The Parable of the Pilgrim, Parable · Chapter 15
CAP. XV.
A Deſcription of Jeſus', who is the true Way to Jeruſalem. In which he is propounded to the Pilgrims imitation.
ANd firſt I muſt ſet this Jeſus before your eyes as one that was dead to theſe outward things while he lived among them; and that withdrew his heart from the world while he converſed with it. He was not a perſon cloyſter'd and retir'd from the ſociety of men. He led not an Anchorets life, which obliged him to ſhun their company. Nor did he put on a ſullen gravity that ſhould affright men from his fellowſhip; but he uſed the greateſt freedom, and treated men with ſuch familiarity, that he invited them into it. He did eat and drink as other men do; he refuſed not their invitation when they were deſirous to entertain him, and even at a Marriage he denyed not to be a Gueſt when his preſence was welcome to them. He had opportunities of inriching himſelf as well as other men. Honours would have waited upon him if he had pleaſed, without a Miracle. It depended upon himſelf alone to become the greateſt man in the world. And the pleaſures which others ſeek would have purſued him, if he had but given them encouragement. Herein he made himſelf glorious, and hath left us a noble example; that he was mortified to all theſe carnal delights, when they were ready to thruſt themſelves upon him; that he denyed the deſires of wealth, when it would coſt him no more pains, than to receive it; and that he refuſed all the Kingdoms of the world, which would have eaſily diſpoſed themſelves to his obedience. He walkt into Cities and Towns; and was ſtill as unſpotted from the world, as he was in a wilderneſs. He lived in the thickeſt of its temptations; but none of them could faſten or ſtick upon him. He had power at will, and his will ſet bounds to it when it had none of its own. He was a Soveraign Lord, but made no advantage thereby, ſave only to be better, and to do more good than any of his ſubjects. He uſed greater moderation in all injoyments, than thoſe did on whom he beſtowed them. He lived in a ſenſe of the Spiritual World, while he was a man of this, and incompaſſed about with our infirmities. He was a ſtranger to all the evil manners and cuſtoms of men while he was familiar with themſelves; and he teſtified againſt their wicked deeds while he kept them company: Nay he purified many by his example, remaining uncorrupted by any of theirs. And truly ſuch a life it is that you are to lead. Your way to Jeruſalem lyes through the World. You muſt not think to ſtep into none but Religious Houſes, or to fall into no company, but that of the Pious: much leſs muſt you expect to lye immur'd from the ſpectacles of Vanity; and to ſecure your ſelf from temptations within the incloſure of high walls which they cannot climb over to approach you. But your manner of life will lead you through the crowd: your way will bring you into open fields, and expoſe you oftentimes to the throng of ſenſual objects; againſt which you will have no defence but your own valourous reſolution. You will not be able to refuſe them your company, or to paſs along without their acquaintance. It will not be at your choice whether you will ſee, and hear, and feel thoſe things that are amiable and delightful: nor can you ſtop your ears ſo cloſe but you will perceive they invite you to a friendſhip with them. Your ſkill and your courage therefore conſiſts in this; that in imitation of your Maſter Jeſus you live and converſe with all theſe things as a man that is Dead. You muſt keep them company in ſuch a ſort, that they may find it is but the ſhadow of you that is among them, and that they do not poſſeſs your ſelf. Let them know that they may as well invite a Ghoſt to their intemperance, uncleanneſs and greedineſs of the world, as waſte their time in ſolliciting of your affection. Make them feel, that is but half of you and the worſer half which walks among them; and that it is impoſſible they ſhould have the better part. Let men have your company, but be not partaker with them in their ſins. Follow your affairs like other folk, but take heed and beware of covetouſneſs, and watch that you be not overtaken with ſurfeiting and drunkenneſs or the cares of this life. Let the World underſtand that you can ſee it every day, and not fall in love with it: that you can deal and traffique with it if need be, and yet not be unrighteous: that you can behold all its honours and not be ambitious: that you need not hide your eyes from its beauties, and yet retain your own and live in purity of heart. Beware of pleaſing and humouring any of your ſenſes. Suffer them not to feed too greedily upon any object, leſt your ſoul be inchanted and caſt into a forgetfulneſs of Jeruſalem. And remember alwayes that you are to ſue all theſe earthly things rather of neceſſity, then of choice: and to afford them your company but not your friendſhip.
And this, let me tell you, is a more excellent and uſeful life, I may add more laborious too, then any other; though the auſterities of Monks and Hermites ſeem ſo grievous and horribly affrighting. Notwithſtanding all the ſharpneſs they injoyn themſelves, they reap a great deal of eaſe who are ſequeſtred from publick offices and live without the incumbrance of many affairs. Though their Rules to which they are tyed appear ſo rigorous, yet they are neither ſo many in number, nor ſo thorny in their nature, nor have ſo many faces, as thoſe which bind a man of exact integrity in civil life. They have but a few things to imploy them, and he is ingaged in a multitude: and they have the ſame things to do over again, but his rules vary with a thouſand circumſtances. It is a pleaſure to avoid the pains of well doing among thoſe that are evil. It is a repoſe to have but few enemies and thoſe ſuch as have been beaten an hundred times. Theſe people may have ſome other glory, but that of overcoming difficulties methinks belongs not to them. Moderation is a vertue much more toilſome, then their Sufferance. That hath a thouſand ſeveral faſhions, whereas this hath no more then one. It is no wonder that a man ſhould be good where he ſees nothing that is bad. He may well keep his innocence where it is hard to loſe it: and ſoon ſecure his ſoul when there is nothing offers to rob him of it. He is a very unfortunate man (as I have heard ſomebody well expreſs it) who drowns himſelf in that place, where he can ſcarce find water enough to quench his thirſt. His hap is exceeding hard who ſhall take a ſurfet, where there is ſcarce ſo much victuals as will break ones faſt, But when we are throng'd with temptations, and beſet with enemies; when there is a battery planted againſt every gate, and not one of our ſenſes is free from aſſault: then it is a buſineſs of ſome labour and it deſerves praiſe, to ſecure our ſouls and to defend them bravely in ſuch a violent ſtorm. To eſcape drowning when we are upon the Sea, when the winds are boiſterous, the channel dangerous, and we are caſt among rocks and have ſhelves and quickſands very near us on the right hand and on the left; is a buſineſs that calls for an excellent ſkill, and a very even ſteerage, and ſuch an experience as cannot be learned without a great deal of pains and diligence. Then Piety will thank us for our Love, when we are courted by Vice. And we ſhall ſeem to have done ſome honour to Goodneſs by cleaving to her, when we had large offers to become bad. So that I cannot ſee by what merit the Secluſe do aſſume to themſelves the title of Religious more then others: ſeeing they give a greater proof of their Vertue who are in the World and the World is not in them; then thoſe in whom indeed the World is not, but they alſo are not in the World. It is more glorious to beat an enemy, then to fly away from him; and it requires a greater ſpirit to maintain a Breach, then to hold out within the Walls.
