Chapter X: Part 10

Is the most impotent man, though neither blind nor lame, as wanting the more necessary limbs of life, without which limbs are a burden. A man unfenced and unsheltered from the gusts of the world, which blow all in upon him, like an unroofed house; and the bitterest thing he suffers is his neighbours. All men put on to him a kind of churlisher fashion, and even more plausible natures are churlish to him, as who are nothing advantaged by his opinion. Men fall out with him before-hand to prevent friendship, and his friends too to prevent engagements, or if they own him 'tis in private and a by-room, and on condition not to know them before company. All vice put together is not half so scandalous, nor sets off our acquaintance farther; and even those that are not friends for ends do not love any dearness with such men. The least courtesies are upbraided to him, and himself thanked for none, but his best services suspected as handsome sharking and tricks to get money. And we shall observe it in knaves themselves, that your beggarliest knaves are the greatest, or thought so at least, for those that have wit to thrive by it have art not to seem so. Now a poor man has not vizard enough to mask his vices, nor ornament enough to set forth his virtues, but both are naked and unhandsome; and though no man is necessitated to more ill, yet no man's ill is less excused, but it is thought a kind of impudence in him to be vicious, and a presumption above his fortune. His good parts lie dead upon his hands, for want of matter to employ them, and at the best are not commended but pitied, as virtues ill placed, and we may say of him, "Tis an honest man, but tis pity;" and yet those that call him so will trust a knave before him. He is a man that has the truest speculation of the world, because all men shew to him in their plainest and worst, as a man they have no plot on, by appearing good to; whereas rich men are entertained with a more holiday behaviour, and see only the best we can dissemble. He is the only he that tries the true strength of wisdom, what it can do of itself without the help of fortune; that with a great deal of virtue conquers extremities; and with a great deal more; his own impatience, and obtains of himself not to hate men.

AN ORDINARY HONEST MAN

Is one whom it concerns to be called honest, for if he were not this, he were nothing: and yet he is not this neither, but a good dull vicious fellow, that complies well with the debauchments of the time, and is fit for it. One that has no good part in him to offend his company, or make him to be suspected a proud fellow; but is sociably a dunce, and sociably a drinker. That does it fair and above-board without legermain, and neither sharks for a cup or a reckoning: that is kind over his beer, and protests he loves you, and begins to you again, and loves you again. One that quarrels with no man, but for not pledging him, but takes all absurdities and commits as many, and is no tell-tale next morning, though he remember it. One that will fight for his friend if he hear him abused, and his friend commonly is he that is most likely, and he lifts up many a jug in his defence. He rails against none but censurers, against whom he thinks he rails lawfully, and censurers are all those that are better than himself. These good properties qualify him for honesty enough, and raise him high in the ale-house commendation, who, if he had any other good quality, would be named by that. But now for refuge he is an honest man, and hereafter a sot: only those that commend him think him not so, and those that commend him are honest fellows.

A SUSPICIOUS OR JEALOUS MAN

Is one that watches himself a mischief, and keeps a lear eye still, for fear it should escape him. A man that sees a great deal more in every thing than is to be seen, and yet he thinks he sees nothing: his own eye stands in his light. He is a fellow commonly guilty of some weaknesses, which he might conceal if he were careless:--now his over-diligence to hide them makes men pry the more. Howsoever he imagines you have found him, and it shall go hard but you must abuse him whether you will or no. Not a word can be spoke but nips him somewhere; not a jest thrown out but he will make it hit him. You shall have him go fretting out of company, with some twenty quarrels to every man, stung and galled, and no man knows less the occasion than they that have given it. To laugh before him is a dangerous matter, for it cannot be at any thing but at him, and to whisper in his company plain conspiracy. He bids you speak out, and he will answer you, when you thought not of him. He expostulates with you in passion, why you should abuse him, and explains to your ignorance wherein, and gives you very good reason at last to laugh at him hereafter. He is one still accusing others when they are not guilty, and defending himself when he is not accused: and no man is undone more with apologies, wherein he is so elaborately excessive, that none will believe him; and he is never thought worse of, than when he has given satisfaction. Such men can never have friends, because they cannot trust so far; and this humour hath this infection with it, it makes all men to them suspicious. In conclusion, they are men always in offence and vexation with themselves and their neighbours, wronging others in thinking they would wrong them, and themselves most of all in thinking they deserve it.

