The parable of the pilgrim written to a friend by Symon Patrick ...

CAP. XXXII.

How they light upon a company of select Friends who were met at a frugal, but handsome Dinner. The com∣mendation of Temperance. Of the pleasure that Friends enjoy in eating together. The benefit of Friendship. With the Character of a true friend.

IN such discourse as this they passed with much pleasure a long stage of their journey. At the end of which, being thirsty, they called at a place where one would think that Heaven designed to give the Pil∣grim an example of innocent pleasure. For here they found a knot of loving neighbours at a frugal din∣ner; who seemed to feast one another more with their mutual good conversation, then with any other chear that was provided. Their eyes told that they were very merry: and that there was a true love in their hearts, their countenance and free converse did plainly declare. There was nothing superfluous, but all very handsome; no loosness but great great free∣dom;

no noise but much innocent pleasure. They were disposed to Mirth rather then joy; to chearful∣fulness rather then jollity; and to entertain them∣selves with a grateful variety rather then abundance of meat and drink. This fight did very much affect the young mans heart, and when they were gone, he began to speak in the praise of Temperance, and to commend their happiness who could contain them∣selves within the limits of Sobriety. For this said he is the Mistress of health, and also of wise and pure thoughts. It refreshes the Body and doth not bur∣den the mind. It casts down neither of them to the ground, but raises both to their just pitch of pleasure. It continues us free and fit for any employment, but especially that of thanking God for all his blessings, which is the Noblest of all. It leaves us capable to enjoy the things of the other world when we have enjoyed as much as we please of this. It suffers rea∣son to retain its throne, or rather exalts and advances its Supremacy every day to a greater height. Nay, it preserves our taste, and renders our palate more exact then other mens are: for all the senses I perswade my self when ruled by reason, must needs be more up∣right Judges, then when that is absent and set aside. And therefore me thinks, there is nothing more pre∣serves the honour and reverence that is due to our na∣tures, then this Vertue. It maintains the Majesty of our countenance, the lustre of our eyes, the grace∣ful deportment of our whole Man. Whereas all the world confesses, and it is their common speech that a man in drink, is Nothing else but a man disguised. He looks basely; he is the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of children and fools; he is pointed & laughed at, as if he were some monster; he is the sport and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••ven of those who have

thus disrobed him of himself. And as for them whose brains are so strong that they have overcome him, and think it an honour to be able to hold more then the rest of their fellows; this glory is their shame. They are the Vermin of the Earth who live to con∣sume the goods of others, and to waste the patrimony of the Poor. And when they brag of their Victories they are so silly as not to remember what one of the Philosophers saith, that they are overcome by the Hog∣shead which is far more capacious than themselves. Nay, I cannot but think those people who know no pleasure but high fare, the joy of whose life depends upon full Tables, and as full Bellies, who love no∣thing like Feasts, and would have them as sumptuous as Sacrifices; to be a sort of creatures much inferiour to some Beasts; who though they are not capable to govern themselves, yet are ruled by us, and rendred serviceable and profitable to the world. But these are good for nothing but only to devour; and com∣monly they follow this trade so long that they de∣vour themselves and all that belongs unto them.

No doubt, said the good Father, (who here thought fit to interrupt him) the praises which you bestow upon Temperance are very just, and you can never commend it to excess. Which procures me there∣fore the greater grief when I see so few in the World who live according to the rules of this Vertue. Their number is very small who are not corrupted with the love of these sensual pleasures. Though they do not fall into such high debauches as you speak of, not drinking as if they were in a perpetual feavour, nor eating as if they were laying in provision for a long Siege: (which me thinks is a good description which

I have heard some give of their excess) yet they are not many who measure their meals by their needs; and they are not to be told who are Bibbers of Wine, and love to sit long at compotations, and design to make provision for the flesh, that they may fulfil the lusts thereof. Nay, which is saddest of all, there are too many of those who profess to be Re∣ligious, whose God is their belly. They love Feasts, and hunt after good chear. And if it be but san∣ctified with a Sermon, Gourmandise is innocent in their account. Like some naughty Christians in the Elder times whom I mentioned before, who thought they might carouse and drink as long as they would, so they did but sit with a mortified face upon the Mar∣tyrs Tombs. And it were some comfort if their sin ended here; but their Intemperance is the Mother and fruitful Parent of many other Vices. A long train of sins as well as diseases waits upon this, and follows it just at the heels. It both brings in and it uncovers every other evil inclination. It removes that Modesty, which stands more in the way than any thing else of most mens bad endeavours. It banishes all shame, so that there is nothing left to oppose any wickedness. Who hath woe, who hath sorrow, who hath conten∣tion, who hath babling, who hath wounds without cause? They that tarry long at Wine, they that go to seek mixt Wine; as the Wise man tells us. Whatso∣ever evil dispositions are in the mind, then they take opportunity to shew themselves. Malice is brought into open view, and spits its venom. The proud spirit is lay'd bare, and seeks no pretence for its insolence. The furious man is left naked of all his guards, and cares not whom he mischieves. The lustful man un∣covers himself, and scarce waits for secrecy to fulfil his