Not that I diſcommend Solitude at your firſt ſetting out, or would have you neglect it at certain ſeaſons through your whole journey (for you ſhall know the uſe of it better hereafter) but it is not fit to deſign to live alwayes in ſecret, if it be poſſible to live and be ſafe in the World. This I would have you think is the more perfect life and more like to our Saviours: and therefore aſpire to it; and ſtay not in the other any longer, then only to fit and prepare your ſelf for this. And tell me I beſeech you; do you not think it poſſible for a man to have his heart in the World when his legs and arms are out of it? May it not dwell in his fancy when he ſees it not with his eyes? May he not pleaſe himſelf in the ſhaddow and image of his old friend which he ſayes is dead and buried? May not one leave his ſoul behind when he withdraws his body from all the World? I wiſh there be not many of ſuch Religious men and women. As on the contrary I hope there are not a few whoſe minds and hearts are ſhut up from the World, though they are with it every day. Who have made a Cloyſter for their ſouls, while their bodies are at liberty. Who bridle their appetites and lay reſtraints on their deſires; though they live at large and are under no Vow but that of their Baptiſm.
Conſider therefore how ridiculous it is to imitate another ſort of men, who hearing us ſpeak of forſaking the World, and renouncing all its Pomps and Vanities; imagine that they ſhould throw away their rich garments, forbear the civility of a complement or ſo much as a ſalutation, let their Gardens become wilderneſſes, and their Pictures make fires, with abundance of ſuch like follies. Alas! what have theſe poor things done that we ſhould revenge our ſelves upon them? what is their guilt that we ſhould be ſo ſevere and fierce againſt them? Is this the mortification the Scripture ſpeaks of to execute our anger upon inſenſible things? It would ſeem more reaſonable if when a man reads of crucifying the fleſh, he ſhould go and pierce his own body and ſtrike nails through his hands and his feet. And yet what blame doth it lye under, that we ſhould put it to that torment? or what is that which we kill by ſuch cruelty? No, no, we muſt turn the blow another way. We muſt cut off our affections from theſe worldly enjoyments. We muſt walk in the fleſh, but not after it. We may feel its deſires, but not follow them. We muſt labour to become poor in the midſt of abundance; to be humble in high places; to be temperate amongſt the baits of pleaſure; to uſe thoſe things well which cuſtome hath abuſed; to think of our ſelves in fine clothes, juſt as we did before they came on our backs. And in a few words, to withdraw our ſelves from all the inveiglements of the world, not in the common way of removing our perſons from it, but by removing it from our eſteem and affections.
But I am affraid of running into that errour which I purpoſed to avoid, if I ſhould continue to give ſuch a large and punctual account of all that the Good man ſaid in this Argument. And therefore I will keep more exactly to my method in what inſues and contract the reſt of his diſcourſes concerning Jeſus.