NICHOLAS BRETON

_Published in 1615 "Characters upon Essays, Moral and Divine" and in 1616 a set of Characters called "The Good and the Bad." He was of a good Essex family, second son of William Breton of Redcross Street, in the parish of St. Giles without Cripplegate. His father was well-to-do, and died in January 1559 (new style) when Nicholas was a boy. His mother took for second husband George Gascoigne the poet. Only a chance note in a diary informs us that Nicholas Breton was once of Oriel College, Oxford. In 1577, when his stepfather Gascoigne died, Breton was living in London, and he then published the first of his many books. He married Ann Sutton in the church of St. Giles, Cripplegate, on the 14th of January 1593 (new style), had a son Henry, born in 1603, a son Edward in 1606, and a daughter Matilda in 1607, who died in her nineteenth year. He was from 1577 onward an active writer both of prose and verse, and a poet of real mark in the days of Elizabeth and James the First, though it was left to Dr. A. B. Grosart to be, in 1875-79, the first editor of his collected works in an edition limited to a hundred copies. The date of Breton's last publication, "Fantastics," is 1626, but of the time of his death there is no record, Nicholas Breton's "Characters upon Essaies" published in 1615, were entitled in full "Characters upon Essaies Morall and Divine, written for those good spirits that will take them 'in good part, and make use of them to good purpose." In recognition of the kinship between Bacon's Essays and Character writings, they were dedicated_

To the Honourable, and my much worthy honoured,
truly learned, and Judicious Knight, SIR FRANCIS BACON,
his Maties. Attorney General,
_Increase of honour, health, and eternal happiness_.

Worthy knight, I have read of many essays and a kind of charactering of them, by such, as when I looked unto the form or nature of their writing I have been of the conceit that they were but imitators of your breaking the ice to their inventions, which, how short they fall of your worth, I had rather think than speak, though truth need not blush at her blame. Now, for myself, unworthy to touch near the rock of those diamonds, or to speak in their praise, who so far exceed the power of my capacity, vouchsafe me leave yet, I beseech you, among those apes that would counterfeit the actions of men, to play the like part with learning, and as a monkey that would make a face like a man and cannot, so to write like a scholar and am not; and thus not daring to adventure the print under your patronage, without your favourable allowance in the devoted service of my bounden duty, I leave these poor travails of my spirit to the perusing of your pleasing leisure, with the further fruits of my humble affection, to the happy employment of your honourable pleasure.--At your service in all humbleness,

NICH. BRETON.

_Breton prefixed also this address_--

TO THE READER.

Read what you list, and understand what you can. Characters are not every man's construction, though they be writ in our mother tongue; and what I have written, being of no other nature, if they fit not your humour they may please a better. I make no comparison, because I know you not, but if you will vouchsafe to look into them, it may be you may find something in them; their natures are diverse, as you may see, if your eyes be open, and if you can make use of them to good purpose, your wits may prove the better. In brief, fearing the fool will be put upon me for being too busy with matters too far above my understanding, I will leave my imperfection to pardon or correction, and my labour to their liking that will not think ill of a well-meaning, and so rest,--Your well-willing friend,

N.B.

CHARACTERS UPON ESSAYS,

MORAL AND DIVINE.

BY NICHOLAS BRETON.

WISDOM.

