The Parable of the Pilgrim, Parable · Chapter 23
CAP. XXIII.
What entertainment all theſe diſcourſes met withall from the Pilgrim. And of the pleaſures he ſhould find in his way, though incumbred with the fore-named Enemies.
AND now I am ſure you will expect to hear that the Pilgrim broke his ſilence: If not to thank this perſon for the ſatisfaction he had received, yet to tell him how much he thought himſelf engaged by the pains which he had moſt friendly taken for his ſatisfaction in the way to Jeruſalem. But yet he could not for the preſent ſpeak ſo much as one Word; ſuch a violent paſſion ſeizing on him that it blockt up all other paſſages but only thoſe for Tears. Which guſhing out apace and ſeeking for more vent then they could find; cauſed a greater obſtruction, and were ready to choak not only his Words, but alſo Himſelf. The good man who had hitherto been his Guide, thought that now he muſt become his Phyſitian. And fearing that this paſſion might grow to ſome danger, and ſuſpecting withall that it was the effect of a great ſadneſs which he had conceived at his diſcourſe; He went to him and taking him by the hand intreated him to reſiſt this tide ſo long, till he could take ſo much breath as to tell him the cauſe of it. Now that the Pilgrim might ſhow how obedient he was like to prove to the reſt of his Words, he ſtrove ſo earneſtly with himſelf, that many Minutes were not paſſed before he recovered the uſe of his tongue and was able thus to ſpeak to him. You have obliged me Sir ſo much beyond all my expreſſion by the Inſtructions you have beſtowed upon me, that as an endeavour to do more then we can, doth frequently make us to do juſt nothing at all; ſo I felt enough from thence ariſing to ſtifle my words, while my Soul laboured ſuch expreſſions of Gratitude as could not be uttered. My Tears Sir could only tell you how much I think my ſelf indebted to your Charity. For they did not ſpring from Grief as perhaps you might imagine, but from a very great joy, which flowed partly from the remembrance of the Providence which brought me hither, and partly from the ſenſe of your friendly love, but chiefly from the good news you tell me, that the way to ſuch a Bleſſed place as Jeruſalem, is incumbred with no greater difficulties then you have related. O Sir I am overjoyed to hear that the journey will be no worſe. It is a beginning of the pleaſures I expect there, to know that the way is ſo good; for I was willing to have undertaken far greater things, rather then forſake my reſolution of going thither. And here his voyce was intercepted by a new paſſion like to the former, though it was not long before it had ſpent it ſelf and gave him liberty to utter his mind as freely as he pleaſed.
But before he could begin to diſcharge himſelf of thoſe thoughts with which his Soul ſeemed to be fill'd, the other prevented him and told him that it was no ſmall joy to him alſo to find himſelf ſo deceived and to meet with ſuch a flood of joy in that place, where he feared he ſhould have found a deluge of ſorrow. And ſince, ſaid he, you take ſo great content in what I have ſaid about the way to Jeruſalem, which others hear with as much heavineſs as you did with pleaſure; I ſhall give you a freſh addition of joy by ſomething elſe which I reſerved as an incouragement to you, but now I ſee muſt be a part of your comfort. And truly by what I ſhall ſay, you will plainly ſee how well Jeſus rewards his ſervants that are willing to obey him; giving them far more than they durſt expect, and where they lookt for nothing but trouble and anguiſh, cauſing joy and gladneſs to ſpring up unto them. You ſhall never meet, I am confident, with worſe entertainments, than I have mentioned in your way to Jeruſalem, unleſs it be Death which we