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The Parable of the Pilgrim · Simon Patrick

The Parable of the Pilgrim, Parable · Chapter 11

CAP. XI.

He commends to the Pilgrim, two Companions: Humility and Charity. Directs where to find them. With a large Diſcourſe of the former of them.

IT was not long before the Good man of the houſe came to give him the uſual morning ſalutations, and to inquire how he had reſted that night. But when he entred his Chamber he beheld ſuch a joy in his countenance, that it quite turned by that thought, and made him congratulate his chearfulneſs, which he told him he took as a certain indication, that his Counſels had found a good acceptance, and were like to be purſued. His Gueſt was willing that he ſhould impute his pleaſant aſpect to that cauſe, and ſo told him nothing of his dream: Fearing indeed that he might think him childiſh and ſuperſtitious, if he knew that he conceived ſo much joy from ſuch ſleight appearances and ſhadows of comfort. But having expreſſed his great ſatisfaction in thoſe preparatory diſcourſes wherewith he had been pleaſed to honour him; he told him that the New day was not ſo welcome as himſelf, and that the Hours ſeemed too ſluggiſh, and the morning to make over-long delay, to bring him the reſt of of the Counſels which he expected from his mouth, You have given me a rare Good-morrow, replyed the Guide, and I have ſeldome met with ſuch early joys: Let us give thanks to God therefore for this happy beginning, and ſo qualifie our ſelves for the continuance of his favours. The poor Pilgrim (for ſo he eſteemed himſelf) imbraced this pious motion with all his heart; and ſo having joyned together in their devout acknowledgments, the one prepared himſelf to ſpeak, and the other to hear what further related to his intended Journey to Jeruſalem. And the Sky being very clear, the Earth having charged the Air with no vapours at all, they were invited into the fields, at once to refreſh their bodies with a walk, and their minds with good diſcourſe. Conſidering alſo the ſecurity they ſhould enjoy thereby from all the diverſions that other company might give them; it was agreed, that all the time he ſtayed there, if the weather were favourable, they ſhould ſpend the greateſt part of the day abroad. You will expect, perhaps, that I ſhould ſet down at large the particulars of every dayes conference, and tell you where the night broke it off, and with what circumſtances it was renewed the next morning; but I fear that method would extend my narrative to too great a length: And therefore I ſhall content my ſelf to give you a continued Relation of the principal things which at ſeveral times entertained our Pilgrim, during his ſtay with this good man; whoſe charity would not ſuffer him to depart, till he was fully inſtructed in all things that concerned his ſafe paſſe to the City of God.

