The Parable of the Pilgrim, Parable · Chapter 12
CAP. XII.
Of Divine Charity. The Power that it hath both to eſtabliſh his Reſolution, and furniſh him with all other Requiſites for his Journey.
ANd that which will very much inamour you at the firſt glance, is the power which you will diſcover in it to eſtabliſh your Reſolution, and to make it ſo firm, that it ſhall not be ſhaken by all the force of all the world, which is nothing ſo ſtrong and mighty as Love. I know this touches you with a ſtrong inclination to it, if you have any mind to offer your will to God as I adviſed; and therefore you will not think I importune you with a tedious diſcourſe, if I make you more ſenſible of this following truth. That Love makes one will of two, and cauſes us to ſacrifice all our own deſires to the will of that we love, if we eſteem it better than our ſelves. For what, I pray you, can we ſay of Love, but which a wiſer man than you or I hath told us, who calls it that emotion of the ſoul whereby we joyn our ſelves in will and heart to that which is preſented as lovely and convenient for us? It is ſuch a conſent, I ſay, of the heart to ſome fair and inviting object, that we conſider our ſelves as joyned and united to it: Inſomuch that we do not look on our ſelves and it as remaining any longer two things which ſubſiſt aſunder; but we conceive a Whole, whereof we think our ſelves but one part, and the thing beloved to be the other. Is it not neceſſary then, that we have a mind to cleave to this, and eternally live in dear imbraces of it? Can we endure the thought of being torn from this, and ſo diſſolve the Whole which Love hath made? Do not we naturally deſire to conſerve things, eſpecially thoſe of our our own creating? It is unavoidable then, that in any conteſt which may ariſe between theſe parts, we yield to the will of that we love, for fear of a ſeparation; unleſs that thing be worſe than our ſelves, and ſo we hope to gain by the diſſolution. If one of theſe two muſt be diſpleaſed, we ſhall ever chuſe that it be our ſelves, unleſs we eſteem the other to be of leſs value and worth than our ſelves. There is but that one Exception lyes againſt this general Truth, which I ſhall not ſtick to reiterate, that Love doth ſo tye us to that we love, that we and it become but one whole conſiſting of two parts; and that we ſhall ſooner ſuffer that part which we make, to be croſſed in its deſires, than the other to which we have joyned our ſelves to be diſguſted. Do you doubt of it? Obſerve then, that Love being placed on things that differ in three degrees, it comes to be divided into three ſorts. Either it is to things below us, and then it is called a bare Affection; or to things equal to us, and then it is termed Friendſhip; or to things above us, and then it arrives at the name of Devotion. Thus I have learnt from a wiſe man of my acquaintance. Now the nature of Love in every one of theſe being ſuch, that it joyns our hearts to the thing beloved, and we and it make but one whole: in this only they differ, that though we may conſent to part, and break with that which we eſteem leſs than our ſelves, yet we can never agree to be ſeparated from that which we eſteem greater. The leſs part will alwayes be abandoned to the conſervation of the greateſt; we muſt alwayes ſacrifice that which is worſt, to keep intire the beſt. And therefore, though in bare Affection a man alwayes prefers himſelf before that he loves, when one muſt ſuffer a diſpleaſure; yet it is quite otherwiſe in the higheſt Love (and ſometime in the ſecond ſort) which we call Devotion, for there a man prefers the thing he loves ſo much before himſelf, that he fears not to venture his very life for the conſervation of it. He will ſooner ſever Soul and Body, than conſent that this and his Soul ſhould be divided. He will rather quit all the world, and never ſee it more, than forſake this, and be baniſhed from it. Becauſe, as there is no compare, he thinks, between all the world and this, ſo he is tyed with an incomparably ſtronger bond to it, than to all the world. Now of this ſort is the Love that we call Charity, which is an high Devotion to our Lord. Who ſince he is Lord of all, the Lord of life and glory, the Author of eternal Salvation, the only begotten of the Father, full of Grace and Truth; if it were poſſible for us to leave ſome things that are better than our ſelves, in expectation of ſomething better than them, to which we will give that Love which they have loſt; yet he will make us love him eternally above all, and live in inſeparable union with him, becauſe there is nothing elſe ſuperiour to him on which to beſtow our Love if we take it from him. If we once ſincerely love him, if we become one with him, it is manifeſtly in the nature of this ſublime affection, to make us part with our ſelves for his ſake: to reſign up all our own deſires that his will may be done: to loſe whatſoever we call ours, that we may keep him and his good eſteem of us. It is not poſſible that we ſhould grant our conſent to have that knot untied, which makes us part of ſuch a whole whereof the Son of God is the other part. There needs nothing to keep it faſt, but to keep us in our wits. And therefore ſince a will diſtinct from his will, makes us two again, we ſhall alwayes comprimiſe with his will, that we may continue one.