may meet with every where. But far better than have been ſpoken of, I do not fear to promiſe, if the Directions be followed which have been delivered to you. For beſides the pleaſures that will attend all your Victories, which are indeed unſpeakable, and more than can be numbred; I muſt tell you there is much contentment to be fetcht from the conſideration of the way you are to go. Though in many places it may be rugged and hard, as you already perceive, yet it is alwayes very ſtraight and eaſie to hit, having none of thoſe windings and turnings in it that perplex and intricate men in the contrary paths; which, me-thinks, is no ſmall comfort to a Traveller. Do you not ſee how many thouſand Arts men are at the labour to deviſe that they may cheat and circumvent their neighbours? What a number of ſhifts they are put unto to make good a lye, and to palliate a piece of knavery? What a loſs they are at ſometimes to compaſs their revenge, or to ſatisfie an unchaſt deſire? And what a vaſt burden of cares they are afflicted withall who do not depend on God? What troubleſome thoughts, what fears and frights, what diſcontents and diſguſts, and ſuch like paſſions as diſturb their quiet they are continually peſtered withall? There is none can tell you how theſe men wander up and down, and are at their wits end, and when one way fails, are put with as much incertainty to deviſe a new, to attain that which they deſign. Whereas the wayes wherein I would lead you are ſimple and plain, and lye ſo openly before your eyes, that you need not ſtudy what you have to do. Every body may ſoon know what Juſtice is, and there needs no Art at all to define it. To live purely, to forgive enemies, to truſt in God, and to ſpeak the truth, are things of no intricacy, and will not torture your mind for one moment to know what belongs unto them. They are very ſtraight paths, and there are no labyrinths in which they involve you. Bring but honeſty enough, and there needs not much wit, and no cunning at all to follow theſe courſes. Do but conſider this well, and you will think it a great happineſs to follow Jeſus. For the obtaining of whoſe love and favour, of his reſt and peace, you need not uſe any baſe Arts, nor practiſe deceitful tricks, nor work treaſons, nor be at the charge to calumniate your neighbours, nor take the pains to lye and couzen, to cog and flatter, to humour the luſts of men, to contradict your reaſon, and wound your conſcience. It will coſt you neither bad nights, nor unquiet ſleep, nor vexatious dayes, nor careful thoughts; it will ſtand you neither in the loſs of honour, nor the loſs of life and happineſs; but in natural and eaſie wayes, in pleaſant and ſafe courſes you may provide for the immortality of them both. I cannot but call them pleaſant, becauſe I am aſſured that when you are once uſed to the Rode, you will find the moſt rugged wayes to be more delightful, and in all regards more eaſie to the Pilgrims feet, than any of thoſe are, which lead unto the oppoſite Countries. The greateſt difficulty will be at the firſt entrance, as indeed it uſes to be in the beginning of all other labours; but when you and the wayes are once acquainted, I am confident you will not be perſwaded to turn into any other paths, though you were infallibly aſſured they would lead you to the Imperial Throne, and make you Lord of the world. There is never a ſtep of your Journey (as it were eaſy for me to demonſtrate) but it will have ſomething of ſweetneſs in it; your ſoul will cloſe with every thing that you have to do, no otherwiſe than your ſtomach imbraces the meat it loves; you ſhall not ſtay for all your peace till you come to Jeſus at Jeruſalem, but he will make you know that all his wayes are pleaſantneſs, and all his paths are peace.