As ſoon then as they had the houſe on their backs, and were come into the open Air, the Guide began to ſpeak unto him to this effect. I will not be ſo diſtruſtful of your memory, as to make a repetition of what hath been already ſaid, but proceed to tell you, that having diſpoſed your affairs in ſuch ſort as I have directed, and put your ſelf in good order for your Journey, you muſt be ſure to provide your ſelf of two Companions to go along with you, which indeed you can never be without, whoſe names are HUMILITY and CHARITY. The former of theſe will alwayes keep you in a mean opinion of your ſelf, and the latter will raiſe you to an high eſteem of God and your Saviour, breeding in you a paſſionate deſire to be like to them, and a grateful reſentment of all their kindneſs to you. And that you may not think I intend to put you upon ſome long ſearch for them, I ſhall tell you for your comfort, that you ſhall find them both lodged together in one place from whence they never ſtir, but are alwayes ready at hand to aſſiſt thoſe that there ſeek for them. I know you are deſirous that I ſhould acquaint you where that is, and becauſe I would ſave your pains as much as ever I can, I ſhall ſend you no further than your ſelf, if you ſtill keep in mind that ſentence which I told you would be of daily uſe, and which you requeſted to have explained; for in that you will be ſure to meet them embracing one another in an inſeparable conjunction. You do well, I hope, remember it; yet I cannot chuſe but repeat it to you, and wiſh you again & again to ſay as affectionately as you are able, I am nought, I have nought, I deſire nought, but only this one thing, which is our Lord Jeſus Chriſt; and to be in peace with him at Jeruſalem. HUMILITY ſayes, I am nought, I have nought. And LOVE ſayes, I deſire nought but Jeſus and Jeruſalem. Theſe two you may the better keep in your company, becauſe you cannot loſe either of them, unleſs you will loſe them both; (and who is there that would not at leaſt have one friend to be of his ſociety in his travels?) So lovingly they do agree together, that they are by no means willing to be aſunder. If the one be admitted, the other will not be excluded; and as the one grows to a taller pitch, the other advances together with it. The more you humble your ſelf, the higher will your Love aſcend; and as that is exalted, ſo will you learn ſtill lower to depreſs your ſelf. For the more you diſcern your ſelf to be nothing, with the greater ardency of affection will you embrace Jeſus, who is deſirous to make you ſomething worth: and the more you admire and love him & his incomparable perfections, the better ſtill will you be able to take a view of your own nothing. And that is a thing which I think fit to obſerve to you before we paſs any further, becauſe it may be of great uſe unto you in your Pilgrimage. That the Humility which I commend unto you, is not to be exerciſed ſo much in a direct conſidering of your ſelf, your ſinfulneſs and your miſery; (though this be very profitable at the firſt) as in a ſtill, quiet and loving admiration of the excellent Goodneſs, Purity and Love of Jeſus. When you believe him to have the fulneſs of the Godhead dwelling in him bodily, and eſpecially when you are indued with a ſavoury feeling of his holineſs and kindneſs; this ſight of him will beget in your ſoul a more pure, ſpiritual and ſweet Humility, than the beholding of your ſelf can poſſibly do, which produces an Humility more groſs, boiſterous and unquiet. As there is a Love which is calm and quiet, when not at all ſtirr'd with the paſſion, we remain poſſeſſed of all the pleaſure of it; So is there an Humility of the ſame nature, which ſilently ſinks us down to the very bottom of our being, without ſtirring and troubling of our ſouls, as we are wont to do when we violently plunge our thoughts into them. But both of theſe deſcend from above, when our minds are faſtned to caeleſtial objects, which alwayes are in a ſerene tranquillity: they will not ſpring from things beneath, which are toſſed in a perpetual and reſtleſs agitation. We never ſeem leſs in our own eyes, than when we look down from an high upon our ſelves: and being then in peace, we have leſs alſo of that vexation wherein our ſouls are apt to boil and rage when they are the neareſt objects of our thoughts. Our Humility will be the more when we admire Jeſus; and it will be of a temper more mild and gentle, like him whom we admire. It will not loſe any thing of it ſelf by taking its original from him; but only loſe that ſowreneſs which is mingled with it when it hath its beginning from our ſelves. You will plainly underſtand my meaning, if you do but conſider, that by fixing your eyes upon your ſelf, you may indeed diſcern that you are a moſt wretched, ſinful creature: but by faſtning them upon him, you will both ſee the ſame, and that more clearly; and moreover feel that you are a meer nothing. This ſenſe of your ſelf, which layes you loweſt of all other, you can never owe to any thing elſe, but a ſight of him who wants nothing. His Fulneſs appearing ſo great, your Emptineſs will ſeem as vaſt; and in compare with his Perfections, you will think your ſelf nothing but Imperfection. When you conſider that all is his, at that thought you have loſt your ſelf, by finding that you are not your own: and when you think that he is the original of all, you are loſt again in a ſenſe that you had been nothing without him. So that in this way you will be as much caſt down to the ground, and rolled as much in the duſt, as by any other reflections: All the difference is, that you will not roll and tumble about in the turbulency of your own diſtracted thoughts, and the violent commotion of your furious paſſions. You will only lye at his feet in a lowly poſture, adoring of his Excellencies, praiſing his ſurpaſſing Perfections, confeſſing your own meanneſs, beſeeching him to pity a poor Soul that thinks it ſelf nothing, unleſs it may ſee him there, and deſiring him to take the opportunity of doing himſelf that honour, and you that kindneſs, as out of his fulneſs to impart a new ſpirit, and a divine nature to you. Nay this Humility will make you ſtudy to caſt all other things out of your thoughts, and labour only to be beloved of him, without which you judge your ſelf to be of all creatures moſt miſerable. It is not to be told what the benefits of this ſort of Humility are: but to let you ſee ſomething of its great virtue, reflect upon that which we lately diſcourſed concerning the force of a ſtrong Reſolution, and hearty ſurrender of your ſelf to God. Which as it contains all things you are to do with in its comprehenſion, ſo it is ſupported by nothing more than a profound Humility. When we conſider that we were made by God, that we depend upon him every moment, that we are infinitely ingaged to him for many millions of his favours; when we think what a Soveraign Authority he hath over us, how much he is ſuperiour to us, what a right he hath to all our ſervices, and how wiſe and good his will is; it is impoſſible that we ſhould avoid reſolving to give him our hearts, and to perſiſt eternally in the abnegation of our own wills and deſires, which we can never ſuffer to be competitors with his. This Humility will not be forward to cloathe you with ſhirts of hair, to preſcribe you no other dyet but the meaneſt you can procure, to put a whip into your hand wherewith to let your ſelf blood, to rob you of your hoſe and ſhooes, that you may go barefoot to Jeruſalem: It will not bid you ſtrike your bare breaſt againſt the ſtones, nor tell you, that to be a Saint, you muſt roll your naked body in the briers, or tumble in the ſame manner in heaps of Winter Snow, or plunge your ſelf up to the neck in an Icy Pool: But it will infallibly ſtrip you of your ſelf, and ſtarve all your carnal deſires, and break your will in pieces, and lay you at the foot of the Croſs of Chriſt, and diſpoſe you to all thoſe rigours, and a thouſand more if your Lord did ſignifie that he would be pleaſed with ſuch auſterities.