You muſt look upon Jeſus (proceeded he) in the next place, as a perſon that was highly contented and very liberal in the midſt of the greateſt Poverty. It would have been little leſs then a wonder (as the world now goes) if I had ſaid that he thought he had enough though all the ground he trod upon had been his own; and that he was bountiful though he had been able to pave his way with Silver and Gold. But he hath left us an higher pattern and taught us even in our Poverty to be charitable to thoſe who are reduced to greater neceſſities, and in the meaneſt condition to be better pleaſed, then worldly men are in the greateſt ſuperfluities and abundance. He had no lands nor yearly revenues, and yet the Hoſpitality was noble which he maintained. His incomes were uncertain, and yet he never complain'd or troubled his mind becauſe his eſtate was no better aſſured. His Diſciples were men of a ſmall fortune, and yet he labours to infuſe into them a moſt liberal diſpoſition. He ſtuck not to ſpend all the victuals he had upon the hungry multitude. He choſe to lay out the whole proviſion of his numerous family in one feaſt, rather then ſuffer them to faint who were come to hear his Word. Though he lived as a Begger himſelf, yet he kept a purſe for the Poor. Though he was ſupported by the Charity of others, yet he would be no more then their Steward and receive their Alms to give it away. Great perſons miniſtred to him, but he himſelf was the Miniſter of all. His Poverty might have inriched himſelf, but he choſe by it to inrich others. And this truly ſeems to have been the proper effect of his being dead to the World. He felt no need of its Riches, and ſo he did not covet them. And he did not let them into his heart when they came to him, and ſo he was not unwilling to part with them. He thought the goodneſs of all theſe things conſiſted in their Uſe; and he knew no better imployment for them, then to ſend them to ſerve thoſe who were preſſed with want. You cannot therefore better pleaſe him, then by imitating this bounteous diſpoſition. There will nothing more indear you to him, then ſuch a generoſity, which may ſhew it ſelf in a mean as well as in a plentiful fortune. Do you not obſerve what praiſes he beſtows upon a poor widow who had caſt all her living into the publick ſtock? It ſeems to me that this was a more pleaſing ſpectacle to him, then all the offerings of the Rich. Read but his famous Sermon which he made to his followers, and there you will find ſo many precepts of taking no care for meat and drink and clothes; and of giving away hoping for nothing again, that you will think he had a mind to recommend to them this contentedneſs and Charity above all things elſe. And leaſt you ſhould fancy that all the acts of his Charity were miracles, which are no examples to us; or be like the Hypocrites who imagine his precepts were given to upbraid our weakneſs and reproach to us our fall, rather then to direct our practiſe: obſerve the ſmart Queſtion which he aſks toward the concluſion of that Sermon, Why call you me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I ſay? Luk. 6.46.As if he ſhould have ſaid; are you not aſhamed to call me your Maſter and yet do nothing that I command? What miſchief is this, that you ſhould acknowledge mine Authority, and yet not be governed by my Will? Away with this Hypocriſie; Cali me Lord no more, when you will neither do as I ſay, nor as I do. The very ſame words ſhould I now ſay to you, if I did not think that you were reſolved to tread in his ſteps; and that you eſteemed poverty with contentment the greateſt riches; and a liberal heart with a ſmall eſtate, the largeſt poſſeſſions. You will not fail I know to ſcatter your Charity as you go along to Jeruſalem. If you meet with any diſtreſſed perſon in your way; you will be ſure to do like the good Samaritan and provide for his health and deliverance. Nay, ſpare not to ſeek for opportunities to do good: and ſince we live in an ill natur'd and hard-hearted age, let your light ſo ſhine before men that they may ſee Jeſus ſtill in the world. And indeed I have often beheld to my great aſtoniſhment a poor Pilgrim give more largely to a charitable uſe, then a perſon of high condition in the World. There are many Rich Gluttons who will beſtow more upon their Dogs, then upon a needy Lazarus. I have heard men wonder they are not aſhamed to ſee themſelves out-done by people of a meaner rank; and that they do not fear the bowels of the Poor will groan againſt them and complain to heaven of their unmercifulneſs: But ſo it is, that they have hardned their own bowels toward them, and think that heaven is as inſenſible of all their cryes as themſelves. Their hearts are as cold as ſtones; and you may as ſoon move a Statue to do good as one of theſe Images of men. They are not crucified to the world, but they are killed in her embraces and ſhe hath hug'd them to death in her arms. The world hath poured too many of her favours upon them and preſſed them to death with the weight of Silver and Gold. Their hands are faſt cloſed, their fingers are ſtiff and rigid: they hold their money ſo hard, that a dead mans hand cannot be more inflexible, nor hold that thing harder which he graſps when he is juſt expiring. Nothing but the example of the Lord of Life will be of any power to get them open. There is none but himſelf can breathe ſuch a ſpirit into them, as will looſen the cold bands of death, and make them ſtretch forth themſelves to the relief of their periſhing neighbours. Propound therefore this pattern every where in your practice: and if men like not to be the followers of Chriſt on theſe terms, tell them they muſt look for their wages at the Devils hands. He hath as faſt hold of thoſe miſers ſouls, as they have of their money. Hell is as greedy as their deſires. It gapes for them, as they do inſatiably for Riches. And beſides, if there be any truth in our ſacred Books, they, and their riches, and their poſterity, ſhall rot and become as vile as thoſe whoſe miſeries they will not pitty.
