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

CAP. XX.

How they will indeavour to puff him up with Spiritual Pride. A description of one of our conceited Believers. And also of a certain Artificial Religion which deceives many.

AND now if they see that your Will to him is so strongly set, and your Heart touched so power∣fully with his love, that neit her by Poverty nor Sick∣ness, by Fancies nor Fears, by Perswasion nor Violence, no nor by sins neither it can be hindred from going to him; they will grow extream angry and you may ex∣pect the very last assault of an inraged enemy which commonly is worse then all the rest. Nothing can more provoke their spirits then to find that all they say is slighted and dis-regarded. There are no words you can speak of them that they esteem so reviling, as the scorn you put upon them by not hearkning to any of their words to you. It will incense them to take a sudden revenge, when they see you so obstinately re∣solved as to force your way through the midst of all the difficulties wherewith they surround you. This will necessitate them to invent a new Method to sur∣prise you and to lay their trains in a way quite differ∣ent from the preceding: which though they may seem not hard to discover, yet have more of Malice, if not of Craft, then any other. For now it is possible they will fain a compliance with you and make as if they neither could, nor had a mind any longer to re∣sist you. They will commend your constancy, and praise your resolute mind, and indeavour to make you

believe that they are so sensible of it, that they will forbear to trouble you. Nay, to such a complaisance will they form themselves, that you shall hear no more of the badness and difficulty of the way wherein you are; but they will say, it is excellent, easie and void of all dangers, which are now disheartned from present∣ing themselves to a mind that is only resolved to over∣come them. By this means they will secretly labour to cause a very good opinion of your self to steal into your mind, and study to blow you up into an empty conceit of your own worth and sufficiency. They will bring before you all the good deeds that you have done and display your Victories before your eyes and let you know what a gallant person you are accounted. They will tell you how all men admire you; that the whole world must needs love you and have you in great esteem for your piety; yea, even venerate the sanctity of your Conversation. They will not spare to say that you have shown such love to Jesus as none can equal, and especially that your courage and valour is so eminent that it is above their praises. And all this with a great deal more they will suggest unto you, only to breed in you as lofty an esteem of your piety as they perswade you others must needs have of it; and to puff you up with such a vain joy, that you may please your self in your self and forget to go forward to Jerusalem. But if you tender at all your own well∣fare and would not miscarry after you have done so worthily, hold all this for an illusion and a dangerous piece of flattery. Look upon it as a deadly poison under the tast of honey and so throw it away saying, I will have none of it: I AM NOUGHT, I HAVE NOUGHT; Do not think to please me with this dis∣sembled sweetness, for that which I desire is nothing

short OF THE PEACE which is promised to me at JERUSALEM.

And here I should have entred a serious caution against Spiritual Pride and a vain conceit of your own abilities, with which most of the world is infected; but that is included already in the general advice that I have given you: and besides I see you are so humble as to become a learner. It may seem indeed a thing worthy of little or no praise for those who are Igno∣rant to come to be instructed; but there are few I assure you of our contentious Christians though never so silly who are yet arrived at this perfection. They think themselves fit not only to dispute with their Mi∣nister, but to be his Teachers. They are his Masters rather then his Schollers: and they do not only call him in question, but boldly deliver their opinion of him. If they had so much modesty and sense of Chri∣stian duty left, as to bring their doubts unto him about what he sayes, it could not but be esteemed a com∣mendable care of their souls. But alas! they are grown to that degree of insolence and are so mon∣strously arrogant, that they have possessed themselves of the chair, and sit as Judges of his Sermons. What else means the rebukes which they meet withall, the hasty censures which are passed upon them, and the Magisterial sentence which is instantly pronounced with such a peremptoriness, as if there lay no appeal from the Bar of their understanding? It hath been my hard hap to converse with many of them; and among the rest I fell into the company of one the other day, who spake of his Guide with such a scorn, and condemned his Sermons with so much confidence and laught so loudly at his Ignorance, and likewise

cavilled so impertinently at his expressions when he had nothing to say against the sense of what he had spoken, that a well disposed man (though a little fierce) said he had some doubt whether the Devil did not appear unto us to try if he could infect us with the leprosie of his Pride and Passion. And indeed I thought that I never saw those things more evident in any man, except it was in another of the same sort who came to cheat us (as a neighbour of mine said) in the shape of an Angel of light. This Person after a great many godly expressions, whereby it is like he deceived himself into an opinion of his Saintship, fell into a kind of Christian compassion, and seemed to have his Bo∣wels yerning over his Teacher; saying, Alas poor man! my soul is grieved for him: He is so weak and unquallified for the work he hath undertaken. He is utterly void of the Spirit, and understands not the workings of it in the hearts of Gods people. I can never think of him but it pitties me to see how much he is in the dark: a stranger to the power of Godli∣ness, and the mysteries of the Covenant of Grace. Poor Soul! who puts us upon doing (and they say is careful of that himself) but knows not what it is to believe. Is it not a great happiness Sir that we have the teachings of the Spirit; and that the vail is taken from our eyes which still hangs before the men of the World? Hath not Christ done much for us who hath made us wiser then our Teachers?—

