Job 33:14-17
God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed; Then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their instruction, That he may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride from man.
MATTHEW POOLE (1624-1679): The dreams of men are not such insignificant things as many imagine.
CHARLES SIMEON (1759-1836): We are far from recommending any one to trust in dreams, or to pay any attention to them whatever, for “in the multitude of dreams are divers vanities.” But we dare not say that God never makes use of dreams to forward His own inscrutable designs: on the contrary, we believe that He has often made a dream about death or judgment the occasion of stirring up a person to seek after salvation; and that He has afterwards answered the prayers, which originated in that apparently trifling and accidental occurrence.
JOHN NEWTON (1725-1807): I have had some people awakened by dreams—two persons, who lived like heathens, and never came to church, were alarmed by some terrifying dreams, and came out to hear forthwith. There the Lord was pleased to meet with them. One of them died triumphing; the other, I hope, will do so when her time comes.
ADAM CLARKE (1760-1832): Many, by such means, have had the most salutary warnings; and to decry all such, because there are many vain dreams, would be nearly as much wisdom as to deny the Bible, because there are many foolish books—Many warnings in this way have come from God; and the impression they made, and the good effect they produced, were the proofs of their Divine origin. To deny this would be to call into doubt the testimony of the best, wisest, and holiest men in all ages of the Church.
RICHARD CECIL (1748-1810): John Newton, being a common sailor [in 1742, at age 17], received a remarkable check by a dream, which made a very strong, though not abiding, impression upon his mind.
JOHN NEWTON: The scene presented to my imagination was the harbour of Venice, where we had lately been. It was night, and my watch upon the deck; and as I was walking to and fro, a person brought me a ring, with an express charge to keep it carefully; assuring me, that while I preserved that ring, I should be happy and successful: but if I lost or parted with it, I must expect nothing but trouble and misery. I accepted the present and the terms willingly, not in the least doubting my own care to preserve it, and highly satisfied to have my happiness in my own keeping.
I was engaged in these thoughts, when a second person came to me, and observing the ring on my finger, asked me some questions concerning it. I told him its virtues; and his answer expressed a surprise at my weakness in expecting such effects from a ring. I think he reasoned with me some time, upon the impossibility of the thing, and urged me to throw it away. At first I was shocked at the proposal; but his insinuations prevailed. I began to reason and doubt, and at last plucked it off my finger, and dropped it over the ship’s side into the water.
At the same instant it hit the water, a terrible fire burst out from a range of mountains behind the city of Venice. I saw the hills as distinct as if awake, and they were all in flames. I perceived, too late, my folly; and my tempter, with an air of insult, told me that all the mercy God had in reserve for me was comprised in that ring, which I had willfully thrown away. Now I must go with him to the burning mountains. I trembled, and was in a great agony; so that it was surprising I did not then awake: but my dream continued.
Then, when I thought myself upon the point of a forced departure, and stood self condemned, without a plea or hope—suddenly, either a third person, or the same who brought the ring at first, I am not certain which, came to me, and demanded the cause of my grief. I told him, confessing that I had ruined myself willfully, and deserved no pity. He blamed my rashness, and asked if I should be wiser if I had my ring again. I thought it was gone beyond recall, and I had not time to answer, before I saw this unexpected friend go down under the water, in the spot where I had dropped it; and he soon returned, bringing the ring with him: the moment he came on board, the flames in the mountains were extinguished, and my seducer left me. Then was the prey taken from the hand of the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered. My fears were at an end, and with joy and gratitude I approached my kind deliverer to receive the ring again; but he refused to return it, and said, “If you should be entrusted with this ring again, you would very soon bring yourself into the same distress: you are not able to keep it; but I will preserve it for you, and, whenever it is needful, will produce it in your behalf.”
Upon this I awoke, in a state of mind not to be described: I could hardly eat, or sleep, or transact my necessary business for two or three days: but the impression soon wore off, and in a while I totally forgot it; I think it hardly occurred to my mind again till several years afterwards.
GEORGE OFFOR (1787-1864): John Bunyan profited much by dreams and visions.
JOHN BUNYAN (1628-1688): The time that I was without God in the world, it was indeed according to the course of this world, and “the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience,” Ephesians 2:2,3. It was my delight to be “taken captive by the devil at his will,” 2 Timothy 2:26. Being filled with all unrighteousness, which did so strongly work and put forth itself in my heart and life, and that from a child, that I had but few equals, for cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy name of God. Yea, so settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became as second nature to me; which, as I have with soberness considered since, did so offend the Lord, that even in my childhood, He did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions; for often, after I had spent a day in sin, I have in my bed been greatly afflicted, while asleep, with the apprehensions of devils and wicked spirits, who still, as I then thought, laboured to draw me away with them, of which I could never be rid.
JOHN TRAPP (1601-1699): Wicked men’s sleep is often troublesome, through the workings of their evil consciences; king Richard III, after the murder of his two innocent nephews, had fearful dreams, insomuch that he did often leap out of his bed in the dark, and catching his sword, which always lay naked stuck by his side, he would go distractedly about the chamber, everywhere seeking to find out the cause of his own disquiet.
GEORGE OFFOR: We have no space to attempt drawing a line between convictions of sin and the terrors of a distempered brain. John Bunyan’s opinions upon this subject are deeply interesting. Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, the narrative of Bunyan’s progress in his conversion is, without exception, the most astonishing of any that has been published.