I believe now you think you ſhall make a mighty purchaſe, if you can but procure this Companion to go along with you. It is apparent to you, that this Charity will help and inable you to do all that is commanded you, though it be never ſo much, and hard to be otherwiſe effected. And do you not think that it will make all things eaſie alſo to be done? Alas! it knows no difference between doing and ſuffering but only this, that it chuſes the latter many times as a noble teſtimony to its ſincerity and truth. Nothing will ſeem abſurd, nothing will be thought miſ-becoming, nothing will appear difficult when once you are. in Love. It is well compared to an Artificial Glaſs, which when we look thorow, an enemy ſeems a friend, diſgrace is rendred an honour, and hardſhips look like a pleaſure. The Love of Chriſt, you know, cauſed him to make himſelf of no reputation. It preſerved his Majeſty, and made it ſeem no diſparagement to be ſo low as a ſervant, and to court his Vaſſals. It hath this priviledge, that it cannot be defamed. And it hath this generoſity, that it cannot learn to deny. Aſk any thing of it, and it will make no difficulty to give it. Nay, aſk a Coat, and it will give the Cloak alſo. Aſk it to go a mile with you, and it will go two. Aſk it to forgive one injury, and it will forgive an hundred. Aſk it to render you a ſervice, and it will ſerve you with its whole ſelf. So that I think one of the ancient Guides of the Church had reaſon, who ſaid, Love, and do what thou wilt. Take thine own courſe, ſo that thou doſt but heartily Love. This is a thing ſo powerful, that it withſtands our temperament, and reſiſts our moſt natural inclinations. It claps a new Biaſs upon our hearts; it carries us againſt the ſtream and tide of ſenſitive deſires; it breaks the chains of cuſtom; it roots up inveterate habits; it is of ſuch vaſt force that it makes us vanquiſh our ſelves, and obliges us to deſtroy our own pleaſures that we may pleaſe another. It is ſtrangely bountiful and liberal with all, thinking it can never do enough to make it ſelf known to thoſe whom it loves. From whence it is, that whereas they who live only in a fear and dread of God have ſtarv'd and half dead affections to him, which makes them do but little, and that with a penſiveneſs and ſadneſs, as if they deſired to be excuſed: They whoſe hearts burn with Love to him have all their powers excited thereby to do their beſt for him; and they ſtrain themſelves with the greateſt gladneſs to execute his pleaſure in all things. And to ſay the truth, there is no paſſion of the ſoul, but Love hath it at its full command. They all owe their Original to Love, and would have no being at all if it were not in the ſoul before them. If there were no Love implanted by God in our natures, there would be no deſire, no hatred; no grief, no joy; no fear, no deſpair; for all theſe grow upon this ſingle root, or rather are but Love ſhooting forth in divers ſhapes. They are I ſay but ſeveral motions which Love cauſes; the different figures which it aſſumes according as the object and occaſion requires. It is Love which deſires when the thing is abſent, which hates that which would ſpoil its injoyments; which grieves for the loſs or fears the departure, which deſpairs of the coming or joyes in the preſence of a beloved good. What therefore ſhould that be, which Love cannot do; ſeeing it carries all theſe along with it, and leads the whole ſoul thither, whither it goes it ſelf? It is an active and buſie affection; having as much Vivacity as it hath ſtrength. Its life conſiſts in motion; and like to the Heart it ceaſes to live when it ceaſes to ſtir. It is painted you know with wings and will make you fly rather then go to Jeruſalem. It is like to Fire which is both a greedy and a fierce Element. A very