I could not for my heart but here interrupt him (knowing that the person whom he thus undervalued was a true lover of our Saviour and excellently skill'd in his Religion) or else I think we should have heard as much in his own praise as we had in the others dis∣commendation.

But the truth is, I never heard any thing so fulsome from the mouth of man; and found my self far more impatient of such filthy stuff, than he could be of the Sermons at which he expressed so great dislike. And, to say nothing at all of the man, I can∣not but think that this Spirit is the very First-born of the Devil, the eldest of all the daughters of Pride, the Prince of Darkness in the garments of Light, the dregs of Christian Pharisaism which now as much despises Christs Ministers, as the Jewish did Christ and his Apostles. God I hope will never suffer you to suck in this poison of the Serpent, nor lick up this vomit of the old Scribes and Pharisees. I discern me-thinks that you are as far from it, as they were from the Kingdom of Heaven, or else I should bestow more time upon you to season you against this leaven, which will sowre the whole lump of your Religion and ren∣der it as offensive to God as it self is to all sober Chri∣stians. But I need not have said so much: I must suppose you as empty of all humanity as this disposition is of Christianity, as far from Reason as it is from the Spirit of God, or else hope that this Spiritual Pride, this devout Devil shall never possess you. For what is it but madness (even in the opinion of those men) for one that was never bred in the mysteries of that profession, to come into an Apothecaries shop, and there to condemn all his Drugs and Medicines for rot∣ten and corrupt, to spit upon his compositions, and offer to throw them all out of doors as fit to be min∣gled with the dirt? And yet there is not more sense in the humour of those persons that use the Sermons they hear after that fashion: which evidently proves that they deserve not the name of Sober, much less of Wise and understanding Christians. Though the

matter of such discourses have been long considered and duly weighed, and diligently composed out of the Word of God; yet these men who do not ponder them so many Minutes as their Instructers do dayes, and have no more skill in those matters then in their neighbours trades which they never professed; reject them at first hearing, bespatter them with their igno∣rant censures, and (as if they were in a frantick fit) cast them out, as they would fain do their Authors, like unsavoury salt that is good for nothing but to be troden under feet.

It will seem a wonder perhaps unto you that such men as these should esteem themselves Religious, How is it possible, will you be ready to say, that such a no∣torious want of Modesty and Humility of Spirit should not make them suspect their want of true Christianity? I know indeed that nothing is more confident then Ignorant heat, but I marvel that in their cool moods, they do not accuse themselves at least of rashenss and inconsiderate zeal. And truly I should stand amazed at it too, did I not know that there is such a fair counterfeit of Religion in the World that not only deceives others, but those also in whom it is. You behold every day many Images which have all the outward parts and proportions of men to whose similitude they are exactly formed. And perhaps you have heard of a Statue that walked and that spoke also, wherein the Artist indeavoured to express the motions of inward life. Which may serve as a resemblance to you of such an Artificial Re∣ligion, that not only the outside and the garb of Piety is represented by it, but there is an imitation also of the inward motions of the soul in such affections of

fear and love and joy as are in truly Religious hearts. Do not think it strange nor wonder at this which I now tell you, for it is a very great truth which I thought not safe to conceal from you. And if you will have so much patience, I will discover to you the trick of it, and show you by what mechanical powers this liveless Engine (for it is no better) is stirred and acted in the wayes of God.

You know the force that Colours and Sounds and other such material Objects have upon our senses; and how they excite a great many motions in our animal spirits without asking our leave or staying for our consent. You cannot be ignorant neither that these motions are in the soul it self, which hath resentments according to the quality of those objects that it is im∣pressed withall. And again you cannot but perceive by my discourse with you, that the figures and images of things may be raised in your fancy by that means, as well as conveighed by the doors of sense. Suppose then that the beauty and loveliness of Christ were de∣scribed to a company of men in very fresh colours and fair lineaments. That he was painted before their imagination by some sweet-ton'd Orator as white and ruddy, the chiefest often thousand. That this speech of him should be trim'd with nothing but gems and pretious stones, rayes and glories, odors and perfumes, crowns and diadems wherewith he saith this Prince of Glory and Woer of Souls is perpetually adorned. And then he should tell them that his heart stands open to them, that he intends to lay them in his very bosome, that he would fain embrace them in his arms, and will wash them in his blood, make them amiable and fair as well as himself, put upon them the robes of his righte∣ousness