And when you have well affected your heart with this heavenly-minded and compaſſionate Jeſus, then turn your eyes to another ſight, and behold in him the deepeſt humility, and the moſt profound lowlineſs of mind, joyned with the greateſt perfections, and higheſt abilities that ever any man had. If there were ever any man in the world that had cauſe to bear himſelf high, this was the perſon. His indowments were divine; his reaſons were inſpirations; his words were oracles; and yet blocks and truncks are wont now to lift up themſelves higher in their own conceit than he could be tempted to do. Never had any one ſo large a knowledge, that boaſted ſo little of it. His power was not to be equall'd on earth, and yet it did not domineen over the meaneſt creature. He could do what he would with a word; but would not imploy the leaſt breath in his own praiſes. The very hemm of his garment was thought to be of a miraculous virtue, but it was touched with pride as much as himſelf. The wonders which he did, were alwaies accompanied with another wonder, that he took not the honour of them, but gave it to God. He was dead indeed not only to the outward world, but alſo to himſelf. He was not only inſenſible of the blandiſhments of fleſhly pleaſures, but of the flatteries of ſpiritual pride. He wrought ſuch Miracles as to raiſe the dead, but they could never raiſe any ſelf-conceit, nor give vain-glory in him any life. He would have concealed his works, if Gods Glory had not been concerned in them more than his own. He would have ſtopt the peoples mouth as well as his own breath; and ſtifled ſame as much as others ſeek to give it air, if it had not been for the good of the world that he ſhould be known. And therefore when the fame of him did fly abroad, it could carry no other news but that he was as humble as he was great. When he was ſo high in the peoples eſteem, that they would have advanced him to be a King, he choſe rather to remain a private man: When they would have carried him into a Pallace, and made him a Court, he liked better to ſteal away into a Deſart. Poor men were his Companions; Fiſhermen and the meaner ſort he took for his Attendants. When he was in his greateſt triumph, he was meek and lowly riding upon an Aſs. When his ears was filled with Hoſanna's, he was going to humble himſelf to the ſhameful death of the Croſs. He was in truth no other than the King of courteſie and humility. A Prince that liſtned to the petitions of the pooreſt Supplicants; that ſtood ſtill to hear the cryes of blind Beggars; that would not refuſe a work of Charity becauſe of its vileneſs; and in one word, that ſtooped ſo low as to waſh his Diſciples feet, which was the meaneſt office of a ſervant. I need not tell you ſure for what purpoſe he did this, ſeeing he himſelf hath ſaved me the labour by that ſpeech of his to thoſe whom he had ſo waſhed,Joh. 13.2… I have given you an example, that you ſhould do as I have done to you. Let me ſay to you therefore as he doth preſently after to thoſe perſons, If you know theſe things, Verſ. 17.happy are you if you do them. You muſt lay your ſelf as low as the duſt you tread upon in the way to Jeruſalem. You muſt not ſtudy Fame ſo much as Virtue. You muſt acknowledge God in all, and magnifie your ſelf in nothing. You muſt raiſe a name to him, and not ſeek your own renown. When you are praiſed, you muſt be the ſame that you are when men diſcommend you. You muſt think it dangerous to aſpire to honours, and hunt after promotions. Let them find you as unwilling to receive them, as others are to forbear their Courtſhip towards them. Condeſcend to men of low eſtate, and ſort your ſelf familiarly with thoſe who are below you. Let the poor never be the object of your ſcorn, but think that pride doth render you poorer and more deſpicable than them. Remember to ſtoop to the meaneſt offices of Love, whereby you may ſerve your Brethren; and when you have done them, think that they are to be done again when their needs require them. And that I may not ſeem to impoſe any heavy burden upon you, do but look at Jeruſalem, and ſee how Jeſus is advanced by humbling himſelf; and you will not need any exhortation to this Virtue which before I ſo much praiſed, and now again commend to your affection. Many of the Angels, they ſay, made it their ſtudy to raiſe themſelves higher than they were, but miſcarried in the enterpriſe, and were not able to effect it. They tryed their wings, and began to ſoar aloſt, but they failed them ſadly, and let them ſuffer a ſhameful fall. But Jeſus, on the contrary, ſtudied to be a great deal lower than he was; not only lower than the Angels, but inferiour to men, even the vileſt of men. The iſſue of which was, that you ſee him exalted at Gods right hand, and he hath raiſed himſelf thereby, not only to the places from whence thoſe Angels fell; but to ſuch a dignity that he is higher than all principalities and powers, and hath the nobleſt creatures put in ſubjection under his feet. Be a follower of Jeſus therefore in his Humility, depreſſing your ſelf as low as you can in your own thoughts; for that is the way to raiſe your ſelf to the higheſt pitch of Glory, and to be made equal to the Angels of God, who have kept their ſtation, and alwaies had their dwelling at Jeruſalem. And it may not be amiſs the more effectually to excite you, if you conſider how thoſe noble perſons have preſerved their firſt habitation, and remained ſo long in the Caeleſtial Court. Was it not by humbling themſelves to the meaneſt imployments, to which the Soveraign of all orders and ranks of being in the world was pleaſed to aſſign them? Are they not content to come and wait upon the pooreſt of us, and to ſerve as a Guard to the moſt abject of the Sons of Men? Let us not refuſe then to ſubmit to any condition of life, wherein our wiſe Governour thinks good to place us, nor imagine any office below us, in which we may be uſeful and ſerviceable to our neighbours. If we had no greater example than the Angels, it might well be expected that we ſhould not diſdain to appear in the meaneſt dreſs; but ſince the Lord of them all is pleaſed to become our pattern, and to abaſe himſelf far lower than they, it ſhould make us love to be all over covered with this Humility, and to eſteem it the moſt glorious Robe that we can wear. And truly if our hearts were touched with ſuch a Charity to others as He was indued withall, we ſhould not ſtick to bow our ſelves, though we were never ſo high, to the vileſt ſervices, for the ſuccour and help of thoſe whoſe miſeries implored our aſſiſtance.