Wisdom is a working grace in the souls of the elect, by whom the spirit is made capable of those secrets that neither nature nor reason is able to comprehend; who, by a powerful virtue she hath from the Divine Essence, worketh in all things according to the will of the Almighty, and, being before beginning, shall exceed time in an eternal proceeding. She is a light in the intellectual part, by which reason is led to direct the senses in their due course, and nature is preserved from subjecting herself to imperfection. In the Creation she was of counsel with the Trinity in the pleasing of the Deity; in the Redemption the inventor of mercy for the preservation of the elect; and in the Glorification the treasurer of life for the reward of the faithful, who, having committed to her care the carriage of the whole motion, finding the disposition of earth in all the children of her womb, by such a measure as she finds fitting their quality, she gives them either the grace of nature or the glory of reason. While being the mother of the graces, she gives them that holy instruction that, in the knowledge of the highest love, through the paths of virtue, makes a passage to heaven. Learning hath from her that knowledge without the which all knowledge is mere ignorance, while only in the grace of truth is seen the glory of understanding. Knowledge hath from her that learning whereby she is taught the direction of her love in the way of life. Understanding hath from her that knowledge that keeps conceit always in the spirit's comfort; and judgment from understanding, that rule of justice that by the even weight of impartiality shows the hand of Heaven in the heart of humanity. In the heavens she keeps the angels in their orders, teacheth them the natures of their offices, and employs them in the service of their Creator. In the firmament she walks among the stars, sets and keeps them in their places, courses, and operations, at her pleasure. She eclipseth the light, and in a moment leaves not a cloud in the sky. In her thunders and lightnings she shows the terror of the Highest wrath, and in her temperate calms, the patience of His mercy. In her frosty winters she shows the weakness of nature, and in her sunny springs the recovery of her health. In the lovers of this world lives no part of her pureness, but with her beloved she makes a heaven upon earth. In the king she shows grace, in his council her care, and in his state her strength. In the soldier she shows virtue the truest valour; in the lawyer, truth the honour of his plea; in the merchant, conscience the wealth of his soul; and in the churchman, charity the true fruit of his devotion. She lives in the world but not the world's love, for the world's unworthiness is not capable of her worth. She receiveth Mammon as a gift from his Maker, and makes him serve her use to His glory. She gives honour, grace in bounty, and manageth wit by the care of discretion. She shows the necessity of difference, and wherein is the happiness of unity. She puts her labour to providence, her hope to patience, her life to her love, and her love to her Lord; with whom, as chief secretary of His secrets, she writes His will to the world, and as high steward of His courts she keeps account of all His tenants. In sum, so great is her grace in the heavens as gives her glory above the earth, and so infinite are her excellencies in all the course of her action; and so glorious are the notes of her incomprehensible nature, that I will thus only conclude, far short of her commendation:--She is God's love, and His angels' light, His servants' grace, and His beloved's glory.

LEARNING.

Learning is the life of reason and the light of nature, where time, order, and measure square out the true course of knowledge; where discretion in the temper of passion brings experience to the best fruit of affection; while both the Theory and Practice labour in the life of judgment, till the perfection of art show the honour of understanding. She is the key of knowledge that unlocketh the cabinet of conceit, wherein are laid up the labours of virtue for the use of the scholars of wisdom; where every gracious spirit may find matter enough worthy of the record of the best memory. She is the nurse of nature, with that milk of reason that would make a child of grace never lie from the dug. She is the schoolmistress of wit and the gentle governor of will, when the delight of understanding gives the comfort of study. She is unpleasing to none that knows her, and unprofitable to none that loves her. She fears not to wet her feet, to wade through the waters of comfort, but comes not near the seas of iniquity, where folly drowns affection in the delight of vanity. She opens her treasures to the travellers in virtue, but keeps them close from the eyes of idleness. She makes the king gracious and his council judicious, his clergy devout and his kingdom prosperous. She gives honour to virtue, grace to honour, reward to labour, and love to truth. She is the messenger of wisdom to the minds of the virtuous, and the way to honour in the spirits of the gracious. She is the storehouse of understanding, where the affection of grace cannot want instruction of goodness, while, in the rules of her directions, reason is never out of square. She is the exercise of wit in the application of knowledge, and the preserver of the understanding in the practice of memory. In brief, she makes age honourable and youth admirable, the virtuous wise and the wise gracious. Her libraries are infinite, her lessons without number, her instruction without comparison, and her scholars without equality. In brief, finding it a labyrinth to go through the grounds of her praise, let this suffice, that in all ages she hath been and ever will be the darling of wisdom, the delight of wit, the study of virtue, and the stay of knowledge.

KNOWLEDGE.