And here I cannot but call to mind a pretty Fable,Dion. P…uſ Orat. 1. de Reg. or as the Author of it ſaith, a moſt wholeſome and ſacred Story, under the ſcheme and in the habit of a Tale; which will well repreſent unto you the eaſineſs and pleaſantneſs of the way to Jeruſalem, and much encourage you in it. It is deſigned indeed to ſhew how much more ſafe, facile and happy it is for a Prince to rule his ſubjects by his Laws, than by an abſolute will, and licentious power; but it may indifferently ſerve to inſtruct all manner of perſons (who ſeek the way to Happineſs as well as they, and may be taught by their great examples) how ſecurely and comfortably they live, who obſerve the Laws of their Saviour, above thoſe whoſe luſt is their Law, and that have no other meaſure of goodneſs but their own ſenſual deſires. It is in a Writer, I grant, that knew nothing of Jeruſalem, but this will give you the greater pleaſure, to hear that your way thither is ſo ſure, that you may learn ſomething of it from every body, even from thoſe that are but ſtrangers to the place. The Story is this:
When Hercules was yet but a little Youth educated at Thebes, Mercury was one day ſent to him from Heaven, that he might make a trial of his inclinations, and encourage him in all vertuous and noble undertakings. For this end he carried him in unknown ways to the top of an high Mountain, which it would be too long to give you a deſcription of in my Authors words. Thus much it is neceſſary for you to know, that it ſeemed but one to thoſe who ſtood at the foot of it, having but one root and one body as far as their eyes could reach; but indeed was parted into two Hills before it came to its utmoſt height, which were alſo very widely diſtant the one from the other. The one of theſe was called the Royal Tower, or the Temple of King Jupiter: The other had the name of the Tyrannical Fort, the ſeat in old time of the proud Typhon, whom Jupiter ſtruck down with Thunder from Heaven. To theſe two there was a ſeveral acceſs; and the way to that where Royalty dwelt was very ſafe, wide and plain, ſo that a man might aſcend even in a Chariot to that lofty place, without any danger or fear of falling: But to the other the way was narrow, crooked, and ſo dangerous, that a man muſt creep upon his hands and feet who intended to come thither. Nay, ſo full of hazard it was, that many who adventured to go in it, had been ſeen to precipitate themſelves, and were utterly loſt in a great Lake which was at the bottom of it. To thoſe who beheld them afar off, they ſeemed, as I ſaid before, to be but One; but the Royal Hill was far more eminent, lifting its head above the Region of the Air, and enjoying the benefit of the pure Sky; and the other was more depreſſed, having a cap of Clouds continually upon its head ſo thick and foggy, that they made it an obſcure and diſmal place. Now Hercules being brought thither, and having the nature of this Mountain thus ſhown to him, was already touched with ſo much ambition as to deſire to be admitted into the interiours of them both. Which he had no ſooner ſignified, than it was by Mercury granted, who ſaid, Follow me, and thou ſhalt behold moſt clearly the vaſt diſparity of theſe two, which is altogether hid from the eyes of Fools. And preſently he diſcovered to him upon the top of the former, a Woman ſitting on a very ſplendid Throne: who was exceeding beautiful, and of goodly proportions; cloathed in white rayment, and having a Scepter in her hand neither of Silver nor Gold; but of a more pure and ſhining nature, like to that which Juno weilds. Her countenance was compoſed of a mixture of ſmiles and gravity; ſo that all good men looked confidently upon her, and the evil were no more able to behold her, than they who have weak eyes can indure to turn them to the Sun. She ſeemed moreover to be ſo fixed, and alwayes like her ſelf, that her countenance and eyes did not betray ſo much as an inclination to change her ſerious ſweetneſs. And indeed it was admirable to ſee the quiet, peaceableneſs and conſtant temper of that place, to behold the plenty of fair fruit, which it every where yielded, and to obſerve how all the creatures of every kind which lived there, did skip and dance round about it, as if they were tickled with an inward pleaſure. Of Gold and Silver, and other Metals, there lay great heaps before her; and yet ſhe ſeemed to be pleaſed with none of them, but only in the fruits and in the ſeveral creatures which ſhe beheld in ſuch contentment ſurrounding her. When Hercules therefore had fixed his eyes a while upon her, he bluſhed exceedingly, and fell down in a humble veneration of her, no otherwiſe than as a dutiful Child would do before a brave and generous Mother. And having at laſt demanded of Mercury the name and condition of this perſon, he told him, that it was the bleſſed and heavenly Queen, BASILEA, the Daughter of King Jupiter, whom he ſaw attended with many fair Ladies that were eaſie to be diſcovered, and of no leſs Nobility than the Queen her ſelf. It is true, replyed the young man, I behold, to my no ſmall ſatisfaction, ſeveral divine perſons waiting upon that Heaven-born Baſilea; but may I be ſo happy as to know their Names alſo? She, ſaid Mercury, on the Queens right hand, who looks upon us with a ſtern mild countenance, is Juſtice a perſon of great account, and very beautiful? Hard by her there ſtands Uprightneſs, or Integrity; who is ſo like the former, that you can ſcarce know them aſunder, and is not inferiour to her in fairneſs. As for her whom thou beholdeſt on the other hand, a woman very ſpecious and goodly, bravely cloathed, and ſmiling on us, her name is Peace. She that ſtands juſt before the Queen, and even touches her Scepter, an ancient gray-headed Matron, ſtrong, and as thou eaſily ſeeſt, very magnanimous, She is called Law, or as others ſometimes name her, Right Reaſon: A perſon who is of her Privy Council, and never ſtirs from her, without whom it is a crime to do, or ſo much as to think any thing.