covetous affection I mean, that thinks it never hath enough of that which it deſires; and ſo earneſt and vehement that it never reſts till it hath ſpent it ſelf upon its beloved. It is like the holy fire which God ſent from Heaven, which was found unextinguiſhed at the return from Babylon (as the Hebrews ſay) in the bottom of a Well, all covered with mudd and dirt. Much water from without cannot quench it; and the dulneſs and heavineſs of our own temper cannot repreſs it. But as fire elevates the matter to which it takes though it be never ſo groſs and ponderous: So doth Love raiſe the hearts wherein it makes an impreſſion, and ſtirs them up to actions far ſurmounting their Age, their breeding and condition. There is a certain chearfulneſs alſo in this affection, like to the ſhining and brightneſs of Fire, which contributes much to the augmenting of its activity. It diffuſeth a ſecret joy through the whole ſoul which cannot be diſſembled; but caſts a ſplendor into the countenance of thoſe in whom it reſides. Though Melancholy indeed is ſometimes the companion of other Love, yet it cannot find ſo eaſie acceſs to Divine Charity: For that which the one wants, the other hath, and that which the one doubts of, the other neceſſarily ſuppoſes. Is not this the common cauſe of ſuch ſadneſs, that Love meets with no return from an heart to which it hath given its own, or is in deſpair of overcoming all the obſtacles of its ſatisfaction? But theſe are things that cannot find a place in this heavenborn affection, which is nothing elſe but a return of our Love to God who hath loved us firſt, and thereby given us aſſurance that he is deſirous to be injoyed by us. All the heavineſs then of pious ſouls is when they cannot make ſuch returns as they wiſh, not when they feel this flame within them; for then they are ſtrangely pleaſed and raviſhed with joy, both becauſe it is an effect of the Love of God to them, and becauſe hereby they do actually injoy him. Now as Melancholy and ſadneſs do oppreſs the ſpirits and make us lazy and unwilling to ſtir; ſo this chearfulneſs and lightſomeneſs of mind which Love infuſes do ſet them free, and render us active and vigorous in our motion. Melancholy is a Lethargick humour and binds up all the powers, becauſe its frozen diſpoſition imagines all things impoſſible to be either done or avoided: but chearfulneſs by its heat and warmth gives us ſome degree of confidence that things are not ſo hard to be undertaken; and it thaws, melts and looſens our ſaculties into freedom and liberty, whereby we become of a lively forward and ready diſpoſition. Love therefore being of this pleaſant and chearful nature, you ſee muſt needs both quicken your ſpirit and facilitate your work. Nay it is apt to excite and inſpire others who come near us, and therefore much more our ſelves. Chearfulneſs and the love from whence it ſprings makes our countenance ſmooth and clear, and invites others into our Society. When this paſſion ſtirs in the heart, the face is all over touched with the ſweetneſs of it; which both intices and inlivens thoſe that approach us. How is it poſſible then that we ſhould not feel theſe effects of it our ſelves, that are ſo ſenſible to others? or what heart is there ſo cold and indifferent, that would not be poſſeſſed with this affection which is as uſeful as delightful; and whoſe benefits redound to our neighbours and ſtay not in our ſelves? It will not let us be a terrour to our own ſouls, nor appear with ſuch a diſmal aſpect that we ſhould ſcare and affright others. It will not drive others from Piety while it carries us unto it. It will not ſuffer us to put Religion on the rack that we may look ſevere. And it is far from making us appear ſo, as though we imagined we could not be ſaved, unleſs we make an ugly face.
