Then I slept, and dreamt once more, and saw Christian and Hopeful go down near the foot of these hills, where lies the land of Conceit, which joins the way to Mount Zion, by a small lane. Here they met a brisk lad, whose name was Ignorance, to whom Christian said: Whence come you, and to what place do you go?
Ignorance.—Sir, I was born in the land that lies off there on the left, and I wish to go to The Celestial City.
Christian.—How do you think to get in at the gate?
Ignorance.—Just as the rest of the world do.
Christian.—But what have you to show at that gate to pass you through it?
Ignorance.—I know my Lord's will, and I have led a good life; I pay for all that I have, I give tithes, and give alms, and have left my own land for that to which I now go.
Christian.—But you came not in at the gate that is at the head of this way, you came in through a small lane; so that I fear, though you may think well of all you have done, that when the time shall come, you will have this laid to your charge, that you are a thief and so you will not get in.
Ignorance.—Well, since I know you not; you keep to your own creed, and I will keep to mine, and I hope all will be well. And as for the gate that you talk of, all the world knows that it is far from our land, and I do not think that there is a man in all our parts who does so much as know the way to it, and I see not what need there is that he should, since we have, as you see, a fine green lane at the next turn that comes down from our part of the world.
Christian said in a low tone of voice to Hopeful: There is more hope of a fool than of him.
Hopeful.—Let us pass on if you will, and talk to him by and by, when, may be, he can bear it.