It would be too tedious to relate how the Youth was raviſhed with this ſight, and how he endeavoured to print his mind with it, ſo that he might never forget it. But in ſhort, he gazed ſo long upon Baſilea, and her Royal Attendants, that Mercury was fain to call to him, and bid him not to ſpend his whole time in that contemplation, but to deſcend a little with him, and look a while upon the other place alſo, which was not unworthy of his obſervation. And indeed he thought with himſelf that it might be uſeful to him as well as this, and therefore he willingly conſenting to go whither he would carry him, Mercury inſtantly brought him to a certain path which led to the Tyrannical Tower. There they ſaw a great number who waited for an opportunity to croud into it (the way, as I told you, being very narrow) and many that were contending, yea killing one the other to force their paſſage. The Father there was murdering his children, the children dragged their Parents to execution, and one Brother embrued his hands in anothers blood: Deſiring nothing elſe but the greateſt evil, and calling that the higheſt Happineſs, which is only Power and Folly married together. And firſt of all he bade him take notice of the entrance to that place, how dangerous it was, how full of precipices, and how it was ſo undermined in ſeveral paſſages, that the earth was ready to fall under thoſe who trod upon it. All the way likewiſe he ſhowed him was beſmeared with blood; and paved with skulls and dead mens bones, ſo that he ſaw it was not fit to let him ſet his foot in it, but he carried him in a fairer tract to an advantagious place, where he might take a juſt proſpect of that part of the Mountain whereon Tyranny had ſeated her ſelf. To a great height ſhe was raiſed, though (as I noted before) ſhe could not be elevated to ſuch a pitch, as to free her ſelf from the vapours and miſts which infect theſe lower Regions. But he could clearly diſcern that ſhe ſtudied be to like the incomparable Baſilea, and therefore feigned and counterfeited as much as ſhe could the face, the geſtures, the very Air of that Queen of Beauties. Nay, her Throne ſeemed to be far higher and better than the others, having many fair ſculptures upon it, and being adorned with Gold, Ivory, Ebony, and ſuch like varieties as Riches furniſhed her withall: But yet the foot of the Throne was not fixed, nor could all the wealth ſhe was Miſtreſs of procure, that it might ſtand faſt without any ſhaking or tottering at all. Nor was there any thing orderly and handſomely diſpoſed about her; but every thing was faſhioned to comport with the Ends of Glory, Pride and Luxury, which in truth reigned over her, as ſhe over others. Many Scepters there were in her hand, and more then one Diadem upon her head; but they could not make her beautiful, becauſe the more ſhe ſtudied to imitate the others manners the more deformed and ugly ſhe appeared. When ſhe thought to come forth with her friendly ſmiles, the eyes of thoſe that lookt upon her were entertained with nothing but a baſe and filthy kind of crafty grin. In ſtead alſo of the Gravity which ſhe affected, a ſtrange fierceneſs and terrour diſcovered it ſelf in her looks. Nay, that ſhe might ſeem magnanimous ſhe would not often caſt her eyes on thoſe who approached her, but turn them another way with a lofty diſdain; whereby ſhe became the object of all mens hatred, as they were of her ſcorn. Care ſhe took of no body but her ſelf; nor could ſhe by all her care make her ſelf to ſit in quiet; but often ſtared round about her, and ſtarted up, or leaped out of her Throne, as if ſhe ſate uneaſily, or apprehended ſome approaching danger. Gold ſhe ſometimes filthily kept in her very boſome; ſometimes in a fright threw it abroad among the people; and then again ſnatched it out of their hands and was ſo greedy of it, that ſhe pillaged every body that had but the leaſt grain of it about them. And not to name her garments which he ſayes were of divers colours, ſhe her ſelf uſed to be of as many colours as they. Being ſometimes in Fears, ſometimes in Anger; ſometimes troubled with a fit of Jealouſie, and ſometimes over confident of her ſelf and others. Now being very humble and ſervile; and preſently after proud and inſolent; at this moment laughing very loudly; and in the next as bitterly bewailing ſome misfortune or other. They that were about her alſo were as different from the Attendants before named, as ſhe her ſelf was from the Queen. Their