the gate. We are so near it that
we can enter at any time. I shall take care to keep watch for the coming of
the Herald of judgment; and there are but just a few paces between us and
safety."
"Take care," said Pilgrim, "that you be not
deceiving yourself. You seem to have little idea of your dreadful and
imminent peril. If you wait until the Avenger of Blood be in sight, before
the key be turned in the lock he may cut you down! Besides, by presuming on
the patience of the King of the Way, he may leave you to your fate,
and 'mock when your fear comes.'"
"Ah! but I know," replied Presumption, "that
Free Grace keeps the keys of the gate; and he never yet was known to
reject a traveler that applied for admission."
"Not, indeed," said Pilgrim, "a traveler who seeks
entrance there from love to the Lord Immanuel; but to one like
yourself, who desires merely to elude the Avenger's sword, and escape coming
wrath, I question if he would attend to your knockings." "Hark!" continued
he, as he heard the sound of footsteps from within, approaching the gate.
They were accompanied by a voice, exclaiming, "Behold, now is the
accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation!" The bolts were drawn
aside, and the bars unloosed. Pilgrim, with a heart throbbing with
joy, as he saw the door about to be opened, once more urged the two
indifferent travelers to cast in their lot with his; but they only repeated
their former reply.
Seeing remonstrance was in vain, he eagerly ran up to the
gate, exclaiming, "Whatever others do, as for me, I will serve the Lord!"
"Who stands without, knocking?" demanded a voice from
within.
"A poor traveler," replied Pilgrim, "who received
a warrant from the Lord Immanuel to apply at this gate for
admission."
"What is your name?" asked Free Grace, the keeper
of the gate.
"My hereditary name is Sinner," said the other;
"my surname, Pilgrim."
"What righteousness have you?"
"My righteousness," was the reply, "is as filthy rags."
"What plea, then," inquired the Keeper, "have you
to offer?"
"None," said Pilgrim, "but this, that I am
'wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:' but I have come
here 'to buy of you gold tried in the fire, that I may be rich; and white
clothing, that I may be clothed; and have my eyes, which are still scorched
with the glare of the pit, anointed with eye-salve, that I may see.' Be
pleased to 'open unto me this gate of righteousness', that I may enter into
it and be safe."
"This way was made," replied the Keeper, "and this
gate opened, just for such sinners as you. 'Come in, you weary, heavy-laden
one, and the Lord Immanuel will give you rest.'"
So saying, the gateway turned on its hinges, and
disclosed to Pilgrim an aged man, with a benignant and heavenly
expression.
"For six thousand years," said he, "have I stood at this
gate, and been authorized by the Lord of the Way to fling it open to
weary travelers; and he is as willing now to welcome them in as when first
it was opened. His love for sinners the lapse of ages cannot diminish. 'Come
in, you blessed of the Lord, wherefore stands you without?'"
Now I saw that he conducted Pilgrim within the
portico of the entrance. Immediately opposite the door of the lodge in which
Free Grace dwelt, was a lake or fountain of water, surrounded with
trees and shrubs crowned with verdure of surpassing beauty, and which were
reflected in many hues of loveliness on the calm surface. Immediately behind
rose a temple, on the pinnacle of which was a winged cherub, called
Gospel, with a trumpet in his hand; with which, at intervals, he sounded
the proclamation, "Ho! every one that thirsts, come you to the waters";
while a choir of youthful voices from below responded: "And the Spirit and
the bride say, Come. And let him that hears say, Come. And let him that is
athirst come. And whoever will, let him take of the water of life freely."
"Can this," inquired Pilgrim of Free Grace,
"be the fountain which, a little while ago, I heard celebrated in song by
some travelers to Zion?"
"It is," said the Keeper; "and before you advance
further on your journey, it will be needful for you to receive a suit of
white clothing, washed in its waters."
So saying, he assisted Pilgrim in tearing off the
remains of his ragged covering of self-righteousness. A robe of white linen,
which was steeping in the pool, he dried in the rays of the sun, and clothed
him in it.
Pilgrim stooped over the fountain, and seeing his
image reflected in it, he exclaimed, in a transport of holy joy, "I will
greatly rejoice in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he has
clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe
of righteousness!"