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

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 notwithstand∣ing 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 ex∣toll the nobleness of his disposition, as well as the ten∣derness 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 de∣fective unless they exceed: they were on a sudden en∣countred 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 acknow∣ledge 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 approach∣ing nearer to him and giving him the ordinary saluta∣tions which the time of the day required, they entred into discourse, and in conclusion enquired of his condi∣tion and how he came to lead so merry a life being in appearance so destitute and low in his Worldly for∣tunes. The poor man made no scruple to discover his heart to them; but being of a free and open dispositi∣on 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 sa∣tisfaction 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 hap∣py 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 suf∣fice. 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 con∣clude

that I shall not want. There is nothing so much comforts me as the thoughts of his Fulness, of his Wis∣dom, 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 content∣ment. 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 pro∣pound 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 per∣ceive 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 In∣dustry, 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 sa∣tisfactions are remaining, rather than repine that those are gone which could never have given me full satis∣faction. 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 him∣self

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 pro∣ceed 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 in∣to a debate with the Father when they were alone about those things which will prepare the Soul to re∣ceive 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 tem∣perate life in the midst of all the abundance of this World. Every thing lets me see the necessity and ex∣cellency of that Vertue, and gives me occasion to re∣new my commendations of it. The moderate use of all pleasant things doth most effectually teach content∣ment, because it shews us how little will serve our turn. It weans us also from the love of sensual de∣lights, 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 for∣bidden 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. No∣thing 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 intercep∣ted 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 de∣lights. 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 continu∣ally, and it lyes in a little room; if you have not for∣got 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 Tra∣veller 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 in∣tirely to God, which is the very secret of Content∣ment? 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 argu∣ment, and therefore let us only consider what the mat∣ter 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 de∣stroyes 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 en∣joy 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 com∣mand 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 fa∣mous Chimaera called Opinion? It cannot be; espe∣cially 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 can∣not 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 unconcern∣edness 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 rest∣less 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 sa∣tisfaction. 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 bet∣ter: 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 un∣less 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 enter∣tainment in those on whom it is bestowed. And be∣sides 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 to∣gether. 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 unseaso∣nable and violent indeavour to correct some faults, and root out some abuses, and to take away some im∣perfect 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 disor∣der 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 sud∣denly 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 fa∣vourable 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 plat∣form and model of things as Piety teaches us to de∣sign. We must consider whether it can be attained in this state of affairs. We must observe what the conditi∣on 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 im∣possible out of bad matter to form a compleat and ex∣cellent piece of Work. And this doth not argue the defect of the Artificer, but the incapacity of that up∣on 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 accom∣modate our selves unto; or else we must break So∣ciety, 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 imperfecti∣on. He himself was fain to comply with the obsti∣nate 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 reme∣dy of those things which cannot be corrected. Pro∣vided, 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 ab∣solutely 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 like∣lyhood obtain that by soft and moderate courses; which the more Violent, though seemingly more Pi∣ous too, will certainly drive away.

It is possible indeed the World may call this a luke∣warm 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 testimo∣ny 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 lon∣ger, or are you shorter at noon because it is then con∣tracted? 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 ex∣pression, 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 compa∣nion 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 commen∣dations 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 talk∣ing 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.