cover with his glorious garments to hide all their deformities, and so present them to God without spot or blemish that they may reign as so many Kings with him for ever. Suppose I say that such a discourse were made with much affection (and I believe you have sometimes heard the like) would it not as agree∣ably move the imagination of a fleshly man and be as apt to touch his heart with an inclination to this beau∣tiful person; as a lovely face presented before the eyes doth give him a pleasure and stirs up a passion in him toward it? Truly I nothing doubt but this picture of Christ might impress such a conceit of him in the fancy, as might excite admiration, desire, love, delight and such other passions as shall be the imitation of those that are in pious souls who are in love with the Vertues and Spirit of our Saviour. He may not at all suspect but that he bears an affection to the Lord Jesus, and in great zeal anathematize and curse all those who are not just affected like himself. He will condemn as much as your self all those dull and gross souls who are imployed in setting the postures of the face, and amusing the world with countenances. He laughs at them who are busied in ordering the moti∣ons of the head, and bending the eyes to devotion. He is far above these actions of the body and feeling his soul in a devout posture and toucht with Religious passions; he knows no reason why he should not think himself to be worthy to wear the name of devout and Religious.

And when these apprehensions and emotions (as we call them) are once begotten, it is no hard matter to maintain and breed them up to a greater growth. They may be fed perpetually with new objects that yield

a fresh delight. The description of Jerusalem may be made so full of pleasure, that an earthly man may be ravished therewith. And he hearing also certain signs and marks given of those who are said to have an in∣terest in Christ, and shall be Heirs of Jerusalem; it is very easie to conceive how such a man may set himself a work, first to imprint his Fancy with such Characters, and then to form his passions to some expression and Apish imitation of them. Fancy, you know, hath a great command over all the passions, and being acquainted very well with the way to them, and the manner of awakening them, can call them forth upon this occa∣sion as easily as upon any other. It can make them as busie when these divine matters present themselves, as when sensible objects knock at our doors, and demand to be admitted to our converse. There are no names of dearness which men of this stamp cannot bestow upon Jesus. They can speak of him with an high pleasure: and pray in a pathetick style, and not with∣out devout transport. They find a Love to this kind of Communion with him. They can rejoyce to think of his fulness and sufficiency. They can be astonished at the freeness of his Grace. They can mourn for their sins, and then call themselves blessed for so do∣ing. Nay, more than this, they can excite the passion of gratitude in their hearts: and if they hear withall that they must be regenerate and born again, they can follow the Fancy of that so long, till they think that they feel the throws and pangs of the new birth, a change wrought in their souls, and all the rest, in the method and order wherein they had it described to them. They will first be cast down in great humilia∣tions. They will complain of the naughtiness of their hearts, and the corruptions of their natures. They

will loathe and abhor themselves as abominable crea∣tures. They will disclaim all their own righteousness and strength, and think of bringing their hearts to the Promise. And if they have heard any better language to express this work, they will bring themselves to an imitation of all that is contained in that also. They will labour to detest their former courses, and to make a choice of a new life. They will strain themselves to spit upon their sins, and to cast a smile upon the wayes of Virtue. They will at least offer themselves to Christ to be formed anew, and pray him to make them such as he pleases.

Thus is one of the Religious Puppets of the world pro∣duced. This is the beginning and progress of that piece of work, which a good man now at Jerusalem was wont to call a Mechanical Religion. And if you doubt at all whether or no there be such an Artificial Device as this, which passes for Piety, do but call to mind one thing which you cannot but know if you have been a person of any observation, and you shall be convinced of it. There arises, you see, very often new modes and fashions of Religion among us. The old wayes are much decryed, and the last invention is voted to be altogether Divine. Now if one of these persons whom I have spoken of shall chance to fall in∣to the acquaintance of a Sect, that is much different from the present which he hath long followed, you shal see him easily shift his form, and speedily turn into ano∣ther shape. He can soon quit the way wherein he was, and become religious after the manner of this novel plat-form. All the old signs and marks of Regenera∣tion shall stand for nothing, and now he distinguishes himself from the men of the world by other Chara∣cters.

