calling, when, passing along the street, he noticed a few poor women sitting in a doorway, and talking together.  He drew near to listen to their discourse.  It surprised him; for though he had by this time become a great talker on sacred subjects, their themes were far beyond his reach.  God’s work in their souls, the views they had obtained of their natural misery and of God’s love in Christ Jesus, what words and promises had particularly refreshed them and strengthened them against the temptations of Satan; it was of matters so personal and vital that they spake to one another.  “And methough they spake as if you had made them speak; they spoke with such pleasantness of Scripture language, and with such appearance of grace in all they said, that they were to me as if they had found a new world—as if they were ‘people that dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned among their neighbours!’”

The conversation of these poor people made a deep impression on Bunyan’s mind.  He saw that there was something in real religion into which he had not yet penetrated.  He sought the society of these humble instructors, and learned from them much that he had not known before.  He began to read the Bible with new avidity; and that portion which had formerly been most distasteful, the Epistles of Paul, now became the subject of his special study.  A sect of Antinomians, who boasted that they could do whatsoever they pleased without sinning, now fell in his way.  Professors of religion were rapidly embracing their opinions, and there was something in their wild fervour and apparent raptures, prepossessing to the ardent mind of Bunyan.  He read their books, and pondered their principles; but prefaced his examination with the simple prayer,—“O Lord, I am a fool, and not able to know the truths from error.  Lord, leave me not to my own blindness.  If this doctrine be of God, let me not despise it; if it be of the devil, let me not embrace it.  Lord, in this matter I lay my soul only at thy foot: let me not be deceived, I humbly beseech thee.”  His prayer was heard, and he was saved from this snare of the devil.

The object to which the eye of an inquiring sinner should be turned, is Christ—the finished work and the sufficient Saviour.  But, in point of fact, the chief stress of the more evangelical instruction has usually been laid on Faith—on that act of the mind which unites the soul to the Saviour, and makes salvation personal; and it is only by studying faiths that many have come at last to an indirect and circuitous acquaintance with Christ.  By some such misdirection Bunyan was misled.  In quest of faith he went a long and joyless journey, and was wearied with the greatness of his way.  It was secretly urged upon his mind, that if he had faith he would be able to work miracles; and passages of Scripture were borne in upon his mind, which bespoke the omnipotence of faith.  One day, on the road from Elstow to Bedford, it was suggested to his mind to try some miracle, and that miracle should be, “to say to the puddles which were in the horse-pads, ‘Be dry,’ and to the dry places, ‘Be you puddles.’”  However, before doing this, he thought he should go over the hedge and pray for faith, and then come and speak the word.  “But what if, after you have prayed and tried to do it, nothing happens?”  The dread of this alternative made him postpone the anxious experiment, and left him still in doubt.

Then he had a sort of waking vision, suggested by what he had seen in his pious friends at Bedford.  “I saw as if they were on the sunny side of some high mountain, there refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams of the sun, while I was shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark clouds.  Methought also, betwixt me and them, I saw a wall that did compass about this mountain; now through this wall my soul did greatly desire to pass, concluding that if I could, I would even go into the very midst of them, and there also comfort myself with the heat of their sun.  About this wall I thought myself to go again and again, still prying as I went, to see if I could find some gap or passage to enter therein.  But none could I find for some time.  At the last I saw, as it were, a narrow gap, like a little doorway in the wall, through which I attempted to pass.  Now, the passage being very strait and narrow, I made many offers to get in, but all in vain, even until I was wellnigh quite beat out, by striving to get in.  At last, with great striving, methought I at first did get in my head, and after that, by a sideling striving, my shoulders and my whole body. [9]  Then was I exceeding glad; went and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted with the light and heat of their sun.  Now, this mountain and wall were thus made out to me: The mountain signified the church of the living God; the sun that shone thereon, the comfortable shining of his merciful face on them that were therein: the wall, I thought, was the world, that did make separation between the Christians and the world; and the gap which was in the wall, I thought was Jesus Christ, who is the way to God the Father.  But forasmuch as the passage was wonderful narrow, even so narrow that I could not, but with great difficulty, enter in thereat, it shewed me that none could enter into life but those that were in downright earnest, and unless they left that wicked world behind them; for here was only room for body and soul, but not for body and soul and sin.”  The dream did him good, for, though it brought him no absolute assurance, it inspirited his efforts after it.

There is scarcely a fear which can assail an inquiring spirit which did not at some stage of his progress arrest the mind of Bunyan.  At one time he was afflicted by an erroneous view of the doctrine of election.  Looking at them from the outer and under side, those purposes of everlasting love which secure their safety who have already got within the precincts of salvation, appeared bristling and forbidding—a frowning chevaux de frise, rather than a fence of protection and preservation.  And when somewhat relieved from this perplexity, he fell into another.  He feared that the day of grace was gone; and so impressed on his mind was this mournful conviction, that he could do little else than upbraid his own infatuation for allowing the one propitious season to pass for ever away.  But the words, “Compel them to come in, that my house may be filled;” and those others, “And yet there is room,” brought him relief.  Then, again, he saw that the call of Christ was needful to make a man a disciple; and he feared that he should never get that call.  “But oh! how I now loved those words that spake of a Christian’s calling as when the Lord said to one, Follow me; and to another, Come after me: and oh! thought I, that he would say so to me too: how gladly would I run after him!  How lovely now was every one in my eyes, that I thought to be converted, whether man or woman!  They shone, they walked like a people that carried the broad seal of heaven upon them.  Oh! I saw the lot was fallen to them in pleasant places, and they had a goodly heritage.  But that which made me sick, was that of Christ,—‘He went up into a mountain, and called to him whom he would, and they came unto him.’  This Scripture made me faint and fear, yet it kindled fire in my soul.  That which made me fear was this: lest Christ should have no liking to me, for he called whom he would.  But oh! the glory that I saw in that condition did still so engage my heart, that I could seldom read of any that Christ did call but I presently wished, ‘Would I had been in their clothes! would I had been born Peter! would I had been born John! or, would I had been bye, and had heard him when he