names were, Cruelty, Contumely, Iniquity, and Sedition, who all ſerved only to corrupt her and bring her to deſtruction. And I muſt not forget to relate that inſtead of Friendſhip, of which all are in ſo great need, ſhe was daily attended by a ſervile and illiberal fellow called Flattery, who was no leſs treacherous to her then the reſt, and indeed above all others ſought her ruine. He was ever ſtudying to form pleaſing propoſitions; and if they were but grateful to her it was ſufficient; for he never took any care about the good or hurt that was in them. It was a wonder to obſerve the Arts whereby he inſinuated himſelf into her mind: what a ſtrict intelligence he kept with her paſſions: and how he ſeized on all the avenues and lockt up all the paſſages of her ſoul when he was once poſſeſſed of it, that none could be admitted to ſuch a confidence as himſelf. He was ever whiſpering ſome of his lewd Maxims into her ear, and breathing ſome vitious Counſel or other into her heart: But he did it ſo ſoftly that they could then hear nothing that he ſaid, and therefore he that relates the ſtory hath reported nothing of it. But I have been informed by another who hath approached very near to the ſecrets of that Villany, that he was wont to advance ſuch doctrines as theſe. That a Prince ought not to ſuffer himſelf to be bound with the fetters of Laws. That it was below him to be ſubject to the Fancies and Viſions of ancient Legiſlators. That every thing was Juſt which was his Will. And that it was a weak and feeble thing to ſeek to be beloved. A great ſpirit ought rather to indeavour to make himſelf feared: and at the moſt he ſhould aim only at his, that he might not be hated. Nay I have heard that he ſhould ſay (and I give you the very words of the perſon from whom I had it) That Honeſty was the Vertue of a Merchant and not of a Soveraign. That in Heaven they put the very Oaths of Princes in the ſame ſcales with thoſe of Lovers. That Jupiter commands them to be thrown into the wind as trivial things and of no value. For this he alledged ſome Poet, for they were all the Divines which he conſulted, and were ſrequently alſo abuſed by him. And ſo in a way of Fooling and telling of Tales he perſwaded her that ſhe need not keep her word, nor tye her ſelf to follow any thing elſe but her own deſires. It would be too long to tell you how ingenious this perſon was in inventing pleaſures: and how he ſtudied to indear himſelf by ſhameful ſervices. And indeed moſt of thoſe things were then concealed and had a curtain drawn before them, only thus much he overheard: That he jeared at Vertue and laught at Piety as a ſneaking quality, and the effect of a creeping, weak and ſuperſtitious mind. And that he commended a voluptuous life out of all meaſure, calling them Fools whoſe nice and delicate conſciences, made them rude and cruel to their fleſh.
Now when Hercules had carefully view'd this Golden Creature with all her Servants, as well as he had done the other, Mercury, according to his Commiſſion demanded of him, that he ſhould tell him truly which of theſe did pleaſe him beſt and was held by him in greateſt admiration. To which he preſently replyed, In good ſadneſs, the former ſeemed to me ſo glorious, that I not only loved and admired her, but took her for a Goddeſs and thought her worthy of Worſhip and Imitation: But this is ſo odious and abominable in my opinion, that I would gladly have the liberty to throw her headlong from this high rock and break her neck. You know how much I loath the brutiſhneſs of her life (continued he, as ſome Authours relate) and how I deſpiſe all her baſe and ſordid pleaſures. For when Pleaſure her ſelf appeared to me in a Viſion and preſented me with all her beauties; you may well remember how I ſcorned her courtſhip, and reſolved to embrace laborious Vertue as the Miſtreſs of greater pleaſures. Therefore if it be not lawful for me to lay Violent hands on that Fury, yet let the heavens ſpurn her into that condition, which ſhe kicks others down into; and let not proſperous Impiety be alwayes held as good as Vertue. This heat of his, Mercury repreſſed and bad him have Patience in as great eſteem as any of the Vertues he had beheld; but his Judgement which he had given in favour of Baſilea he praiſed and commended as it did deſerve, and having told it unto Jupiter, That was the thing, they ſay, which gained him the Empire of the World, and moved the Heavens to commit all Mankind to his care and Government.