What ſhall I ſay more? need I tell you that Love is full of imitation and forces us to conform our ſelves to the humour and diſpoſition of him whom we Love? There is a ſtranger property by far then this which will make you open your heart to it; and that is a ſingular Sagacity which it is Maſter of, whereby it knows what is fit to be done without any teaching. If you were fully in the power of it, it would go near to render me of no uſe, being it ſelf inſtead of twenty Maſters. It knows what will pleaſe before it be told and ſees what is acceptable without a director. It hath eyes of its own to find out its way, and by its innate wiſdome would lead you ſtreight to Jeruſalem. It is very skilfull to ſpy out its duty, and hath a quick perception of what is befitting in every paſſage of life. In ſo much that when a man begins to Love, he begins to know how to guide himſelf. His Love will ſuggeſt unto him many things which he ought to do; and be inſtead of a thouſand Monitors to put him upon the doing of them. It will make a man deſcry the leaſt faults in himſelf, though it hide them in others. It notes an undecency with as much ſeverity, as another marks a groſs impurity. It labours to overcome the ſmalleſt infirmity, and weeps more for a mote in its eye, then others do for a beam. Nay it is afflicted for thoſe things which no body ſees, ſave only it ſelf. It bluſhes more for a vain thought, then the reſt of the world do for a monſtrous act. It hath a curioſity about thoſe little circumſtances, which all men are wont to overſee or neglect. Its niceneſs and delicacy is ſo great, that it abhors the very ſhadow of all evil. And it every way ſtrives to adorn it ſelf with ſuch accuracy; that there may not be the leaſt ſpeck to render it leſs fair and beautiful in the eyes of God.
Love therefore I beſeech you, Love as much as ever you are able, if you mean to be happy. Make your heart ready as an Altar, for this Fire from above to deſcend upon it. Prepare your ſelf as a Sacrifice to be offered up in this Holy flame to the Lord of Love. Let all the world know that you are a conſecrated thing: tell it that you cannot entertain its ſute, nor unhallow the place where heaven is pleaſed to dwell. Yield your ſelf a captive to this mighty Conquerour, whereby you will be inabled to conquer all things elſe. Subject your ſelf to the power of that, which will bring the Devil, the World, and the Fleſh under your feet. Let it take away your liberty of doing what you pleaſe, that it may make you free to do as you ought. Poſſeſs it of your ſoul intirely and ſuffer it to inſpire all your deſires and to order all your motions; and it will not fail to poſſeſs you of that bleſſed place to which you wiſh to be conducted. And is this any difficult thing that I require of you? I ſhould rather think that we are highly obliged to God for making the way to Jeruſalem ſo eaſie and our arriving there ſo certain as it is. For Love is the moſt natural and pleaſant thing in the world which will certainly bring us thither, and God being ſo lovely and having loved us ſo much, one would think it ſhould be an eaſie thing to beget it in our hearts. Do you not mark how a Dog loves you, if you do but throw him a bone or ſome ſuch thing, which to you is of no uſe or worth at all? For this he fawns upon you; for this he ſtayes in your houſe, and keeps your door, and defends your goods; this makes him follow you at the heels if you pleaſe, to travel with you long journies, to forſake all other Maſters for your ſervice, and many times to dye with you: though it be a poor thing, which you know not what to do withall, unleſs you caſt it unto him. How can you chuſe then but love Jeſus, and be at his command, and follow his ſteps, and leave all others for his ſake, and even give your life to him; who hath given you not a thing of no value, not that which coſt him nothing, or that which he could not tell what to do withall, but himſelf, his holy blood, his pretious promiſes which it coſt an infinite deal of pain to ſeal and ratifie unto you. Are you ſtill inſenſible of his favours when you think of this? Are you ſtill to learn to Love when ſuch a weight of Love as this doth preſs your heart? If ſuch a thought could enter my mind, I would ſend you to the brutes to be their Scholler, I would call your Spaniel and bid him teach you; I would ceaſe to be your inſtructer any longer, and put you there to learn the affection you owe to your deareſt Lord and Maſter. But your bluſhes bid me ſpare this language and ſeem to aſſure me both that you are aſhamed to owe your vertue to ſuch examples, and that you feel already this flame inkindled in your heart. Feed it I beſeech you continually and let it increaſe unto greater ardors of Love as it will infallibly, if you do but conſider what great things your Saviour hath done for you, and that he is ſtill buſie in procuring your good; and in ſhort, that there is not an hour, not a moment wherein you do not ſtand indebted to him for eternal bleſſings, or for the means of them, or for the grace to help you to attain them.
