The Parable of the Pilgrim, Parable · Chapter 33
CAP. XXXIII.
How they chanced to ſee a very Poor man entertaining himſelf with much pleaſure under a Tree. Whence aroſe a diſcourſe of Contentment: and the means to attain it. Of Humility and Charity. That notwithſtanding all our Charity, we muſt not think to have the World ſo good as we would wiſh it.
I Know not to what length he meant to continue theſe acknowledgments, if a new accident had not put an end to his ſpeech. For as he was going to extoll the nobleneſs of his diſpoſition, as well as the tenderneſs which he obſerved; and had juſt uttered theſe words, you ſcarce know how to keep a meaſure when there is occaſion to be kind; your favours ſeem defective unleſs they exceed: they were on a ſudden encountred with another delighful ſpectacle which quite diverted his thoughts from what he was about to ſay. For as they paſſed by a fair field they eſpied a poor man in very ragged clothes under a large Beach Tree who was liſtning to the Muſick which the Birds made in the neighbouring grove, and ſometimes whiſtled himſelf to bear them company in their melodies. A long time they ſaw him thus entertain himſelf, and at laſt he pull'd out a piece of bread and cheeſe, which with eyes lifted up to Heaven he ſeem'd to acknowledge a liberal dinner. And at the end of it he went and pledged the Birds in a little ſtream that ran by him, giving God thanks again that had provided food for all his Creatures. They were much taken with the innocence of his looks and the contentment which they thought they read in his face, which bred a great deſire in them to know him better and ſee ſomething more of a Vertue hid under rags. And ſo approaching nearer to him and giving him the ordinary ſalutations which the time of the day required, they entred into diſcourſe, and in concluſion enquired of his condition and how he came to lead ſo merry a life being in appearance ſo deſtitute and low in his Worldly fortunes. The poor man made no ſcruple to diſcover his heart to them; but being of a free and open diſpoſition and not caring who was privy to his thoughts moſt readily accorded to anſwer their deſires. And he plainly told them that the occaſion of the preſent ſatisfaction which perhaps they ſaw him expreſs, was to hear the Birds ſo merry; who neither ſow, nor reap, nor have any barns wherein to lay up their food. I could not chuſe, ſaid he, but bear a part with them in their Mirth, and think my ſelf at leaſt as rich and happy as thoſe ſilly creatures. The World I ſee is as full for me as it is for them. All places are crowded with the bleſſings of God, and I know not where he ſhould beſtow more, they are ſo very full. A few of them alſo will ſerve my turn, for my wants are but a few. And a few things ſure are eaſily obtained, and cannot be long in getting. We need not go far to ſeek enough; for there is no ſcarcity of a little, and a little will ſuffice. And thanks be to God I was never yet at any great trouble to procure this little number of neceſſary things. At preſent my wants are all ſupplyed; and I have no reaſon to doubt but they will be ſo for the time to come. For ſure there is a God; and he muſt needs take care of his Creatures: and I imagine it is no pride (which will not become me in this Poverty) to think my ſelf one of the better ſort; and therefore conclude that I ſhall not want. There is nothing ſo much comforts me as the thoughts of his Fulneſs, of his Wiſdom, of his Goodneſs, Power and Preſence to all places, which make me confident that at preſent I enjoy what is moſt convenient for me, and that I ſhall never fail to do the like through all my life. And if I doubted of any of theſe, that inſtance of his Love and Care in ſending his own Son into the World would rid me of all my ſcruples. For if he ſpared not his Son, but delivered him up for us all, how ſhall he not with him give us all things. For the comforts of this belief I continually render my thanks to God; and you cannot conceive any greater contentment than that which I find in admiring and praiſing his eternal Goodneſs. Nay, I can never me-thinks give him thanks enough for letting me enjoy the uſe of my eyes, my tongue, my hands and feet; for theſe are greater things than all that I want, and by theſe and his bleſſing I may make proviſion for my wants. There are many I ſee in the World are poorer by half than my ſelf. I poſſeſs ſo much more than they, as all thoſe things which I have now numbred. O how rich do I eſteem my ſelf in compare with the blind, and the dumb, and the lame! But I ſhould be much aſhamed if among all thoſe who have leſs than I, there ſhould be found men that have more contentment. And I conſider with my ſelf ſometimes; ſhould