desires. And truly I wish I could not say that this Folly which is the most filthy of all, was not the com∣mon issue of that of which we speak. There is more of this uncleanness in the World than you imagine. They that wear the countenance of Religious people are led, I assure you, by their Cups to the Brothel-houses, and pass from the Taverns to the Stews. So it was of Old, and the same Villany continues still; that many turn the Grace of God into laseiviousness. And if you would know who they are, the same Apostle tells you, that they were such as feasting with others, did feed themselves without fear. And so St. Peter also lets us know, that they who accounted it pleasure to riot in the day-time (in the clear light of the Gospel) had eyes full of adultery, and could not cease from sin. But I will leave these men who are gone in the way of the false Pro∣phet Balaam, who taught the Children of Israel to commit fornication. Only let me leave those words of the Apostle with them; They are Wells without water, Clouds that are carried with a tempest, to whom the mist of darkness is reserved for ever. Nor will I say any more of the rest of those sins which attend upon an intemperate life, which makes a mans Soul like a piece of low ground, which by reason of abundance of wet, brings forth nothing but Frogs, and Worms, and Ad∣ders, all manner of wickedness which either disho∣nours God, or hurts our selves and our neighbours. I will rather turn my eyes to a more pleasant sight, and comfort them with the remembrance of those Good men whom we saw just now so happily met together. And me thinks it is a very great felicity in this false World, to find but one face among so many Vizors; and to be able to lay hold on something that hath truth and substance in it among so many shadows.

Having found therefore a little number of seriously sober persons, it cannot but make me rejoyce the more that Temperance hath some Clients, and that she is not forsaken of all her followers.

But though this be very true, that we do deservedly praise this Vertue and all her Servants; yet me-thinks you should have observed something else at that meet∣ing which is worthy of your commendation. Did not the very meeting it self seem a very comely sight? And was you not glad to behold so many kind neighbours assembled at that decent entertainment? To me there is not a more agreeable spectacle than a company of select friends, vacant of business, and full of chearfulness, met together at one table. And I cannot imagine that a man who understands pleasure, can wish any equal to this, that he might make one in such an happy society. You may think indeed that it is sufficient to our delight, if we can meet our friends any where: But I am of the mind that the pleasure is redoubled when they refresh their bodies and their minds both together. I hate indeed your great Feasts; where persons that never saw one the other before, nor ever shall perhaps again, are mixt together; where there is much talk, and little or no discourse: But these Love-feasts me-thinks do call to my mind the dayes of Innocence, and make me wish for nothing when I enjoy them, but only such another pleasure. Here we know that we pledge an hearty Love, when a man presents his kindness to us. Our mind is entertained with a greater variety, than the body enjoyes. The very taste of our meat is exalted by the inward delight which we feel in our hearts. And whatsoever satisfaction we then receive, we impart as much to those that give it. The weak and languish∣ing

appetite is excited by the sight of friends, and the pleasure of their discourse: and the discourse flows more freely by the moderate satisfaction of our appe∣tite. Our dull spirits are raised by communication with our friends: and that Communication grows more lively by the exaltation of our spirits. Or if you please so to consider it; Friends never talk with greater wit, and more freedom, than when they take an innocent repast together; and their meat never doth their bodies more good, than when this sweet conversation is the sauce for it.

Indeed, said the Pilgrim, I had forgot to reflect up∣on that part of those good mens satisfaction: which I take to be so great and yet so harmless withall, that I shall ever be a friend of such pleasures, and permit my self to be merry in such worthy company. They have convinced me that I ought not to affect a sad brow and an heavy countenance. They have reconciled me to smiles and mirth. And provided they will keep within such bounds, I will never quarrel with my pas∣sions any more. But there is none that I have a grea∣ter kindness for, than that of Love: the pleasures of which, as it self acquaints me withall, so the usefulness of it those excellent men have also taught me.