Knowledge is a collection of understanding gathered in the grounds of learning by the instruction of wisdom. She is the exercise of memory in the actions of the mind, and the employer of the senses in the will of the spirit: she is the notary of time and the trier of truth, and the labour of the spirit in the love of virtue: she is the pleasure of wit and the paradise of reason, where conceit gathereth the sweet of understanding. She is the king's counsellor and the council's grace, youth's guard and age's glory. It is free from doubts and fears no danger, while the care of Providence cuts off the cause of repentance. She is the enemy of idleness and the maintainer of labour in the care of credit and pleasure of profit: she needs no advice in the resolution of action, while experience in observation finds perfection infallible. It clears errors and cannot be deceived, corrects impurity and will not be corrupted. She hath a wide ear and a close mouth, a pure eye and a perfect heart. It is begotten by grace, bred by virtue, brought up by learning, and maintained by love. She converseth with the best capacities and communicates with the soundest judgments, dwells with the divinest natures and loves the most patient dispositions. Her hope is a kind of assurance, her faith a continual expectation, her love an apprehension of joy, and her life the light of eternity. Her labours are infinite, her ways are unsearchable, her graces incomparable, and her excellencies inexplicable; and therefore, being so little acquainted with her worth as makes me blush at my unworthiness to speak in the least of her praise, I will only leave her advancement to virtue, her honour to wisdom, her grace to truth, and to eternity her glory.

PRACTICE.

Practice is the motion of the spirit, where the senses are all set to work in their natures, where, in the fittest employment of time, reason maketh the best use of understanding. She is the continuance of knowledge in the ease of memory, and the honour of resolution in the effect of judgment. She plants the spring and reaps the harvest, makes labour sweet and patience comfortable. She hath a foot on the earth but an eye at heaven, where the prayer of faith finds the felicity of the soul. In the fruit of charity she shows the nature of devotion, and in the mercy of justice the glory of government. She gives time honour in the fruit of action, and reason grace in the application of knowledge. She takes the height of the sun, walks about the world, sounds the depth of the sea, and makes her passage through the waters. She is ready for all occasions, attendeth all persons, works with all instruments, and finisheth all actions. She takes invention for her teacher, makes time her servant, method her direction, and place her habitation. She hath a wakeful eye and a working brain, which fits the members of the body to the service of the spirit. She is the physician's agent and the apothecary's benefactor, the chirurgeon's wealth and the patient's patience. She brings time to labour and care to contentment, learning to knowledge and virtue to honour: in idleness she hath no pleasure, nor acquaintance with ignorance, but in industry is her delight and in understanding her grace. She hath a passage through all the predicaments, she hath a hand in all the arts, a property in all professions, and a quality in all conditions. In brief, so many are the varieties of the manners of her proceedings as makes me fearful to follow her too far in observation, lest being never able to come near the height of her commendation, I be enforced as I am to leave her wholly to admiration.

PATIENCE.

Patience is a kind of heavenly tenure, whereby the soul is held in possession, and a sweet temper in the spirit, which restraineth nature from exceeding reason in passion. Her hand keeps time in his right course, and her eye passeth into the depth of understanding. She attendeth wisdom in all her works, and proportioneth time to the necessity of matter. She is the poison of sorrow in the hope of comfort, and the paradise of conceit in the joy of peace. Her tongue speaks seldom but to purpose, and her foot goeth slowly but surely. She is the imitator of the Incomprehensible in His passage to perfection, and a servant of His will in the map of His workmanship: in confusion she hath no operation, while she only aireth her conceit with the consideration of experience. She travels far and is never weary, and gives over no work but to better a beginning. She makes the king merciful and the subject loyal, honour gracious and wisdom glorious. She pacifieth wrath and puts off revenge, and in the humility of charity shows the nature of grace. She is beloved of the highest and embraced of the wisest, honoured with the worthiest and graced with the best. She makes imprisonment liberty when the mind goeth through the world, and in sickness finds health where death is the way to life. She is an enemy to passion, and knows no purgatory; thinks fortune a fiction, and builds only upon providence. She is the sick man's salve and the whole man's preserver, the wise man's staff and the good man's guide. In sum, not to wade too far in her worthiness, lest I be drowned in the depth of wonder, I will thus end in her endless honour:--She is the grace of Christ and the virtue of Christianity, the praise of goodness and the preserver of the world.

LOVE.

