Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful,
as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is
Talkative, walking at a distance beside them; for in this
place there was room enough for them all to walk. He was a tall
man, and something more comely at a distance than at hand. To
this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner: 

FAITH. Friend, whither away? Are you going to the heavenly
country?

Talk. I am going to the same place.

FAITH. That is well; then I hope we may have your good company.

Talk. With a very good will will I be your companion.

FAITH. Come on, then, and let us go together, and let us spend
our time in discoursing of things that are profitable.

Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable,
with you or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with
those that incline to so good a work; for, to speak the truth,
there are but few that care thus to spend their time (as they
are in their travels), but choose much rather to be speaking of
things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble for me.

FAITH. That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what things so
worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth as are
the things of the God of heaven?

Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are full of
conviction; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and what
so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What things so
pleasant (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are
wonderful)? For instance, if a man doth delight to talk of the
history or the mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk
of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things
recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy
Scripture?

FAITH. That is true; but to be profited by such things in our
talk should be that which we design.

Talk. That is it that I said; for to talk of such things is most
profitable; for by so doing, a man may get knowledge of many
things; as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of
things above. Thus, in general, but more particularly by this,
a man may learn the necessity of the new birth, the
insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness,
&c. Besides, by this a man may learn, by talk, what it is to
repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the like; by this
also a man may learn what are the great promises and
consolations of the gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this
a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the
truth, and also to instruct the ignorant.

FAITH. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from
you.

Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause why so few understand
the need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their
soul, in order to eternal life; but ignorantly live in the works
of the law, by which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of
heaven.

FAITH. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is the
gift of God; no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only
by the talk of them.

Talk. All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing,
except it be given him from Heaven; all is of grace, not of
works. I could give you a hundred scriptures for the
confirmation of this.

FAITH. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we
shall at this time found our discourse upon?

Talk. What you will. I will talk of things heavenly, or things
earthly; things moral, or things evangelical; things sacred, or
things profane; things past, or things to come; things foreign,
or things at home; things more essential, or things
circumstantial; provided that all be done to our profit.

FAITH. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to
Christian (for he walked all this while by himself), he said to
him, but softly, What a brave companion have we got? Surely
this man will make a very excellent pilgrim.

CHR. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with
whom you are so taken, will beguile, with that tongue of his,
twenty of them that know him not.

FAITH. Do you know him, then?

CHR. Know him! Yes, better than he knows himself.

FAITH. Pray, what is he?

CHR. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our town. I wonder
that you should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our
town is large.

FAITH. Whose son is he? And whereabout does he dwell?

CHR. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt in Prating Row;
and is known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name
of Talkative in Prating Row; and notwithstanding his fine
tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.

FAITH. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.

CHR. That is, to them who have not thorough acquaintance with
him; for he is best abroad; near home, he is ugly enough. Your
saying that he is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I have
observed in the work of the painter, whose pictures shew best at
a distance, but, very near, more unpleasing.

FAITH. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you
smiled.

CHR. God forbid that I should jest (although I smiled) in this
matter, or that I should accuse any falsely! I will give you a
further discovery of him. This man is for any company, and for
any talk; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is
on the ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the
more of these things he hath in his mouth; religion hath no
place in his heart, or house, or conversation; all he hath lieth
in his tongue, and his religion is, to make a noise therewith.

FAITH. Say you so! Then am I in this man greatly deceived.

CHR. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the proverb, They
say and do not. But the kingdom of God is not in word, but in
Power. He talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the
new birth; but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in
his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad; and
I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of
religion as the white of an egg is of savour. There is there
neither prayer nor sign of repentance for sin; yea, the brute in
his kind serves God far better than he. He is the very stain,
reproach, and shame of religion, to all that know him; it can
hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he
dwells, through him. Thus say the common people that know him,
A saint abroad, and a devil at home. His poor family finds it
so; he is such a churl, such a railer at and so unreasonable
with his servants, that they neither know how to do for or speak
to him. Men that have any dealings with him say it is better to 
deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealing they shall
have at their hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go
beyond them, defraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he
brings up his sons to follow his steps; and if he findeth in any
of them a foolish timorousness (for so he calls the first
appearance of a tender conscience), he calls them fools and
blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak
to their commendations before others. For my part, I am of
opinion, that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble
and fall; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more.