And, not to part so soon from so good a meeting, I must let you know that they understood afterward, a great part of the discourse at that Table was about friendship, and the happiness of him that had found a faithful friend. Which when it was repeated to him by one that was there, it was a great means of con∣firming this affection in our Pilgrim, and making him rejoyce in his advantageous choice. My memory is not

so good as to carry away all that I heard was said on this argument, but it begun with a commendation of that saying of the Son of Sirach, A faithful friend is a strong defence: and he that hath found such an one, hath found a Treasure. Nothing doth countervail a faith∣ful friend, and his excellency is unvaluable. A faithful friend is the Medicine of Life, and they that fear the Lordshall find him. He speaks like an Oracle, said one of the company, for a friend me-thinks is the only uni∣versal Medicine against all the evils of this present life. And with your permission I will make a Comment up∣on this Aphorism; or rather I will recite you the words of a good Author, who, though I believe he ne∣ver saw him, hath glossed me-thinks most excellently on the Text of that wise Hebrew. To which when they had all most willingly accorded, he thus pro∣ceeded.

There is no Remedy in the World, saith he, equal to that of a friend; for other Medicines are profitable to the sick, and superfluous to those who are in health; but He is ne∣cessary to both. He supplyes the wants of Poverty. He adds a brightness to our glory; and he obscures and hides our Ignominy. This one things lessens the difficulty of those that are troublesome to us; and increases the happi∣ness which all our injoyments bring us. It makes evil things little, and good things great. By this sweet socie∣ty our griefs are divided, and all our joyes are doubled. What calamity is not intolerable without a friend? and what felicity is not ungrateful if we have none to share with us in it? We suffer not so much when we have some to condole and suffer with us: And we rejoyce the more when our felicity gives a pleasure not only to our selves, but to others also. If Solitude and want of company be so

horrid, so dreadful a thing; it is not to be understood of the want of men, but of the want of friends. For it is a good Solitude, not to dwell with those that do not love us: and a man would chuse such an Hermitage where he might not be troubled with them who bear no benevolous affection to him. But for my part I cannot think it to be an happiness which hath no friend to participate in its plea∣sures. A man may more easily bear the hardest Calamity with his Friend, than the greatest felicity alone. So that I judge him the most miserable who in his calamity hath many to insult over him; and in his felicity none to taste of his joyes, and rejoyce with him. Who is there more speedy in his succours than a Friend? Whose praise is sweeter to us than his? And by whom is Truth spoken with less grief than by such a mouth? What Castle, what Bulwark, what Arms and Weapons, are more po∣tent to secure us, than the custody of those who are well-affected to us? For in truth, so many Friends as a man hath gained, with so many eyes doth he see, and with so ma∣ny ears doth he hear, and with so many understandings doth he think of that which is profitable for him. It is all one as if God had given to a man in one body, a great ma∣ny Souls; every one of which do tenderly consult and care for his good. Nay, if our eyes, and our tongue, and our hands are much to be prized, not only for the delights of Life, but that we may live; Friends are not only as profi∣table, but more necessary than these. For your eyes can scarce see those things which are under your feet; but by our Friends we may see those things which are in the fur∣thermost parts of the earth. By our eares we hear only the things that are very near us; but by our Friends we hear them which are most remote. The tongue signifies only to those who are present, and with the hands, the strongest man can do more than two or three are able: but by

Friends we may talk with all, and be able to effect innu∣merable things; for they will be sure to speak and do for us all that which is conducible to our good. But that which is most incredible is, that when a man hath friends, he may do many things at the same time, and consult about divers affairs at once; and see and hear; nay more then that, he may be in many places at the same moment. His pleasures are multiplied, as he multiplies his friends; for all that delights them, touches him with a sense of joy as much as what concerns himself. If he give any thing to them, it rejoyces him as much as if he had gained a great deal of Wealth. If he receive any thing, it rejoyces him too, because his friends are pleas∣ed. Though he be very fond of his kindred, yet he thinks friendship a greater good, then Consanguinity; for with∣out any kindred between men this is a strict and profita∣ble relation; but without this there is no comfort at all in the greatest nearness of blood.

And therefore we may well conclude with our Wise man, that this is the greatest treasure, the strongest de∣fence, an invaluable Jewel, the very Balsome, and com∣fort and only preserver of our life. A man is scarce himself till he have found a friend, or at least he is but half a man. For as another wise man saith, Nuptial love produces men, but it is friendly love which gives them perfection. It may well be called the salt and seaso∣ning of our Pilgrimage. Without this, life it self would be unsavoury, and all the pleasures of it insipid. It is the most agreeable pleasure that a person of Vertue can enjoy. It is an holy, chaste and innocent pleasure: a Voluptuousness which riseth higher then sense, and seeks the superiour part. It acts on the mind without causing it to suffer a change. It moves it with so much sweet∣ness,

that it stirs not out of its seat. Or it ravishes it from it self, only to remove it to a better place.