I doubt I have tired you with this long Story, but I ſhall not trouble you much further. Nor ſhall I ſtudy to ſhow you how fitly may hence be repreſented the Happineſs of all other men in their ſeveral conditions who take the wayes of Piety, and the Miſery of all the reſt who tread in any other path; for you are of capacity to do this ſervice for your ſelf. All that I ſhall ſay is only this, That to the men of this world they ſeem the very ſame as the Mountain in the ſtory did: And becauſe all things here fall alike to all, they think it is all one what courſe a man holds if it be but conformable to his own appetite. But you may look upon me if you pleaſe as ſtanding in the place and quality of a Mercury to you, to ſhow you the Holy Hill of God, and the beauteous City which is built upon it, and the Glorious Monarch which inhabits it, together with the way which leads thither, and the vaſt advantages which it hath over that Babel which men have built in their own fancies, and which would fain reach up to Heaven, but tumbles down together with them into endleſs ruine. And truly I cannot but fancy you to be another couragious Hercules, who ſeeing how high the aſcent to that City is, and over what difficulties you are to climb, yet are not at all diſmaid, but reſolved to march in the way thither, though all the Silver and Gold, all the Jollity and pleaſure of the World ſhould lye in the way on the other ſide. The Heavens no doubt applaud your choice and they bid me tell you it ſhall be well rewarded; nay, I have already ſhown you that you muſt needs be more happy in that courſe then in any elſe that can be invented. For though the Hill be high and ſteep which you are to mount, yet the way is plain and eaſie, pleaſures guard it round about, and a glorious place it brings you unto at the laſt. As you will totally eſcape thoſe wayes wherein, according to the ſtory now told, there are nothing but intricacy and uncertainty, miſts and darkneſs, trouble and ſorrow, anxiety and diſquiet, and in a word a great deal of pains to make a man doubly miſerable: So you will be conducted in plain, natural, and unperplexed paths, in paths of pleaſure and peace, of confidence and aſſurance, of light and ſerenity, of ſet ledneſs and ſtedineſs of mind, which will not let you be a ſtranger to an abundant happineſs. I know the pretended ſatisfactions in the other way may make a greater ſhow, and appear more ſplendid, accompanied with more pomp and noiſe: but if you be in love with ſtill and ſilent joyes, with grave delights and ſerious pleaſures, they are only to be found in this way which I have pointed you unto. You ſhall never tremble in the midſt of theſe enjoyments, nor ſhall you be troubled with fear leſt you ſhould loſe your happineſs. There are no mock-ſmiles here, when the heart is wrung within: but the eaſe of the mind makes the countenance ſmooth, and the joy of the heart caſts a ſplendor into the eyes and a ſweetneſs into the face. You ſhall never be flattered and cheated here with the deluſions of momentary pleaſures: but every taſt you have of joy ſhall be an aſſurance of an everlaſting felicity. Nay, you ſhall give a great joy to others alſo, and pleaſe them as well as your ſelf. You ſhall make all that are about you to rejoyce, and their contentment will be an addition to your own. The ſatisfaction of making others happy and ſeeing them full of comfort by your means; will not let you doubt of your own happineſs, nor want that peace which you give to them. And then after all this, you ſhall find your ſelf at laſt, though not made Maſter of all this World; yet brought to Jeruſalem the City of the great King, of the Lord of all; there to reign with him in eternal Glory.