Let me propoſe to you therefore the bleſſed Jeſus in the next place, as a perſon that was very full of love, tenderneſs and bowels of compaſſion towards thoſe that deſerved nothing, nay, towards thoſe that deſerved ill at his hands. He was ſo diſpoſed to do good, that they could not miſs of his kindneſs, who neither deſired it, nor were willing when it was offered to receive it. He did not only pitty the weakneſs and infirmity of his Diſciples; but had a feeling of the ſufferings of thoſe who were ſtrangers: neither was he only kind and benigne towards Supplicants; but his heart was tender to the perverſe, untoward, and ungrateful people. There was nothing of roughneſs, ſowreneſs and uncivility in his manners; but they were ſmooth, ſweet and full of Courteſie. His heart was not at all pinched and narrowed by the Love of himſelf; but it was inlarged into ſuch an univerſal Charity, that he ſeemed to forget his own concerns, the better to provide for the good of others. The Inſtances of his benignity and good nature are ſo many, that to reckon them all, would be as long as to tell a ſtory of his whole life; for he went about doing good. It was his work and imployment to do benefits to the world. He was the Sun of Righteouſneſs, that run a long race for no other prize, but only to have the honour of ſpending his beams. He rejoyced to ſpread his healing wings over every place. It was his pleaſure to ſhed his influences, and to make all that ſaw him ſenſible of his flames. The Patients that ſolicited his healing-power were innumerable; and the Cures which he wrought were not fewer than they. He lived all his time in a kind of Hoſpital; being thronged with ſick men, with Lazers, and other diſeaſed folks. And though it were turned ſometimes to a Bedlam, by the company of Daemoniacks, and phrenetical people; yet he never complained of the burden, but chearfully entertained the occaſion of putting them in poſſeſſion of their wits again. Never did he ſend any man away without ſatisfaction to his deſires; but he caſt out Devils, cleanſed their Leproſies, cured their Palſies, untied the tongue of the dumb, opened the eyes of the blind, reſtored feet to the lame; and beſides, relieved their neceſſities, had compaſſion on their hunger, and fed their bodies and their ſouls both together. The whole Country ſeemed to be his family, and if he had been the Father of them all, he could not have been more tender, or yearned with greater bowels of mercy towards them. The oppoſition and contradiction of brutiſh men did not alter the ſweetneſs of his diſpoſition towards them; but he continued to do them good, to beſeech and entreat them, to weep over them, and ſigh for their Infidelity. And when it grew to ſuch an height, that they ſought to kill him who had ſaved the lives of ſo many; yet ſo great was his Charity, that he paſſed by their offences; ſought not for revenge, which it was eaſie for him to find; and to ſpeak all in one word, forgave the moſt ungrateful enemies that ever were. I believe you will eaſily grant, that it is a matter of leſs difficultie to forgive the injuries we receive from one that never was obliged to us; then to pardon him to whom we have expreſſed the greateſt kindneſs, and uſed with the higheſt civility, eſpecially if his malice ariſe ſo high as to ſeek our life. And yet ſo loving was our Lord, and ſo deſirous to ſet us a noble example; that he never expreſſed greater Charity, than when he had the greateſt reaſon to be incenſed. He freely remitted the wrongs of thoſe who not only hated him without a cauſe, but who had great cauſe to love him above all the world. And though the wrongs were as great as the benefits he had beſtowed, and they were beyond all meaſure; yet as his benefits did not make them become his friends, ſo their wrongs could not make him become their enemy. What greater malignity is there than that which moves men to bereave others of their life? and what greater Charity than that which endeavours to preſerve it? We can conceive of none higher, unleſs it be this, to ſacrifice our own life for the preſerving of other mens; eſpecially of theirs that take it away. And ſuch was the Love of our Lord, who was ſo great a friend to ſo great enemies as ſought for that which he was ready to offer for them. You know very well his words upon the Croſs, when he made interceſſion for the tranſgreſſors, ſaying, Father, forgive them. Could he more effectually at that time teſtifie his kindneſs than by ſuch an indulgence in the midſt of their cruelty toward him? What do we expect more from a Parent, than that he ſhould overlook the faults of his children when they repent and ſubmit themſelves to him? And yet our Lord uſes theſe men with greater clemency, and gives them his pardon whilſt they were committing of the fault. Nay, he not only forgave them himſelf; but deſires God to grant them remiſſion too, that he might be the only ſufferer, and they be free from puniſhment.
You ſee then how your way lyes if you will travel to Jeruſalem and deſire to be with Jeſus. The roughneſs of your way and the aſperities of mens manners, muſt not ſpoil the ſmoothneſs of your ſoul nor exaſperate your ſpirit: but you muſt be loving and kind to all, even to the greateſt offenders. Nay, if your nature be crabbed and auſtere, you muſt look ſo ſtedfaſtly upon Jeſus and ſteep your thoughts ſo long there, till he infuſe himſelf into you and change the harſhneſs of your diſpoſition into a ſweeter humour. The way to Jeruſalem I aſſure you is full of ſad ſpectacles which will afford you no other pleaſure but that of having a tender ſenſe of their miſeries and doing of them good. You muſt be civil and affable to every one you meet upon the rode. You muſt pitty and ſuccour thoſe who are ready to periſh. You muſt counſel and adviſe the Ignorant and thoſe who are out of the way. You muſt bleſs thoſe that throw a curſe at you as you go along. You muſt pray for thoſe that do you wrong. And if any fellow-traveller to whom you have afforded your help ſhould prove a robber and make an aſſault upon you; you muſt ſtill preſerve your love to him and not ſuffer him to rifle you of your grace to forgive him. And indeed when we conſider how much more reaſon there is that we ſhould do good to others, then that God ſhould do good to us; and when we think alſo how much more he hath done for us then we can do for others; and when we remember withall that they are our equals in the chiefeſt things, and that in ſome they may be our ſuperiours, when as he is ſo much above us in all; it will ſet our hearts wide open and make them free and generous, though they were never ſo faſt locked and barred before; and render them ſoft and tender though they were as hard and ſtubborn as bolts of Iron. We ſhall not then be backward to forgive injuries, to do good to enemies, to repay wrongs with courteſies, to bear with mens folly and weakneſs, to envy no mans proſperity, but to rejoyce in the good of all as if it were our own happineſs. But poor Pilgrims will find themſelves in ſuch need of the charitable help and comfort of others, that I think it is not neceſſary to preſs you any further to this thing which will be nothing more, then to do to all as you would that all ſhould do to you.