How ſafe then and ſecure muſt you needs think your ſelf under the conduct of ſuch a Companion? you cannot have a better Guard, nor be put into a place of greater aſſurance, if you ſeek over all the world for it, than that to which Humility will lead you. For making you diſtruſtful of your own power and ſtrength, it will urge you to a continual dependance upon your Lord, without whom you feel that nothing, much leſs ſuch an excellent thing as you deſign can be atchieved. We accuſe very much the weakneſs of our nature, we complain heavily of the body of fleſh and blood, which continually betrayes us, we conceit that we ſhould do rare things, were we but once quit of this load of earth, and ſuffered to move in the free and yielding Air. But let me tell you, and believe it for a truth; though we had no ſociety with a terreſtrial nature; nay, though our minds were free and clear from all mortal concretion, though we had no cloathes at all to hinder our motion; yet our ruine might ariſe out of our ſpirits, and by pride and ſelf-confidence we might throw our ſelves down into utter deſtruction. For what commerce, I pray you, had the Apoſtate Angels with our corporeal nature? what familiarity with a body? Do we not conceive them to have been pure ſpirits ſeparated from all earthly contagion? And yet by placing all in themſelves, by being puffed up in their own thoughts, and not acknowledging their need of the Divine preſence and aſſiſtance, we conclude that they tumbled themſelves into an Abyſſe of miſery and woe irrecoverable. Now they are in a worſe condition then if they were ſpirits of a ſmaller ſize: Now the torment they ſuffer is proportionable to the nobleneſs of their nature. For the ſharper and quicker the mind is, and the greater its indowments are which it hath received; the greater miſchief doth it bring upon it ſelf, and the ſadder are its perplexities when it is deſtitute of the ſpecial help and preſence of God. As a great Giant being blinded muſt needs ſtumble more grievouſly, and give himſelf ſorer knocks then he would have done, if he had not been of ſo huge a bulk: So a mind and reaſon elevated to an higher pitch then others, is carried headlong into an heavier ruine, when it is deprived of that Divine light which is neceſſary for its guidance and preſervation. Excellency of nature therefore little profits if God be not preſent with it, and he abſents himſelf from all, that place not their ſtrength, ſufficiency and ſafeguard in him, but in themſelves. And on the other ſide Fragility of nature is not that which will undo us if the Divine preſence do not withdraw it ſelf, which it never doth from humble and lowly minds that confide in him and not in their own power, which were it a thouſand times greater then it is, would not be ſufficient to conſerve it ſelf. Our pride and vanity and forgetfulneſs of God then is that which we muſt accuſe; not the infirmity and crazineſs of our fleſh; for as the excellency of the Angelical nature could not ſave them when they disjoyned themſelves from their Creator: So the weakneſs of ours ſhall not harm us, if we keep cloſe to him and never ſever our ſelves from that heavenly power which worketh mightily in us. Do you not ſee then how much you muſt ſtand indebted to this Aſſociate in your journy? For it is Humility that muſt faſten you to God, that will keep you in a conſtant adherence to him, and not let you ſtir a foot from him; that will make you tremble to think of looking into your ſelf and not behold him there. This is in effect your ſtrength and ſalvation; this ſupplies the defects of your nature; this is the remedy of your infirmity; and after a ſtrange way this raiſes you above all the power of the world, by keeping you down and preſſing you very low in your own thoughts.