Which is an evident token that he is moved by the power of imagination, and as external objects shall strongly impress themselves: that he hath no in∣ternal life, but is carried by the impulse of forein things, which change his motions at their pleasure. He seems to himself to be alive, and to be no less than divinely acted; but alas! he is only a walking Ghost, as appears in this too plainly: That like those Images of living Bodies, he can alter himself so quickly, and be moulded into another figure. Such a shadow of a Christian, perhaps, was he that hath been the occasion of all this discourse: whom we are not to think to have an inward life because of the noise and bustle that he made, and the confidence wherewith he spake; for these do but still render him more like those Ghosts, who have a greater boldness, and cause many times more stir, than they that are really alive.

That we may be sure therefore that you are a living man, you must expose your self to our touch, and de∣monstrate it to the sense of feeling. You must say as our Saviour did when his Disciples took him for an Apparition, come near and handle me, and you shall see that I do not cheat you. Let those that approach you perceive that Christ liveth in you, and shew forth your works out of a good conversation, and that in meek∣ness of wisdom. I mean in plain words, that it must ap∣pear to the world, that you are a substantial Christian by all the acts of an Holy Life. You must make them sensible of your exact Justice, your unfeigned Charity, your Self-denyal, your Patience, your Peaceableness, and above all, your Meekness, Humility and Modesty of Spirit: that if they had a mind they may not have the face to say, you have but the semblance and Apish

imitation of Piety. And to say the truth, there is no∣thing will certainly evince it to your self, but only this, that you feel in your heart a constant, powerful, and prevailing inclination to all good works.* 1.1 Hereby we know that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. If we know that he is righteous, we know that every one that doth Righteousness is born of him.* 1.2 Let no man deceive you, he that doth Righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous. He that committeth sin is of the Devil.* 1.3 Whosoever is born of God, doth not commit sin, for his seed remaineth in him, and he cannot sin, because he is born of God. In this the Children of God are manifest, and the children of the Devil; whoso∣ever doth not Righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his Brother. And indeed by this one mark last named, you shall detect the Artifice of those seem∣ing people: who notwithstanding all their fair speeches whereby they deceive the hearts of the simple, are ne∣ver found to have a true and hearty Love to those that follow not the Sect which they have embraced. It is a great while ago since a very eminent person told the world, that he noted but two small wants in that sort of men, viz. of Knowledge and of Love. He might have bated them one of the two, and yet their condition had been bad enough: though, if he had lived till now, he would have seen their Poverty increased, and that they want Humility as much as either of the other. They are indeed but small wants in their account (especially the two last of the three) and they can be very well content without them, if God will be so too. They esteem themselves Rich enough in other invisible treasures; nay, they have one Jewel of such inesti∣mable value (viz. their Faith) that it will compensate for a thousand wants that are no greater than these.

But either I have lost all my labour, or else I have made you sensible that there is nothing more imports you, than to see that you be not deficient in these two, Charity and Humility. I may safely, I suppose, refer you to your own memory for to be satisfied in their necessity; and so only say this concerning the former of them: That all your Faith is worth no∣thing, which worketh not by Love; and that he is a Lyer, who saith he Loveth God, and loveth not his Brother also.

That you may secure your self therefore the better from this, and all other illusions, what other counsel should I give you, than to ponder that sentence much which I wisht you to carry along with you, and to let your thoughts run as little as may be upon any other thing, save Jesus only and Jerusalem? Draw your mind from the things which you see in this outward world, and make it to retire within unto your self; that there you may talk with Jesus, and behold Jeru∣salem, and see that Glory where he is. Which when you have practised a competent time, as every thing will be unwelcome and painful to you, which is not related to them: So you will entertain every thing as very acceptable, which brings you into their familia∣rity. Not as if I would have you to neglect any busi∣ness to which you are obliged in the world; for what∣soever it be which either Necessity or Charity re∣quires, whether it be for your self, friends, or Chri∣stian Brethren, I must charge you to apply your self to the doing of it with all care and exactness. Jesus is not out of your eye (as I shall tell you further) when you are so imployed; for this is the thing by which he was known above all other, that he went about doing

good. But if it be a business of no necessity, or if it be one wherein your particular person is not concerned, and your neighbour challenges not your assistance, let it alone, and trouble not your thoughts about it. And if it offer it self to you, and press upon you, and would make you a medler in other mens matters (as most of our vain Believers are) tell it, you have something else to do, and repeat still those words, I HAVE NOUGHT, AND NOUGHT DO I DESIRE BUT TO BE IN PEACE WITH JESUS AT JERUSALEM.

Notes

• * 1.1

  1 Joh 4.13
• * 1.2

  Cap. 2.19
• * 1.3

  Cap. 3.8, 9, &c.