Love is the life of Nature and the joy of reason in the spirit of grace; where virtue drawing affection, the concord of sense makes an union inseparable in the divine apprehension of the joy of election. It is a ravishment of the soul in the delight of the spirit, which, being carried above itself into inexplicable comfort, feels that heavenly sickness that is better than the world's health, when the wisest of men in the swounding delight of his sacred inspiration could thus utter the sweetness of his passion, "My soul is sick of love." It is a healthful sickness in the soul, a pleasing passion in the heart, a contentive labour in the mind, and a peaceful trouble of the senses. It alters natures in contrarieties, when difficulty is made easy; pain made a pleasure; poverty, riches; and imprisonment, liberty; for the content of conceit, which regards not to be an abject, in being subject but to an object. It rejoiceth in truth, and knows no inconstancy: it is free from jealousy, and feareth no fortune: it breaks the rule of arithmetic by confounding of number, where the conjunction of thoughts makes one mind in two bodies, where neither figure nor cipher can make division of union. It sympathises with life, and participates with light, when the eye of the mind sees the joy of the heart. It is a predominant power which endures no equality, and yet communicates with reason in the rules of concord: it breeds safety in a king and peace in a kingdom, nation's unity, and Nature's gladness. It sings in labour, in the joy of hope; and makes a paradise in reward of desert. It pleads but mercy in the justice of the Almighty, and but mutual amity in the nature of humanity. In sum, having no eagle's eye to look upon the sun, and fearing to look too high, for fear of a chip in mine eye, I will in these few words speak in praise of this peerless virtue:--Love is the grace of Nature and the glory of reason, the blessing of God and the comfort of the world.

PEACE.

Peace is a calm in conceit, where the senses take pleasure in the rest of the spirit. It is Nature's holiday after reason's labour, and wisdom's music in the concords of the mind. It is a blessing of grace, a bounty of mercy, a proof of love, and a preserver of life. It holds no arguments, knows no quarrels, is an enemy to sedition, and a continuance of amity. It is the root of plenty, the tree of pleasure, the fruit of love, and the sweetness of life. It is like the still night, where all things are at rest, and the quiet sleep, where dreams are not troublesome; or the resolved point, in the perfection of knowledge, where no cares nor doubts make controversies in opinion. It needs no watch where is no fear of enemy, nor solicitor of causes where agreements are concluded. It is the intent of law and the fruit of justice, the end of war and the beginning of wealth. It is a grace in a court, and a glory in a kingdom, a blessing in a family, and a happiness in a commonwealth. It fills the rich man's coffers, and feeds the poor man's labour. It is the wise man's study, and the good man's joy: who love it are gracious, who make it are blessed, who keep it are happy, and who break it are miserable. It hath no dwelling with idolatry, nor friendship with falsehood; for her life is in truth, and in her all is Amen. But lest in the justice of peace I may rather be reproved for my ignorance of her work than thought worthy to speak in her praise, with this only conclusion in the commendation of peace I will draw to an end and hold my peace:--It was a message of joy at the birth of Christ, a song of joy at the embracement of Christ, an assurance of joy at the death of Christ, and shall be the fulness of joy at the coming of Christ.

WAR.

War is a scourge of the wrath of God, which by famine, fire, or sword humbleth the spirits of the repentant, trieth the patience of the faithful, and hardeneth the hearts of the ungodly. It is the misery of time and the terror of Nature, the dispeopling of the earth and the ruin of her beauty. Her life is action, her food blood, her honour valour, and her joy conquest. She is valour's exercise and honour's adventure, reason's trouble and peace's enemy: she is the stout man's love and the weak man's fear, the poor man's toil and the rich man's plague: she is the armourer's benefactor and the chirurgeon's agent, the coward's ague and the desperate's overthrow. She is the wish of envy, the plague of them that wish her, the shipwreck of life, and the agent for death. The best of her is, that she is the seasoner of the body and the manager of the mind for the enduring of labour in the resolution of action. She thunders in the air, rips up the earth, cuts through the seas, and consumes with the fire: she is indeed the invention of malice, the work of mischief, the music of hell, and the dance of the devil. She makes the end of youth untimely and of age wretched, the city's sack and the country's beggary: she is the captain's pride and the captive's sorrow, the throat of blood and the grave of flesh. She is the woe of the world, the punishment of sin, the passage of danger, and the messenger of destruction. She is the wise man's warning and the fool's payment, the godly man's grief and the wicked man's game. In sum, so many are her wounds, so mortal her cures, so dangerous her course, and so devilish her devices, that I will wade no further in her rivers of blood, but only thus conclude in her description:--She is God's curse and man's misery, hell's practice and earth's hell.

VALOUR.