Let me therefore proceed to tell you how Jeſus bore the contumelies, reproaches, and ſlanders of others with the greateſt meekneſs, though he was a perſon of the greateſt quality, and of the higheſt dignity and worth. No man ever did things with a better grace or deſerved more to be accepted with admiration and praiſe; and yet there never was any perſon entertained with greater ſcorn, or ſuffered more obloquies and ignominious uſage from the World. But did he receive them with that choler and wrath which they who call themſelves High Spirits do ſuffer their ſouls to be tranſported with all? No ſuch matter; but he was dumb as a Lamb before the ſhearers and did not ſo much as open his mouth; though conſidering his high birth and the manner of other men, he was tempted to roar like a Lyon and ſpeak with a voice of thunder againſt his inſolent deſpiſers. I will not recite all the vilifying language, nor give you a catalogue of the contemptuous actions which he was affronted with; but leave it to your own diligence to obſerve them, and together therwith the mildneſs of his ſpirit and the admirable temper and moderation of his mind in the ſharpeſt provocations to anger and diſpleaſure. When they called him Devil he confuted the calumny by not ſuffering the leaſt ſpark of that helliſh fire to kindle. When they ſaid he was an impoſtor and came to deceive the world, he was only excited thereby more boldly to ſpeak the Truth. And when they charged him with treaſon he aſſerted his innocency by no other means, then ſubjection of himſelf to the vileſt death. When they ſcourged him on the back and buffeted his face; he did not return them ſo much as a laſh or a blow with his tongue. When they committed all the outrages that could be deviſed upon him, they only ſerved to prove how free he was from paſſion and rage. Which methinks ſhould be ſufficient to cool the boiling heats of the fierceſt ſpirits; and to quench the intemperate fires that burn in the moſt inraged minds. There is no man that can boaſt of ſuch an extraction as his, or that can indure ſuch indignities: and therefore it is inſufferable that mens paſſion and anger ſhould take countenance from the quality of their perſons or the quality of the reproaches that are offered to them. No, the nobleſt men in the World ought to extinguiſh theſe flames by ſuch a glorious example, and to put up offences and ſcorns quietly without anſwering and returning the like again. And I beſeech you to learn this leſſon well if ever you mean to arrive at Jeruſalem. You will have very great uſe of it, and will find it impoſſible to hold on in your journey unleſs you be fortified with this meekneſs of ſpirit and can be content to be deſpiſed and ſet at naught, to be eſteemed a fool, an ideot, or any thing elſe that men pleaſe to call you while you are about Gods buſineſs and doing his will among them. The very way to Jeruſalem is loadned with many reproaches, and therefore they who are in it muſt not expect to have a priviledge of ſuſtaining none of them. A man cannot take a Pilgrimage through ſuch a world as this, and meet with no affront and unworthy uſage in his paſſage. Your very habit and faſhion, I mean your manners and courſe of life are ſo different from theirs, that they will not love you, though in all things elſe you pleaſe them well enough. A mortified life is a reproach to thoſe who are diſſolute. And if they cannot find in their heart to diſcommend Jeruſalem, it is a grievous rebuke to them that they do not travel with you thither. You diſturb them ſo much, that you muſt either have their company, or their calumnies. They muſt either do well, or ſpeak ill of your doings. They are exaſperated hereby to ſlander you, that they may juſtifie themſelves; and to follow you with backbiting language, to excuſe their not following of your pious life.
It is the part now of a gallant ſpirit to deſpiſe their revilings as much as they deſpiſe you. You cannot expreſs greater magnanimity then to neglect theſe little barkings, and not ſo much as lift up your ſtaff againſt thoſe that purſue you with them. Let them know that they are below your anger, and that your reſolution is not to be moved by their petulant ſpeeches. As you think that Temples and Kings Pallaces are not diſhonoured when the dogs that come by do lift up their legs againſt them;Julian. Orat. ſo you muſt not think your ſelf the worſe for the diſreſpects, the aſperſions and contemptuous language that you meet withall in the world; but be as little concerned in them as you are in the rudeneſs of thoſe impudent creatures. Let them not have ſo much power over you as to make your tongue ſtir, unleſs it be to bleſs them: impoſe a perfect ſilence on your ſelf except it be to ſpeak to God and not to anſwer them. But of this ill treatment which you muſt expect, and your meek indurance of it, I ſhall have further occaſion to admoniſh you ſome other time.
Let me now lead you to take a ſhort glance of his admirable Patience under unheard-of ſufferings, though he was a perſon no leſs ſenſible of pain, then he was innocent and deſerved to be freed from it. For which I ſhall refer you to the Hiſtory of his bloody and cruel Death where you will behold an heart ſo reſigned to God, that the greateſt torments could not make it recoil back into Self, nor ſeek for eaſe in any other place then in union with his Will. All that I ſhall ſay in this argument is, that you muſt learn thereby to indure all things with a conſtant ſubmiſſion to the Divine pleaſure and appointment, without thoſe murmurings and complaints which are apt to accompany the croſſing of our Deſire. For we have a great deal more reaſon to do ſo then He, in as much as though we may be innocent toward men, yet we are not ſo toward God; and if our offences were puniſhed according to our deſert, they would receive a ſharper chaſtiſement then that which we indure. He ſuffered for well doing, and we for ill; He bore other mens faults and we our own; he indured much and we little: and therefore it will be a great ſhame if when our ſufferings are little, our repineings are great, and when we ſuffer what we deſerve, it makes us ſo reſtleſs and impatient that we add to our ill deſervings. I pray you therefore to fortifie your ſelf with a great ſtock of this Vertue of Patience, for I muſt tell you ere long a number of things that will try its mettle, and ſhow you in what great need you will ſtand of it in your way to Jeruſalem.