thoſe poor Souls murmure, what is it that I ſhould ſay to give them content; and that very thing I ſay to my ſelf. I make the experiment firſt upon my own mind, and if it can do nothing there to comfort me who am in better condition, I think it unreaſonable to propound it unto them. And ſometimes on the other ſide I caſt mine eyes on them that have more, and ſee that they are as far from content as thoſe who have nothing at all: from whence I conclude that it is not to be found in all the World, but in our ſelves, and there I may find it without the abundance that they enjoy. I perceive alſo that Poverty is not without its benefits, and that it is deſervedly called the Mother of Sobriety, the Nurſe of Arts, the Miſtreſs of Wiſdom, the Spur to Induſtry, and the School to which we are put to learn the Knowledge of our ſelves, and the dependence we have on an higher Cauſe. Beſide all which, I uſe to call it my Sanctuary which no body will preſume to rifle. Here I am ſafe, for all men hate to hurt the poor. There is no Antidote of greater vertue, as I have heard men ſay againſt poiſon, than this condition wherein I am. They are the Veſſels of Gold, and not of Earth and Wood, wherein ſuch deadly potions are wont to be mingled. Nay, this Muſick which you ſaw me liſſening to, this Muſick of Gods own creating gives me the greater raviſhment, becauſe I conſider that none can rob me of it, and leave me my liberty and life. They that have taken away my goods, and have baniſhed me into the Woods, cannot hinder the Earth from putting forth the Flowers, nor the Trees from yielding their fruit, nor the Birds from ſinging among the branches; no nor me from entertaining my ſelf with all theſe pleaſures, at leaſt from being contented. And truly I ought me-thinks to rejoyce that theſe ſatisfactions are remaining, rather than repine that thoſe are gone which could never have given me full ſatiſfaction. But I ſuppoſe I ſpeak to thoſe who are not unacquainted with ſome wants, and therefore I may forbear to ſay any more than this; that if you can tell what it is that keeps you from being miſerable, that very thing is the comfort of my Poverty. For he that can reſt contented in one condition, can ſatisfie himſelf in all: and he who is not pleaſed in his preſent ſtate, will alwayes find ſome matter of complaint.
Our young Pilgrim would fain have had him to proceed in declaring the ſenſe of his Soul to them, becauſe he took him to be ſo happy. But yet he could not chuſe but yield to the equity of that which he had now ſaid, and therefore after they had requited the Poor mans generous freedom with a long diſcourſe, which both teſtified their ſympathy with him, and added much to the contentment of his mind; He entred into a debate with the Father when they were alone about thoſe things which will prepare the Soul to receive ſatisfaction in the meaneſt condition into which they might fall. For my part, ſaid he, I cannot but look back upon the felicity of thoſe who lead a temperate life in the midſt of all the abundance of this World. Every thing lets me ſee the neceſſity and excellency of that Vertue, and gives me occaſion to renew my commendations of it. The moderate uſe of all pleaſant things doth moſt effectually teach contentment, becauſe it ſhews us how little will ſerve our turn. It weans us alſo from the love of ſenſual delights, which is the only thing that makes the want or the loſs of them ſo troubleſome unto us. It makes room for wiſe and ſober thoughts. And me-thinks is nothing elſe but a conſtant exerciſe of contentment in one particular, which muſt needs diſpoſe our minds to the practice of all other parts of it. It is no great matter to be debarred of that, which we have oft forbidden to our ſelves: There is nothing taken away but what we could ſpare. We want nothing, but what we could want, while we were poſſeſſed of it. We are not forced to be without theſe things, for we choſe before to enjoy but a little of them. This is to praeoccupate and foreſtall the blows of fortune, as the Heathens I have heard were wont to ſay, when they ſpoke of the changes that we ſuffer in the World. We are before-hand by this means with any alteration. Nothing can give us any wound that ſhall make us ſmart, becauſe we have felt the point of it already. We have made a tryal of its power, and know what want can do upon us. We may cry out, as a generous Soul once did; I have got before thee, whatſoever Neceſſity thou art that intendeſt to come upon me. I have taken thee, and hold thee faſt in my hands. I have intercepted all thy aſſaults, and thou canſt not touch my heart. Nothing can arrive, but what is here before. I know the worſt of all things, for I have inured my ſelf to bear them.
