s deep truth under a shield of great names.
For their sakes let this sure truth of God's best saints lie in peace and
undisputed beside you till you arrive to understand it.

But, to proceed,--the thing was this. At this passage there comes down
from Broadway-gate a lane called Dead-Man's-lane, so called because of
the murders that are commonly done there. And this Little-Faith going on
pilgrimage, as we now do, chanced to sit down there and fell fast asleep.
Yes; the thing was this: This good man had never been what one would call
really awake. He was not a bad man, as men went in the town of Sincere,
but he always had a half-slept half-awakened look about his eyes, till
now, at this most unfortunate spot, he fell stone-dead asleep. You all
know, I shall suppose, what the apostle Paul and John Bunyan mean by
sleep, do you not? You all know, at any rate, to begin with, what sleep
means in the accident column of the morning papers. You all know what
sleep meant and what it involved and cost in the Thirsk signal-box the
other night. {1} When a man is asleep, he is as good as dead, and other
people are as good as dead to him. He is dead to duty, to danger, to
other people's lives, as well as to his own. He may be having pleasant
dreams, and may even be laughing aloud in his sleep, but that may only
make his awaking all the more hideous. He may awake just in time, or he
may awake just too late. Only, he is asleep and he neither knows nor
cares. Now, there is a sleep of the soul as well as of the body. And as
the soul is in worth, as the soul is in its life and in its death to the
body, so is its sleep. Many of you sitting there are quite as dead to
heaven and hell, to death and judgment, and to what a stake other people
as well as yourselves have in your sleep as that poor sleeper in the
signal-box was dead to what was coming rushing on him through the black
night. And as all his gnashing of teeth at himself, and all his sobs
before his judge and before the laid-out dead, and before distracted
widows and half-mad husbands did not bring back that fatal moment when he
fell asleep so sweetly, so will it be with you. Lazarus! come forth!
Wise and foolish virgins both: Behold the Bridegroom cometh! Awake, thou
that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light!

And, with that, Guilt with a great club that was in his hand struck
Little-Faith on the head, and with that blow felled him to the