When he had done, they all agreed he did illustrate his Author as much as he had done the Son of Sirach. For said they, we have read now this Writer by the benefit of your eyes; and you have so happily tran∣sported us out of our selves, that we find indeed we are better then where we were before. But yet, ad∣ded another, that Wise man you spoke of, gives us this advice in the same place, If thou wouldst get a friend, prove him first, and be not hasty to credit him. For some man is a friend for his own occasion, and will not abide in the day of trouble. Some friends will be thy companions at thy table, but in the time of affliction they will not continue. In thy prosperity they will be as thy self, and will be bold over thy servants. But if thou be brought low, they will be against thee, or hide them∣selves from thee. Separate thy self from thine enemies, and take heed of thy friends. How therefore shall we know the faithful friend whom he so much praises; or by what Marks shall we distinguish him from these pretenders? I would be loath to stay till the day of trouble before I know these counterfeit Lovers, and would be glad to impart my joyes to one that deserves them. It is a very necessary Question said a Third, and therefore with your consent I will undertake his Character, or at least his description. You shall not only have our leave, said a fourth in the name of the rest, but our thanks; which we give you beforehand for so good an offer. The world is full of false hearted friends. Towns and Kingdoms are made up of these honest kind of Cheats, as one whom you know is wont to call them. Into whatsoever place you come,

you will find very little of that which you have brought hither: I mean affection without interest; fidelity without stain; with all the goodness and free∣dome of the Age of Innocence. There are many, saith he, that had rather lose an hundred Friends, then so many Crowns. They value them no more, then they do men in Turky that are to be sold. And I know some that would easily forgoe their most dear and faithful Intimates at the rate of ten or twenty pound a piece. Men they are (if we honour them not too much, with that name) who as the Wise Man you spoke of suggests to us, come but to drink, and return back again when the Bottles are empty. And therefore it will oblige us very much if you will be at the pains to let us know the qualities of a man, that is fit to be admitted into our Society.

A Friend then, replyed he, that is worthy of our bo∣some love, is a person that is equally good and intelli∣gent: That can neither deceive, nor easily be deceived: that can seldome do ill out of weakness, and never out of design. He is one that will serve you without Vanity, but with all imaginable zeal: without any interest, but with the exactest care and diligence. That will engage himself most passionately in your defence when you are absent, or unfortunate, or dead. That will follow you with his love to the other World; and serve those when you are dead, whom you would have served if you had been alive. He is one that never conceals his own secret from you, nor reveals yours to others. That will freely re∣prove you, and never back-bite other men. That can see your faults, and yet easily pardon them. And that as readily acknowledges merit, as he espies and pardons faults. That cannot tell how to do any thing without

your knowledge, unless it be a good turn. That would have you see all he doth, except the friendly offices which he is every where rendring to you. That loves to entertain you with pleasant discourse, but howsoever with wholesome and profitable. That will follow you to all dangers, though to no sins. That can vary perhaps with your hu∣mour, but not with your fortune. That can make you a feast where there is no good chear besides himself. That can serve as sauce to excite your appetite, and save you the charge of Wine to exhilarate your spirits. That will divert you, without the prejudice or offence of any body else. That will make you more sensible of his tender∣ness by small things, then others can do by greater ser∣vices.

He is one that thinks all the praises of others importune if you complain. To whom even his own merit seems odi∣ous, if it receive not your approbation. One that loves no pleasure so much as complacence to you. To whom all places are alike, so you be not absent. He can deny himself any thing and his friend nothing. He can bear himself com∣pany in Solitude, but is never weary of the company of those he loves. He hath a sense of honour, equal to his sense of love. He hath no vulgar thoughts, but yet stoops to the most vulgar actions for the service of his friend. He hath a great and generous mind, but omits not the trifles which will please him. He will neglect his own business to do his. He will receive a kindness as well as do it: and is not more willing to oblige than to be obliged. He is thankful and acknowledging for the smallest offices of love; and studies to repay it with the greatest. He is possessed of all the Ver∣tues, but makes a show of none. He loves decency without affectation, generosity without pride, courtesie without ce∣remony, and strictness without severity. His morality is