You are in the right, replyed the Father, and I thank you for this good reflection. They do very ill ſure, who deſire to lead a contented life, and yet uſe themſelves to fare delitiouſly every day. They forget what is a coming who love to ſwim in pleaſures, and to gulp down as much as they are able of theſe ſenſual delights. They are but preparing their own priſons, and twiſting the whips that muſt ſcourge themſelves. They do but make themſelves more tender, and apt to ſhrink at the prick of a Pin. They will cry out moſt bitterly under thoſe laſhes, which ſober men will ſcarce feel. And yet let me tell you, that you would have done well to have caſt your eyes a little further back to ſome things of which we have not ſo lately ſpoken. You carry your contentment about you continually, and it lyes in a little room; if you have not forgot the very firſt Leſſon which I taught you at your ſetting out. Theſe few words, I am nought, I have nought, I deſire nought but Jeſus and Jeruſalem, I told you were like a little Bottle of Eſſences, which a Traveller muſt alwayes have in his pocket, and of which if he do but take a ſip, he will inſtantly find relief in any condition of life. Humility and Charity I mean are ſufficient to carry us thorow this evil World with an equal and well-poiſed mind. For as for the firſt of them; what is it, but the ſubmiſſion of our wills intirely to God, which is the very ſecret of Contentment? It is a great ſenſe of his Supreme Authority over us, with which it is a folly to diſpute; and of his Supreme Wiſdom and Goodneſs, out of whoſe hands it is a folly, if we might, to take our ſelves. It makes us think that we deſerve nothing at all, and ſo to be well-pleaſed that we have not leſs than we enjoy. It teaches us to renounce our own underſtandings, and to think that beſt, which is ſo in Gods account. But I will not take a great deal of pains in an eaſie argument, and therefore let us only conſider what the matter is, that no man is ſatisfied with the portion which Providence hath allotted to him: From the greateſt to the meaneſt we ſee, that men are ever complaining of their fortune. It is in vain that Heaven beſtows many bleſſings upon them, for they turn all into gall and bitterneſs, and have ſomething within which deſtroyes all their happineſs. The taſte of what they have is ſpoiled, by a perpetual thirſt after ſomething or other which they want. But might they not enjoy themſelves well enough without it? There is no queſtion to be made of it. For otherwiſe he that hath given them greater things, would not permit them to be without the leſs. The Life is more than meat, and the Body than rayment. What is the reaſon then that they deſire that ſo paſſionately of which they have no real need, and never take any comfort in that which they cannot be without? Truly I can find none, ſave only this, that though they do not need many things to their happineſs, yet in the opinion of the World they do, and it will not account them happy without them. The World thinks him no body who does not wear fine Cloaths, who hath not a great Eſtate, who is not able to leave his children very rich, who cannot revenge himſelf on his enemies, and have a large command over others, though he can command himſelf never ſo much: And ſo they ſacrifice their own eaſe to the popular opinions. They vainly employ their time to ſatisfie other men, rather than themſelves. They conſider more what will be ſaid of them if they be not in ſuch or ſuch an eſtate, than they do their own quiet and repoſe. And is it poſſible can we think that a man ſhould be well-pleaſed, who refuſing to comply with reaſon alone, deſires to give content to that famous Chimaera called Opinion? It cannot be; eſpecially ſince it is the Opinion of others, and not his own only which he follows; and this is a thing ſo infinite, and withall ſo mutable and uncertain, that it will never give him any reſt who is led by it. But then after all this, let us conſider what it is that makes men deſirous to content the World, in order to content themſelves. Is it not their Pride and deſire to be eſteemed? Is it not a vain ſtudy to be admired, and to have a great Name in the World? Let us be Humble then and we ſhall be contented. Let us have a mean eſteem of our ſelves, and we ſhall not be troubled that other mens thoughts are conformable to our own. Let us think we have more than we deſerve, and we ſhall at the moſt but ſtudy to be worthy ſtill to have it. Let us thus endeavour to make our ſelves happy, and we ſhall not care whether other men think us happy or no.