Valour is a 'virtue in the spirit which keeps the flesh in subjection, resolves without fear, and travails without fainting: she vows no villainy nor breaks her fidelity: she is patient in captivity and pitiful in conquest. Her gain is honour and desert her mean, fortune her scorn and folly her hate; wisdom is her guide and conquest her grace, clemency her praise and humility her glory: she is youth's ornament and age's honour, nature's blessing and virtue's love. Her life is resolution and her love victory, her triumph truth, and her fame virtue. Her arms are from antiquity and her coat full of honour, where the title of grace hath her heraldry from heaven. She makes a walk of war and a sport of danger, an ease of labour and a jest of death: she makes famine but abstinence, want but a patience, sickness but a purge, and death a puff. She is the maintainer of war, the general of an army, the terror of an enemy, and the glory of a camp. She is the nobleness of the mind and the strength of the body, the life of hope and the death of fear. With a handful of men she overthrows a multitude, and with a sudden amazement she discomfits a camp. She is the revenge of wrong and the defence of right, religion's champion and virtue's choice. In brief, let this suffice in her commendation:--She strengthened David and conquered Goliath, she overthrows her enemies and conquers herself.

RESOLUTION.

Resolution is the honour of valour, in the quarrel of virtue, for the defence of right and redress of wrong. She beats the march, pitcheth the battle, plants the ordnance, and maintains the fight. Her ear is stopped for dissuasions, her eye aims only at honour, her hand takes the sword of valour, and her heart thinks of nothing but victory. She gives the charge, makes the stand, assaults the fort, and enters the breach. She breaks the pikes, faceth the shot, damps the soldier, and defeats the army. She loseth no time, slips no occasion, dreads no danger, and cares for no force. She is valour's life and virtue's love, justice's honour and mercy's glory. She beats down castles, fires ships, wades through the sea, and walks through the world. She makes wisdom her guide and will her servant, reason her companion and honour her mistress. She is a blessing in Nature and a beauty in reason, a grace in invention and a glory in action. She studies no plots when her platform is set down, and defers no time when her hour is prefixed. She stands upon no helps when she knows her own force, and in the execution of her will she is a rock irremovable. She is the king's will without contradiction, and the judge's doom without exception, the scholar's profession without alteration, and the soldier's honour without comparison. In sum, so many are the grounds of her grace and the just causes of her commendation, that, leaving her worth to the description of better wits, I will in these few words conclude my conceit of her:--She is the stoutness of the heart and the strength of the mind, a gift of God and the glory of the world.

HONOUR.

Honour is a title or grace given by the spirit of virtue to the desert of valour in the defence of truth; it is wronged in baseness and abused in unworthiness, and endangered in wantonness and lost in wickedness. It nourisheth art and crowneth wit, graceth learning and glorifieth wisdom; in the heraldry of heaven it hath the richest coat, being in nature allied unto all the houses of grace, which in the heaven of heavens attend the King of kings. Her escutcheon is a heart, in which in the shield of faith she bears on the anchor of hope the helmet of salvation: she quarters with wisdom in the resolution of valour, and in the line of charity she is the house of justice. Her supporters are time and patience, her mantle truth, and her crest Christ treading upon the globe of the world, her impress _Corona mea Christus_. In brief, finding her state so high that I am not able to climb unto the praise of her perfection, I will leave her royalty to the register of most princely spirits, and in my humble heart thus only deliver my opinion of her:--She is virtue's due and grace's gift, valour's wealth and reason's joy.

TRUTH.

Truth is the glory of time and the daughter of eternity, a title of the highest grace, and a note of a divine nature. She is the life of religion, the light of love, the grace of wit, and the crown of wisdom: she is the beauty of valour, the brightness of honour, the blessing of reason, and the joy of faith. Her truth is pure gold, her time is right precious, her word is most gracious, and her will is most glorious. Her essence is in God and her dwelling with His servants, her will in His wisdom and her work to His glory. She is honoured in love and graced in constancy, in patience admired and in charity beloved. She is the angel's worship, the virgin's fame, the saint's bliss, and the martyr's crown: she is the king's greatness and his counsel's goodness, his subject's peace and his kingdom's praise: she is the life of learning and the light of law, the honour of trade and the grace of labour. She hath a pure eye, a plain hand, a piercing wit, and a perfect heart. She is wisdom's walk in the way of holiness, and takes up her rest but in the resolution of goodness. Her tongue never trips, her heart never faints, her hand never fails, and her faith never fears. Her church is without schism, her city without fraud, her court without vanity, and her kingdom without villainy. In sum, so infinite is her excellence in the construction of all sense, that I will thus only conclude in the wonder of her worth:--She is the nature of perfection in the perfection of Nature, where God in Christ shows the glory of Christianity.