void of all rudeness; his seriousness gives no disgust; his silence is without sullenness; and his humility without baseness and meanness of spirit. He hath a World of good qualities, and modesty is Superior to them all. For he is shamefac'd without ignorance, and blushes because you see he knows so much. He delights not to praise that in others wherein he excells himself. Nor is he sparing there of his commendations, where his own defects will leave him no title to the application. He can hide any thing better then his love. He can do any thing better then deny your re∣quests. He can endure any thing with more ease then to be separated from your Society. When you are with him, you are still alone. When you advise with him it is with your self. He hath all things in common with you, but chiefly adversity. He and his friend have but one will; though they may have different understandings. And in∣deed this one quality is it which I like in a friend above all the rest, viz. A sweet and innocent compliance, which is the cement of love and the secret charm of Society. This rare disposition makes him to please us without flattery: and to tye himself to us without the loss of liberty. If ac∣cords to our desires without opposing reason: gives way to our weakness without increasing and cherishing of it: ac∣commodates it self to our humour under the generous pro∣fession of freedom; serves us in all things it can, without being captivated to any. There is nothing baser indeed then compliance when it is separated from other Vertues. Nothing more offensive to those on whom it is bestowed if they have any noble resentments in them; then when it is so servile as to subject the understanding and enthrall the reason to their desires. But being to attend upon those other good qualities which I have required in my friend, and serving alwayes with a liberty of mind; as there is nothing less offends any body else, so nothing more sweetens

a mans own disposition, or more delights and gratifies that of his friends. It bends it self to profit others and not only to please. It studies to advantage them with the greatest civility. It subdues their passions with the greatest quietness. It reduces them to themselves without violence. It stoops unto them that it may lift them up. It conde∣scends that they may be recovered. It fashions it self to what they are, that they may be what they ought. It yields to their anger that it may disarm them of it. It grants their desires that it may take them away. It makes a man agree to others not that they may comply with him again, but comply with reason.

In short therefore, he must be a vertuous person, we all grant, whom we chuse for our friend. For he is not capa∣ble to be a friend to us, who is not a friend to himself. He can never accord well with another, who feels an intestine war continually in his own breast. But yet all vertuous persons do not so resemble each the other, as to joyn toge∣ther in that strict Ʋnion which bears the name of Friend∣ship: And therefore he is fit to be received into this rela∣tion who besides the qualities common to all good men, doth Symbolize with us in his humors and inclinations. When you meet with such a man as answers this descripti∣on, make much of him and place a great confidence in him. To distrust him is the highest sin you can commit against him. To be suspicious of the truth of what he saith is the most notorious breach of the bond of your friendship. And as soon as ever you begin to doubt, it is certain you begin less to love.

To this effect was the discourse of him who took upon him to give the description of a worthy friend: which was highly applauded by the whole Table and

served for an excellent close of their feast. And truly the repetition of it made a new feast for our Pilgrim who began upon this occasion to reflect on his own happiness who had met with a friend that answered in all points this great Character to the very life. O Sir, said he to the Father, what a loss am I at for words to express my felicity who have found the best of men and the best of friends! How gladly would they have admitted you into that loving Society from which we lately parted! They would have ravished you from me and staid you there for ever if they had known your worth. They would have thought it too much that I should enclose so great a good, which is capable to serve a little World. For besides the rest of those vertuous qualities which they remembred, you are the most compassionate of all men living. You cannot be merry I see, if I be sad. The least grief which I suffer penetrates to the bottom of your heart. And if I mis∣take not I touch upon a truth of the greatest remark to distinguish a sleight from a substantial friend. For I have heard wiser men then my self note, that the World hath no great number of those people, who are deeply wounded with the sense of the misery that be∣falls their friends; or whose resentments of sorrow are of any long durance, though they be never so pas∣sionately moved with the first sight or report of them. Compassionate grief they observe, is wont soon to slide away; and make room for the entrance of any plea∣sure. Most men can divert themselves delightfully if occasion serve; though their friends sufferings be ne∣ver so sad. They have not made their concernments so much their own, as that they should feel pain as long as their friends. But yet I find you to be one of that little number who are infinitely tender, and through∣ly

touched with all the infirmities of those that they love. How often have you charged your self with my cares and disquiets? How many thorns have you drawn out of my mind? How many expedients have you devised to succour and support me under all my burdens? You have often tempered the heat of my passions. You have sweetned the sharpness of my spi∣rit. You have healed my wounds when you could not prevent the blow. You have brought me cordi∣als, when I was capable of no consolations but those which your company administred to me. You have devided with me the labours which I am to undergo. And taken a part of that duty upon you which I am to perform. And have made your self so inseparable to me, as if it was but one life which you and I lived. I ought to value you as much as my self; and for as much as my person is dearer to me then all my world∣ly goods; I ought to esteem the benefits you have done my mind, more then if you had given me a mass of treasure, and possessed me of the fairest estate which the eye of the World hath ever seen.

Notes

• Jude 4.12
• 2 Pet. 2.13, 14
• 2 Pet. 2.14
• Ecclus. 6 14, 15, 16
• Dion. Prus. 1.