And then for Charity or the Love of God, it hath this particular Charm, that it renders all conditions alike agreeable unto us, becauſe we never conſider any thing therein, but only him alone. When we are ſo full of him as to love him with all our heart, and all our ſoul, and all our ſtrength, there can be but little room for any thing elſe. Some troubleſome thoughts may intrude themſelves, but they cannot dwell in us, becauſe the love of him will thruſt them out. Beſides the love of him is very powerful to beget in our ſouls a perſwaſion that he loveth us. Our Love is but the product of his; and there is nothing more comfortable then to think that we are beloved of ſo great a Good. And then again, Love is apt to make us well pleaſed with all that they do whom we entirely love. We can take nothing ill at their hands, but alwayes perſwade our ſelves that they mean well. It pleaſes us much that they ſhould pleaſe themſelves. And therefore if we love God, it will produce the ſame ſatisfaction in all his Providences: we ſhall love them every one, becauſe we are in love with him. Eſpecially ſince we are ſatisfied by this love of his good affection to us; it will not let us ſuſpect him of any unkindneſs. We ſhall alwayes reſt aſſured of his good will, and ſo have no more to ſay but only this, Thy will, O Love, be done. And I may add alſo that the Love of God being juſt oppoſite to our ſelf-love which is the root of all our troubles, muſt needs be the foundation and root of all our contentment. For what is Contentment, but the ſtability, as it were, of the Soul whereby it ſtands in one unmoveable temper? It is a kind of indifferency, an unconcernedneſs in all things but only God. And how is that to be purchaſed, but only by ſuch a ſtrong affection to him as deſtroyes the inordinate love of our ſelves and all other things. As long as that love of our ſelves reigns, it carries us headlong to every thing that pleaſes our carnal appetites. It make us range up and down the World after every trifle that we have a fancy unto. It makes us vex if we be croſſed in the leaſt of our deſires. It ſets us in a reſtleſs motion without any poſſibility of ever fixing our ſelves. It makes us as paſſionately concern our ſelves for a toy as if it touched our very life. And therefore till this be deſtroyed, we are not likely to find the contentment which we ſeek. Now the Love of God, that is juſt contrary to it and cannot ſtand together with it. That concenters and unites all our thoughts and affections in one Good which we may alwayes have and in which we may alwayes have ſatisfaction. That ſettles our ſouls in one place, out of which we need not ſtir to ſeek our happineſs. That carries our hearts continually above and ſets us out of the reach of theſe worldly things. It raiſes us beyond our ſelves and makes us feel him who is infinitely better: who alſo we know rules and diſpoſes all things in the world, according to that excellent goodneſs which we feel in him. Let us love him therefore now as much as we can, and in this let us place our happineſs. So ſhall we never fail to be well pleaſed; becauſe every thing will make us more to love him.
I thank you moſt heartily, ſaid the Pilgrim, for the ſeaſonable remembrance you have given me of that excellent leſſon. It hath done me ſo much good, that I cannot ſee how any thing ſhould trouble me unleſs it be this; to ſee ſo little Love of God in the world, and that I can do no more good upon men whom I love for Gods ſake. It is very well, replyed the Father, if you have no more to trouble you then this; for it is only the fruit of a great Love, which ſometime is wont to make us ſick, if it meet with unkind entertainment in thoſe on whom it is beſtowed. And beſides let me tell you this for your better ſatisfaction; that you muſt content your ſelf to ſee the world ſo imperfect as it is. You will never have any quiet, if you vex your ſelf becauſe you cannot bring mankind to that exact Idaea of things which you have formed in your mind. You deſire, I perceive, above all things that there might be peace on earth, and that Chriſtian people might live in a ſweet agreement together. But be not Ignorant I pray you of this, that you do but trouble your ſelf, and the world too, if you think to attain this happineſs by making all ſo perfect as your ſelf. As it is too commonly ſeen that Good men hinder peace by inſiſting over vehemently upon leſſer truths, which might well ſtand aſide to make way for unity in greater things: ſo an unſeaſonable and violent indeavour to correct ſome faults, and root out ſome abuſes, and to take away ſome imperfect inſtitutions hath too frequently driven peace away from the Church of God. All which proceeds from want of prudence and diſcreet conſideration of things, with which an honeſt and well meaning zeal had need to be tempered. We muſt well weigh the nature and moment of things. When it is impoſſible to have all we honeſtly deſire, we muſt take what we can, rather then want the chiefeſt thing that is in our deſires. We do not live in a world that is compoſed of complete Chriſtians. All is weak, all is ſick and diſtempered in the Societies of men. They are in a ſtate of great infirmity, not to ſay corruption and degeneracy. He that would go about preſently to make all ſo healthy and pure, ſo free from all diſorder as he deſires; hath much piety perhaps, but little prudence. He conſiders not that a crazy ſtate of things, cannot be ſo ſoon amended and reſtored to entire ſoundneſs. We ſhall ſooner kill then work a