TIME.

Time is a continual motion, which from the highest Mover hath his operation in all the subjects of Nature, according to their quality or disposition. He is in proportion like a circle, wherein he walketh with an even passage to the point of his prefixed place. He attendeth none, and yet is a servant to all; he is best employed by wisdom, and most abused by folly. He carrieth both the sword and the sceptre, for the use both of justice and mercy. He is present in all inventions, and cannot be spared from action. He is the treasury of graces in the memory of the wise, and brings them forth to the world upon necessity of their use. He openeth the windows of heaven to give light unto the earth, and spreads the cloak of the night to cover the rest of labour. He closeth the eye of Nature and waketh the spirit of reason; he travelleth through the mind, and is visible but to the eye of understanding. He is swifter than the wind, and yet is still as a stone; precious in his right use, but perilous in the contrary. He is soon found of the careful soul, and quickly missed in the want of his comfort: he is soon lost in the lack of employment, and not to be recovered without a world of endeavour. He is the true man's peace and the thief's perdition, the good man's blessing and the wicked man's curse. He is known to be, but his being unknown, but only in his being in a being above knowledge. He is a riddle not to be read but in the circumstance of description, his name better known than his nature, and he that maketh best use of him hath the best understanding of him. He is like the study of the philosopher's stone, where a man may see wonders and yet short of his expectation. He is at the invention of war, arms the soldier, maintains the quarrel, and makes the peace. He is the courtier's playfellow and the soldier's schoolmaster, the lawyer's gain and the merchant's hope. His life is motion and his love action, his honour patience and his glory perfection. He masketh modesty and blusheth virginity, honoureth humility and graceth charity. In sum, finding it a world to walk through the wonder of his worth, I will thus briefly deliver what I find truly of him:--He is the agent of the living and the register of the dead, the direction of God and a great work-master in the world.

DEATH.

Death is an ordinance of God for the subjecting of the world, which is limited to his time for the correction of pride: in his substance he is nothing, being but only ii deprivation, and in his true description a name without a nature. He is seen but in a picture, heard but in a tale, feared but in a passion, and felt but in a pinch. He is a terror but to the wicked, and a scarecrow but to the foolish; but to the wise a way of comfort, and to the godly the gate to life. He is the ease of pain and the end of sorrow, the liberty of the imprisoned and the joy of the faithful; it is both the wound of sin and the wages of sin, the sinner's fear and the sinner's doom. He is the sexton's agent and the hangman's revenue, the rich man's dirge and the mourner's merry-day. He is a course of time but uncertain till he come, and welcome but to such as are weary of their lives. It is a message from the physician when the patient is past cure, and if the writ be well made, it is a _supersedeas_ for all diseases. It is the heaven's stroke and the earth's steward, the follower of sickness and the forerunner to hell In sum, having no pleasure to ponder too much of the power of it, I will thus conclude my opinion of it:--It is a sting of sin and the terror of the wicked, the crown of the godly, the stair of vengeance, and a stratagem of the devil.

FAITH.

Faith is the hand of the soul which layeth hold of the promises of Christ in the mercy of the Almighty. She hath a bright eye and a holy ear, a clear heart and sure foot: she is the strength of hope, the trust of truth, the honour of amity, and the joy of love. She is rare among the sons of men and hardly found among the daughters of women; but among the sons of God she is a conveyance of their inheritance, and among the daughters of grace she is the assurance of their portions. Her dwelling is in the Church of God, her conversation with the saints of God, her delight with the beloved of God, and her life is in the love of God. She knows no falsehood, distrusts no truth, breaks no promise, and coins no excuse; but as bright as the sun, as swift as the wind, as sure as the rock, and as pure as the gold, she looks toward heaven but lives in the world, in the souls of the elect to the glory of election. She was wounded in Paradise by a dart of the devil, and healed of her hurt by the death of Christ Jesus. She is the poor man's credit and the rich man's praise, the wise man's care and the good man's cognisance. In sum, finding her worth in words hardly to be expressed, I will in these few words only deliver my opinion of her:--She is God's blessing and man's bliss, reason's comfort and virtue's glory.