For the preſent I will divert your thoughts from theſe ſad ſpectacles and carry you to more pleaſant contemplations. Behold then how Jeſus was much with God by Meditation, Prayer and devout affection, in the midſt of all his buſineſs, and in a great crowd of followers and attendants. He lived as I ſaid in the World but in that he ſought for ſolitary places and abſtracted thoughts. When he was with the people He never forgat God: upon all occaſions He took notice of him, and in whatſoever he did acknowledged him. But beſides he deviſed many times of retirement, and was wont upon a remove to ſend his Diſciples away before, that he might ſtay alone with him. Nay ſo deſirous he was of this heavenly Solitude, that ſometimes he continued a whole night together in Prayer and holy thoughts. And ſo truly would I have you do in your Travels: Take the advantage of any Shades or Groves that you ſhall meet withall, for ſecret conference and diſcourſe between God and your Soul. Repoſe your ſelf as long as you can in thoſe cool and ſtill places, and there invite heaven into your Society and prepare your ſelf for the preſent it will make you of the beſt of its bleſſings. Nay, I would have you form to your ſelf ſuch occaſions as oft as you are able, and contrive opportunities for privacy and incloſed thoughts. Build a great many little Arbours with your own hands, into which you may withdraw your ſelf and be alone. Get out of the throng, and make all affairs give way to the intertainment that God will give your ſoul in his bleſſed company. Bid them ſtand aſide a while and not preſume to diſturb the buſineſs which you have above. Let every thing underſtand that you are entred into an holy place, whither they muſt not dare to approach. And when you are thus ſequeſtred, let me tell you this for your comfort, that you will have the faireſt proſpect before your eyes that is to be found on this ſide Jeruſalem. You will ſee the Glory of God that ſhines in all the world; you will hear the muſick which all his creatures make in his praiſe; you will be raviſhed with the taſte of his goodneſs which you will feel him pouring out on every ſide; and in one word you will behold ſo much of the Beauty of Jeruſalem it ſelf, that you will travel with the better courage thither. But that in which I would have you ſpend the greateſt part of thoſe private ſeaſons, is in thinking of your own eſtate and comparing your life with the life of Jeſus. Let him be your companion when you are alone: look ſtedfaſtly on his face and obſerve what reſemblance you bear to him. Pray him to draw and deſcribe himſelf more exactly upon your ſoul, and to ſupply all the lines that are ſtill wanting to render you an accompliſhed image of him. Shew him how deſirous you are to be conformed in all your thoughts, words, deſires and actions to that excellent model of perfection which he hath given you in his own example. Let him know how much you are in love with him, and that you wiſh for this above all the world, to be like to him. It cannot be thought that he will deny your deſires, or let your indeavours want his help for the making you more compleat in him. You will come out of theſe ſecret places with a greater luſtre and iſſue forth with a greater force and power to follow the ſteps of your Saviour. Your face will be indued with ſuch a brightneſs and caſt ſuch a ſplendor round about, that it will be ſeen by all that you have been with Jeſus. Who can expreſs the pleaſures that hide themſelves in theſe retreats? or tell the contentments that are locked up in thoſe unfrequented cloſets? Do but enter into the firſt of them that preſents it ſelf, and there will need nothing more then the ſenſible delectation which you will find in it, to invite you to ſeek ſuch ſilent retirements. Theſe quiet places are the reſemblances of the ſerene regions above, and little models of heaven. They are hung round about alſo with a great many Pictures of Jeſus which will raviſh your heart and draw it out of your body to ſnatch it up to himſelf. In one corner you will ſee him pictured as the Lover of men; and in another you will behold him in the greateſt abaſement and humility that ever was. On this ſide you will ſee him dealing his Charity to the Poor, and on that he will diſcover himſelf attending on the ſick. Here his Meekneſs, there his Patience will be lively repreſented to your eyes. In one place you will find him pouring out his Inſtructions, and in another pouring out his Blood for the Good of men. And from every one of theſe you will receive ſuch touches and feel your heart ſo wounded; that you will never be more inamoured of him then when you and he thus meet alone and he makes this private viſit to your Soul. There he will open his very heart to you and let you ſee how much you are in his favour. There he will impart to you his conſolations and fill you with his Spirit. Your mind will there be illuminated, your affections inflamed, your reſolutions ſtrengthned, and all your faculties invigorated with a greater chearfulneſs in obedience to his Will. And therefore do not fail as oft as you can to get out of the duſt and heat of this World into theſe cloſe and cool walks which Jeſus frequents. For though the dews of the Divine grace fall every where, yet they lye longeſt in the ſhade. Theſe ſugar'd drops do love moſt to ſtay in the ſolitary places. And when you can find no where elſe this milk of heaven wherewith all things are nouriſhed and refreſhed; you will be ſure to meet with plenty of it in theſe hidden receſſes.
But then I muſt remember you, That in the greateſt, moſt open and full manifeſtations of the Glory of God upon Jeſus, he was very private too, and cared not for having it publiſhed and talkt of abroad in the world. When he was transfigured in the Holy mount, you read that he went aſide privately with a few of his Diſciples; which may well commend unto you the love of retirement: And that brightneſs alſo wherewith he was cloathed, he commanded to be concealed as a great ſecret till a a fit ſeaſon to divulge it; which may well teach us to keep to our ſelves what paſſes between God and our ſouls, till others may be concerned in it as much as our ſelves. You may refer this perhaps to the Humility of his Spirit, but yet I thought good to adviſe you of it alone, becauſe it deſerves a particular conſideration. There is a vanity you may be guilty of if you heed not this, of glorying when you come abroad again, of the ſecret communication that you have had with Jeſus in the time of your Solitude. For I obſerve it is the Genius of ſome who profeſs acquaintance with Him, when they feel any delitious joyes exceeding the common ſort (which perhaps are indulged only in favour of their weakneſs and intended meerly to cheriſh their preſent childiſh condition) to blaze them every where and report them to others without any great occaſion for it. They think it a piece of Religion to communicate their experiences to the next paſſenger they meet withall: They love that others ſhould know how nobly they are treated: and ſo they lay a double ſnare, one for themſelves by the high conceit which they may raiſe in others of their excellencies; and a ſecond for their neighbours, by the diſcouragement they may feel for want of ſuch elevations. If your ſpirit therefore be at any time tranſported; if God ſhine into your heart very brightly and darken all this world in your eyes by cauſing his glory to cover you; I beſeech you caſt a cloud about it, that no body elſe may ſee it, unleſs the good of others make it neceſſary that it ſhould be revealed. Draw a vail over your face when it is ſo radiant, leaſt by ſhining too brightly upon others it hurt their eyes; and the reflection of it prove dangerous to your ſelf. As when you are in the World you muſt not forget to be private with God; ſo when you have been the moſt with God it is ſafeſt to keep it private from the World.