FAITH. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you; not only
because you say you know him, but also because, like a
Christian, you make your reports of men. For I cannot think that
you speak these things of ill-will, but because it is even so as
you say.

CHR. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have
thought of him, as, at the first, you did; yea, had he received
this report at their hands only that are enemies to religion, I
should have thought it had been a slander —— a lot that often
falls from bad men's mouths upon good men's names and
professions; but all these things, yea, and a great many more as
bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides,
good men are ashamed of him; they can neither call him brother,
nor friend; the very naming of him among them makes them blush,
if they know him.

FAITH. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and
hereafter I shall better observe this distinction.

CHR. They are two things, indeed, and are as diverse as are the
soul and the body; for as the body without the soul is but a
dead carcass, so saying, if it be alone, is but a dead carcass
also. The soul of religion is the practical part: Pure religion
and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this, To visit the
fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself
unspotted from the world. This Talkative is not aware of; he
thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and
thus he deceiveth his own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of
the seed; talking is not sufficient to prove that fruit is
indeed in the heart and life; and let us assure ourselves, that
at the day of doom men shall be judged according to their
fruits. It will not be said then, Did you believe? but, Were
you doers, or talkers only? and accordingly shall they be
judged. The end of the world is compared to our harvest; and
you know men at harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that
anything can be accepted that is not of faith, but I speak this
to shew you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will
be at that day.

FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he
describeth the beast that is clean. He is such a one that
parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud; not that parteth the hoof
only, or that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud,
but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. And this
truly resembleth Talkative; he cheweth the cud, he seeketh
knowledge, he cheweth upon the word; but he divideth not the
hoof, he parteth not with the way of sinners; but, as the hare,
he retaineth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore he is
unclean.

CHR. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel sense of
those texts. And I will add another thing: Paul calleth some
men, yea, and those great talkers, too, sounding brass and
tinkling cymbals; that is, as he expounds them in another place,
things without life, giving sound. Things without life, that is,
without the true faith and grace of the gospel; and
consequently, things that shall never be placed in the kingdom
of heaven among those that are the children of life; though
their sound, by their talk, be as if it were the tongue or voice
of an angel.

FAITH. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but I am
as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him?

CHR. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find
that he will soon be sick of your company too, except God shall
touch his heart, and turn it.

FAITH. What would you have me to do?

CHR. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about
the power of religion; and ask him plainly (when he has approved
of it, for that he will) whether this thing be set up in his
heart, house, or conversation.

FAITH. Then Faithful stepped forward again, 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.

FAITH. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you
left it with me to state the question, let it be this, How doth
the saving grace of God discover itself when it is in the heart
of man?

Talk. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about the power of
things. Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing
to answer you. And take my answer in brief, thus:  First, Where
the grace of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great
outcry against sin. Secondly, —— 

FAITH. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. I think you
should rather say, It shews itself by inclining the soul to
abhor its sin.

Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against,
and abhorring of sin?

FAITH. Oh, a great deal. A man may cry out against sin of
policy, but he cannot abhor it but by virtue of a godly
antipathy against it. I have heard many cry out against sin in
the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart,
house, and conversation. Joseph's mistress cried out with a
loud voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would
willingly, notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with
him. Some cry out against sin even as the mother cries out
against her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and
naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.

Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

FAITH. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. But what
is the second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a
work of grace in the heart?

Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries.

FAITH. This sign should have been first; but first or last, it
is also false; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained
in the mysteries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace in the
soul. Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing,
and so consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, Do you
know all these things? and the disciples had answered, Yes; he
addeth, Blessed are ye if ye do them. He doth not lay the
blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For
there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing: He that
knoweth his masters will, and doeth it not. A man may know like
an angel, and yet be no Christian, therefore your sign of it is
not true. Indeed, to know is a thing that pleaseth talkers and
boasters, but to do is that which pleaseth God. Not that the
heart can be good without knowledge; for without that, the heart
is naught. There is, therefore, knowledge and knowledge.
Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of things; and
knowledge that is accompanied with the grace of faith and love;
which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart:
the first of these will serve the talker; but without the other
the true Christian is not content. Give me understanding, and I
shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole
heart¹. [¹Psalm 119:34.]