I muſt not defraud it therefore of thoſe juſt praiſes that are due to its vertue, which may recommend it more to your affection and make its company more grateful in your travels. But it is fit you ſhould know that this humility which makes us ſeem ſo little or nothing in our own eyes, is one of the moſt glorious things in the world, and places a man among the ancient Hero's. It is indeed the height and ſublimity of our mind, the true Gallantry of our ſpirits. It letting us ſee what poor deſpicable things we are, cauſes us to ſurmount our ſelves and to have no regard to ſuch low and petty intereſts as thoſe of our own. It is not a ſneaking quality, that diſpirits the ſoul and deprives it of all its force and vigor, but a generous diſpoſition of mind, that will not ſuffer it to imploy its forces upon ſuch a mean and contemptible ſervice as that of pleaſing our ſelves. Let it not ſeem a Paradox to you, for there is nothing truer, that Pride and conceitedneſs are the qualities of baſe bred ſouls, of feeble and ignoble minds; and that lowlineſs is the indowment of a ſoul well born, nobly deſcended, and bravely educated in the knowledge of the moſt excellent things. For whether is greater I pray you, he that ſets a value upon little trifles, or he that deſpiſes them? Is not he that deſpiſes them? whoſe thoughts are taken up with ſublimer objects that make himſelf and all things here beſides appear as nothing in his eyes. I believe you will ſay there was not a greater man in the world in thoſe dayes then Moſes, a leader of a mighty people, the Captain General of all the Pilgrims of that Age, who had wrought wonders in Aegypt, who had ſignalized himſelf by the drowning of Pharoahs Army in the Sea:V. Chryſt. in 1 Cor. 1.3. and yet it is apparent there was not a meeker perſon living upon the earth: no man had a meaner opinion of himſelf. He was content to be taught by Jethro though he knew ſo much himſelf; nay he was not offended at his reprehenſion, but ſubmitted his judgment to a better reaſon. Could there be a greater inſtance of his Humility and Gallantry both together? He that had overcome ſo many, now overcame himſelf. He that had triumphed over mighty hoſts, now leads his pride in Triumph and tramples it under his feet. He cared not who had the honour of it, ſo wiſe and great things were effected. His own glory he valued not, but his Humility inſpired him by all means to ſeek the peoples good. What think you of Abraham alſo a more ancient Pilgrim then this? who calls himſelf but Duſt and Aſhes; who condeſcended ſo far as to pray Lot a perſon inferiour to himſelf, that there might be no difference between them: And yet this was that great man who had overcome ſo many Kings in battle, and brought away ſo many ſpoils, and redeemed Lot himſelf from Captivity. Hath not his Humility rendred him more famous then thoſe victories? Hath he not crowned himſelf with greater glory in not vaunting himſelf in thoſe Trophies, then if he had been ſerved continually by thoſe conquered Princes? If one man thinks clay to be clay and therefore treads upon it; another thinks it to be gold and therefore admires it; which of theſe hath the braver mind? Hath not he who doth not admire the clay and embrace the dirt? So he truly that calls himſelf but Duſt and Aſhes hath certainly a very great ſoul; while he that underſtandeth not but hath himſelf in admiration is a weak and baſely minded man. He hath a great ſpirit who makes no account of thoſe things which others are proud of. He is generous who deſpiſes things far greater than thoſe, which others eſteem the marks of their glory: who doth not ſwell with high atchievements when his envious neighbours are puffed up with every trifle. Humility then you ſee is not ſheepineſs, but loftineſs of mind and the moſt elevated pitch of the ſoul. It is not dejectedneſs of ſpirit, but a raiſed underſtanding of God and of our ſelves. And therefore let us be low (as one of the ancient Guides of the Church adviſes) that we may be high. If we admire any thing here, let it be the ſublimity of humble minds.

I cannot conclude before I add for your further incitement, that Humility is of an excellent good nature and hath a ſingular obligingneſs in its conſtitution. It makes us no leſs acceptable unto men then unto God, and renders us amiable though we have nothing elſe to give us any advantage. Do you not ſee how intollerable the Proud are? and what is the reaſon of it, but becauſe they ſcorn thoſe who are not of their rank? They cannot be obliged becauſe they think whatſoever you do is due to their merit. They would be loved by all, without loving again. They will command in all companies, and have every one yield to their humors. They will teach all and learn of none. They are incapable of gratitude, and think you are honoured enough for your ſervices, if they do but receive them. They would draw all to themſelves, and are unacquainted with that which charms all the world, I mean bounty and liberality. The Humble man no doubt then is the moſt agreeable perſon upon earth; whom you oblige by a good word, which he thinks he doth not deſerve: who thanks you for the ſmalleſt courteſie: who had rather obey then rule: who is deſirous to learn of the meaneſt Scholler: who contemns no body but himſelf: who loves though he be not loved: who thinks nothing too much to do for thoſe that eſteem him: and who is afraid he hath never recompenced enough the civilities which are done unto him. In ſhort, this Humility is of ſuch great value and ſo good natured, that there is nothing comparable to it but its twin ſiſter, Divine Charity. This amiable pair are like the right foot and the left by which the traveller performs his journey. There needs no more but this happy couple to carry you through all the paths of piety and bring you ſafe to Jeruſalem. Let us turn our eyes then if you pleaſe from the one to the other, and look a while upon the beauty and graces of Charity, whoſe charms are ſo powerful that you cannot chuſe but open to it your embraces.