And indeed the poor Pilgrims heart did beat at ſuch a rate, that it ſeemed to knock againſt his ribs. He was ſet all on fire with theſe words; and at laſt found means to vent himſelf and burſt out in ſuch expreſſions as theſe. O Sir, what have you done! I feel the Love of Jeſus burn ſo vehemently in my breaſt, that I ſhall be devoured by it, if it laſt a moment longer in this force. I have ſcarce any breath left to tell you, that you have made me love your ſelf alſo with a violent paſſion. I have no power no more then deſire, to reſiſt this Almighty Lover of Souls. I render my ſelf his priſoner and wiſh to be eternally held in his chains. You have linkt me to your ſelf too ſo faſt, that I am at once become his ſlave, and your ſervant. I would go to the worlds end to ſeek theſe two Companions Humility and Charity; if they were not already become my gueſts by your means. You have given me a greater treaſure then I thought to find in thoſe few words which I received from you; and methinks I feel already that I am nought, and I have nought, and I deſire nought but Jeſus and Jeruſalem. If it be not abſurd to ſpeak in ſuch terms, I am in love with this Love which you have deſcribed. I ſee methinks Humility and all things elſe in its armes. I embrace them both with all my ſoul. I welcome them with my beſt affections into my heart. And if I had more hearts then one, I would offer them all to the Humble Love of my ſweeteſt Saviour. Go on Sir, as long as you pleaſe; if you have not taught me all my leſſon in teaching me to Love. You have tyed my ears to your tongue and they cannot but liſten to your ſpeech. Nor ſhall I ever feel any wearineſs in hearing of you; for you have made me in Love with your diſcourſe, by breathing the Love of my Lord into my heart.
Here he making a little reſt, the Guide had leave to reſume his office: though he was ſo fill'd with joy to ſee the good effects of what he had ſaid, that it was not eaſie on a ſudden to find room for any other thoughts. The deſire alſo that he felt of ſpeaking ſomething extraordinary on this occaſion, had like to have impoſed ſilence on him, and denyed a paſſage to his words. But his Prudence telling him how neceſſary it was to keep himſelf now from ſuch tranſports, he ſoon reduced himſelf to his uſual temper and thus began to renew his diſcourſe. It is no wonder to find that Jeſus captivates hearts; and that the Love of a dying Saviour is ſo powerful as to inthral them to his ſervice. All that ſurpriſes me is no more then this, that ſuch feeble words as mine ſhould ſo ſenſibly touch your inclinations to him, and with ſuch ſpeed excite ſo high a degree of Love in your heart. It gives me great incouragement to continue my inſtructions, and affords no leſs incouragement to your ſelf to continue your attention; For if you are already under the power of Love by what hath been now delivered, I ſhall make you love unmeaſurably before I have finiſhed this diſcourſe. You have ſeen but half of the riches of that golden ſentence, and there are greater ſecrets ſtill behind in thoſe two pretious words which are at the concluſion of it. For I pray you ſatisfie me in this demand; Have you well conſidered what Jeruſalem is, to which you now direct your face? I will not ſtay for your anſwer, but proceed to tell you that I am now going to give you ſuch an Idaea of it, that if you keep it freſh in your mind, you cannot imagine how it will ſnatch you from the world and heighten your love unto your Saviour, and lift you quite out of your own will, if you had a mind to fall into it back again. And truly I cannot think that you ſhould have any great liſt to travel long, or that you ſhould not ſoon feel a wearineſs to invade your members; if you go you know not whither, and carry not along with you a true information of the happy repoſe, you are like to meet withall at your journies end. Let Jeruſalem then be the ſubject of our next diſcourſe, and ſuffer your eyes to be drawn to that bleſſed place, which I believe you have often heard commended, as the Perfection of Beauty and the Joy of the whole earth.