Talk. You lie at the catch again; this is not for edification.

FAITH. Well, if you please, propound another sign how this work
of grace discovereth itself where it is.

Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree.

FAITH. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?

Talk. You may use your liberty.

FAITH. A work of grace in the soul discovereth itself, either to
him that hath it, or to standers by.

To him that hath it thus: It gives him conviction of sin,
especially of the defilement of his nature and the sin of
unbelief,  (for the sake of which he is sure to be damned, if he
findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Jesus Christ). This
sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for
sin; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the
world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life,
at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him; to
which hungerings, &c., the promise is made. Now, according to
the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his
joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to
know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But though
I say it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom
that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace;
because his corruptions now, and his abused reason, make his mind
to misjudge in this matter; therefore, in him that hath this work,
there is required a very sound judgment before he can, with
steadiness, conclude that this is a work of grace.

To others, it is thus discovered: 

1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ.

2. By a life answerable to that confession; to wit, a life of
holiness, heart-holiness, family-holiness (if he hath a
family), and by conversation-holiness in the world which, in the
general, teacheth him, inwardly, to abhor his sin, and himself
for that, in secret; to suppress it in his family and to promote
holiness in the world; not by talk only, as a hypocrite or
talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in faith
and love, to the power of the Word. And now, Sir, as to this
brief description of the work of grace, and also the discovery
of it, if you have aught to object, object; if not, then give me
leave to propound to you a second question.

Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear; let me,
therefore, have your second question.

FAITH. It is this: Do you experience this first part of this
description of it? and doth your life and conversation testify
the same? or standeth your religion in word or in tongue, and
not in deed and truth? Pray, if you incline to answer me in
this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen to;
and also nothing but what your conscience can justify you in;
for not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the
Lord commendeth. Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my
conversation, and all my neighbours, tell me I lie, is great
wickedness.

Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush; but, recovering
himself, thus he replied: You come now to experience, to
conscience, and God; and to appeal to him for justification of
what is spoken. This kind of discourse I did not expect; nor am
I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because I count
not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a
catechiser, and, though you should so do, yet I may refuse to
make you my judge. But, I pray, will you tell me why you ask me
such questions?

FAITH. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not
that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the
truth, I have heard of you, that you are a man whose religion
lies in talk, and that your conversation gives this your
mouth-profession the lie. They say, you are a spot among
Christians; and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly
conversation; that some have already stumbled at your wicked
ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby;
your religion, and an alehouse, and covetousness, and
uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain-company keeping,
&c., will stand together. The proverb is true of you which is
said of a whore, to wit, that she is a shame to all women; so
are you a shame to all professors.

Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports and to judge so
rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or
melancholy man, not fit to be discoursed with; and so adieu.

CHR. Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I told you
how it would happen: your words and his lusts could not agree; 
he had rather leave your company than reform his life. But he is
gone, as I said; let him go, the loss is no man's but his own;
he has saved us the trouble of going from him; for he continuing
(as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have been but a
blot in our company: besides, the apostle says, "From such
withdraw thyself."

FAITH. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him; it
may happen that he will think of it again: however, I have dealt
plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood, if he perisheth.

CHR. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did; there is
but little of this faithful dealing with men nowa-days, and that
makes religion to stink so in the nostrils of many, as it doth;
for they are these talkative fools whose religion is only in
word, and are debauched and vain in their conversation, that
(being so much admitted into the fellowship of the godly) do
puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere.
I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done: then
should they either be made more conformable to religion, or the
company of saints would be too hot for them. Then did Faithful
say:

      How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes!
      How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes
      To drive down all before him! But so soon
      As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon
      That's past the full, into the wane he goes.
      And so will all, but he that HEART-WORK knows.


Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and
so made that way easy which would otherwise, no doubt, have been
tedious to them; for now they went through a wilderness.

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