Cure, if we apply ſuch violent Medicines, and ſuddenly make uſe of the higheſt remedies. We muſt deal gently with Patients that are very ſick and alſo labour of a Chronick diſeaſe. We muſt wait for favourable ſeaſons; we muſt try what they can bear; we muſt go on by ſteps and degrees to extirpate a long ſettled and inveterate ill habit of mind. In plain words we muſt not expect and ſtay, as I told you, for peace in our ſelves or the world either, till all men be as good as we would have them. We muſt not remain in Confuſion, till we can eſtabliſh ſuch an exact platform and model of things as Piety teaches us to deſign. We muſt conſider whether it can be attained in this ſtate of affairs. We muſt obſerve what the condition of the world is able to endure. We muſt do as Workmen and Artificers are wont, who when they have not the choice of their Materials out of which they are to frame a piece, do content themſelves to form ſuch an one as their Stuff will yield. It is impoſſible out of bad matter to form a compleat and excellent piece of Work. And this doth not argue the defect of the Artificer, but the incapacity of that upon which he exerciſes his skill. It is the knotty logg and not he which renders the Statue ſo mean. Such defects and imperfections in the Body of mankind, nay and of Chriſtians alſo, we muſt be forced to accommodate our ſelves unto; or elſe we muſt break Society, and not be one Body. Neither God nor man will expect that we ſhould make things perfect, where the ſtate of men is capable of Nothing but imperfection. He himſelf was fain to comply with the obſtinate hardneſs of the Carnal Jews. The Laws which he gave were not the beſt, but ſuch as they could bear. And truly we muſt all be content to ſuffer that which we cannot mend. Patience muſt be the remedy of thoſe things which cannot be corrected. Provided, that Chriſtianity be not deſtroyed, nor Juſtice and Piety ſubverted, we muſt for peace ſake tolerate many faults, till they can be taken away and leave it ſtill remaining. There are ſome things that are abſolutely neceſſary, and others only excellent and very deſireable. Some that are indiſpenſable and others that may be let alone. Some that muſt exerciſe our zeal, and others only our Patience. And we had need pray to God that all may be ſo happy as rightly to diſtinguiſh theſe. That they may have as much light as they have heat. That good affection may not be ſparated from good underſtanding. That the the more piety any man hath, the more prudence and wiſdom he may be adorned withall. So will he not only keep peace, but alſo make it. He will not be a Friend, but alſo a Father of it. And in all likelyhood obtain that by ſoft and moderate courſes; which the more Violent, though ſeemingly more Pious too, will certainly drive away.
It is poſſible indeed the World may call this a lukewarm temper: but do not regard at all what they ſay. For as Charity teaches you to be thus moderate; So from Humility you learn not to matter their cenſures of you for it. You ſhall never be at any quiet, if you be troubled at all that men are pleaſed to talk of your doings. Or if their good eſteem be neceſſary to your content, it is a very eaſie matter to foretell that you ſhall alwayes live without it. Thoſe are excellent ſayings me-thinks which our Fore-fathers have left behind them. He ſhall have enough to do who studies to pleaſe fools and them that have no skill. To pleaſe and to diſpleaſe are the meer effects of chance and hazzard; wiſdom and ſufficiency have no ſhare therein. Two things deſerve to have but little credit given to them; the eſteem of great men, and the teſtimony of the people. Reputation is a thing that is often got without merit; and loſt without any ill deſervings. And therefore when we have won the greateſt ſhare of mens good Opinion, why ſhould we think our ſelves the better? And when we have loſt it again, what cauſe is there to judge our ſelves the worſe? Are you the taller in the evening becauſe your ſhaddow is longer, or are you ſhorter at noon becauſe it is then contracted? Do not think of your ſelf then according to the meaſure of the Honour you receive from others; for it is at the beſt but the ſhadow of Vertue. So you know it is vulgarly called; and if you allow the expreſſion, there is more of inſtruction in it, then you may imagine. The ſhadow you know attends the body whereſoever it goes: It is its inſeparable companion and will nto be parted from it. And ſo truly doth honour and glory wait upon all Vertuous actions. Though no body commend them, yet they commend themſelves. A man cannot but think he hath done bravely, though there be none to applaud him but his own conſcience of what he hath done. And therefore regard not ſo much what the World thinks of you, as what you think of your ſelf. Ask not whether it be ſatisfied, but whether you have rendred Juſtice to your own reſolutions. Wait not to receive commendations from abroad, but think it ſufficient if you meet with no reproaches at home. Not that I would have you refuſe juſt praiſes when they are beſtowed upon you, much leſs think it is the ſtile of Saints to be talking of your vileneſs. But I would only have you to do well though you hear ill; and only to learn to do better if you meet with good acceptance. For the truth is, the approbation of wiſe men though it ſhould not puff us up, yet it ought to encourage us. And he that rejects all the teſtimony of others, doth not ſo much expreſs the Vile opinion he hath of himſelf, as the contempt wherein he holds his Neighbours.