It may be ſeaſonable here to add, that while He maintained this delightful Converſe with God for his own benefit, his life was moſt profitable to others. Prayer and Meditation did not hinder his labours; but they were ſpurrs to induſtry, and made him more careful to do his work for which he was ſent into the world. He was not only attent to his own ſpirit that it might be kept with God, but he watcht for advantages of bringing the hearts of others to him. Much leſs did he ſpend his time in pleaſing amuſements to think how much he was in the favour of Heaven; but he iſſued out of theſe delicious thoughts, and took as great a pleaſure in introducing others into the ſame favour. There was no hour paſſed, but he did ſome good or other to the world. The finiſhing of one undertaking, was but the paſſage to another. When he ceaſed to do any thing, it was only that he might begin again. The change of his labours ſerved him inſtead of repoſe. And to go to a new work was all the Reſt that he deſired. His greateſt pleaſure was to do a pleaſure to other men. He choſe rather to want his meat, than ſuffer them to want his help. The greater pain there was in any buſineſs, the more he delighted in it: and pleaſure could not win his love, but by means of the labour which did bring it forth. In which diligence it concerns you very highly to imitate him if you mean to aſſure your arrival at Jeruſalem. The world is then to be feared, when it finds us empty and void of employment. We are ſafe enough though we live in it, if we do not live in idleneſs. While we have ſomething elſe to do, we ſhall eaſily reſiſt it, and turn aſide the ſtrongeſt of its temptations. You muſt not be at leiſure to go about any thing that is bad. You muſt deprive vice of all means to approach you, and let it have no time wherein to make its aſſaults. Whenſoever it attempts to enter, let it find that you are full and that there is no room at all for its entertainment. Let the ſolicitations of the fleſh ever come out of ſeaſon, and know that you have not a moment but what is prae-ingaged to ſome other imployment. When any temptation deſires to ſpeak with you, let the anſwer be ready that there is other company within, and that you cannot attend it: and when it would violently draw you away, let it find you bound and held very faſt by ſomething elſe. Finally, be unwearied in well doing and allot every portion of your time to ſome honeſt uſe or other: So will the world deſpair of winning you to her deſires, when it alwayes takes you other wayes buſied and perceives that all your hours are deſtin'd to other purpoſes. And truly if this were the conſtant end of our living, to do good or to receive it, it would prove the Bane of ſo many unprofitable thoughts when we are alone, and ſo many unprofitable words when we are with others; that we and the World would be very much amended by it.
But now it is time to draw to an end of this diſcourſe and therefore I will only give you a ſhort remembrance of this one thing more, That Jeſus was very ſtrong to reſiſt the temptations of the Devil in the midſt of his greateſt weakneſs, and had a great Faith and confidence in God in the midſt of the greateſt dangers and moſt ſudden ſurpriſes. His long hunger was not ſo ſharp, as to provoke him to take any undue means for its ſatisfaction. When his Diſciples awaked him in the middle of a tempeſt, his heart was not terrified nor his thoughts diſordered; but he gravely reproves the ſmallneſs of their Faith. He ever held Heaven faſt by the hand, and whatſoever it was that aſſayed to ſhake his conſtancy; he ſtood firm, and would not be moved ſo much as to doubt of the preſence and power of God with him. Be you ſure to have this Faith and powerful confidence of his alwaies in your eye: for you muſt not expect (as I ſhall ſhortly tell you) to paſs to Jeruſalem without many conflicts. When you are moſt infirm, your enemies will moſt ſtrongly aſſault you, and ſtrive to hale and draw you another way. Your afflictions will give them reſolution, and in the time of your languiſhments they will take to themſelves the greateſt courage. Whatſoever other weakneſs therefore you labour under, be ſure you be not weak in Faith: and when all other ſupports in the world fail you, remember to cleave and adhere cloſely unto God. Keep awake a ſenſe of his preſence with you, by often thoughts of him; thruſt your ſelf into his arms continually by a firm truſt in him; be ſtrong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, by taking hold of his Almighty Goodneſs. And then let your Adverſaries be what they will, whether from within, or from without; let their Armies be never ſo numerous which are ſet in battel againſt you: Doubt not but through an holy confidence in God, and the fervent prayer of Faith for the aids of his Spirit; they ſhall all diſband and flye away like ſo many heaps of duſt before the wind, and yield you the victory which they promiſed to themſelves. In this aſſurance I think it is beſt to ſeal up the ſecrets of that ſentence which I have been ſo long diſcloſing to you. For, though there are many other things remarkable in Jeſus (as you will ſee if you frequently faſten your eyes upon him) yet if I ſhould enumerate them all, I muſt turn over the leaves of the whole Goſpel and unfold them to you. The particulars alſo that I have mentioned, are ſufficient to give you ſuch a taſte of him, that if you like them, you cannot but delight to ſeek out all the reſt your ſelf; and therefore I ſhall not deprive you of that pleaſure, preſuming that you are not inſenſible from what hath been ſaid, that there is no greater than to know and follow Jeſus.