FEAR.

Fear is a fruit of sin, which drove the first father of our flesh from the presence of God, and hath bred an imperfection in a number of the worse part of his posterity. It is the disgrace of nature, the foil of reason, the maim of wit, and the slur of understanding. It is the palsy of the spirit where the soul wanteth faith, and the badge of a coward that cannot abide the sight of a sword. It is weakness in nature and a wound in patience, the death of hope and the entrance into despair. It is children's awe and fools' amazement, a worm in conscience and a curse to wickedness. In brief, it makes the coward stagger, the liar stammer, the thief stumble, and the traitor start. It is a blot in arms, a blur in honour, the shame of a soldier, and the defeat of an army.

* * * * *

_Breton's next little prose book, published in the following year, 1616--year of the death of Shakespeare--was a set of Characters, "The Good and the Bad," without suggestion that they were built upon the lines of Bacon's Essays. Bacon's Essays first appeared as a set of ten in 1597, became a set of forty in the revised edition of 1612, and of fifty-eight in the edition of 1625, published a year before their author's death. In their sententious brevity Bacon's Essays have, of course, a style more nearly allied to the English Character Writing of the Seventeenth Century than to the Sixteenth Century Essays of Montaigne, which were altogether different in style, matter, and aim. This, for example, was Bacon's first Essay in the 1597 edition:--_

OF STUDIES.

Studies serve for pastimes, for ornaments, for abilities; their chief use for pastimes is in privateness and retiring, for ornaments in discourse, and for ability in judgment; for expert men can execute, but learned men are more fit to judge and censure. To spend too much time in them is sloth; to use them too much for ornament is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humour of a scholar; they perfect nature, and are themselves perfected by experience; crafty men contemn them, wise men use them, simple men admire them; for they teach not their own use, but that there is a wisdom without them and above them won by observation. Read not to contradict nor to believe, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some are to be read only in parts, others to be read but curiously, and some few to be read wholly with diligence and attention. Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready, and writing an exact man; therefore, if a man write little, he had need of a great memory; if he confer little, he had need of a present wit; and if he read little, he had need have much cunning to seem to know that he doth not know. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend.

THE GOOD AND THE BAD;

OR,

DESCRIPTIONS OF THE WORTHIES AND

UNWORTHIES OF THIS AGE.

BY NICHOLAS BRETON.

A WORTHY KING.

A worthy king is a figure of God, in the nature of government. He is the chief of men and the Church's champion, Nature's honour and earth's majesty: is the director of law and the strength of the same, the sword of justice and the sceptre of mercy, the glass of grace and the eye of honour, the terror of treason and the life of loyalty. His command is general and his power absolute, his frown a death and his favour a life: his charge is his subjects, his care their safety, his pleasure their peace, and his joy their love. He is not to be paralleled, because he is without equality, and the prerogative of his crown must not be contradicted. He is the Lord's anointed, and therefore must not be touched, and the head of a public body, and therefore must be preserved. He is a scourge of sin and a blessing of grace, God's vicegerent over His people, and under Him supreme governor. His safety must be his council's care, his health his subjects' prayer, his pleasure his peers' comfort, and his content his kingdom's gladness. His presence must be reverenced, his person attended, his court adorned, and his state maintained. His bosom must not be searched, his will not disobeyed, his wants not unsupplied, nor his place unregarded. In sum, he is more than a man, though not a god, and next under God to be honoured above man.

AN UNWORTHY KING.

An unworthy king is the usurper of power, where tyranny in authority loseth the glory of majesty, while the fear of terror frighteneth love from obedience; for when the lion plays with the wolf, the lamb dies with the ewe. He is a messenger of wrath to be the scourge of sin, or the trial of patience in the hearts of the religious. He is a warrant of woe in the execution of his fury, and in his best temper a doubt of grace. He is a dispeopler of his kingdom and a prey to his enemies, an undelightful friend and a tormentor of himself. He knows no God, but makes an idol of Nature, and useth reason but to the ruin of sense. His care is but his will, his pleasure but his ease, his exercise but sin, and his delight but inhuman. His heaven is his pleasure, and his gold is his god. His presence is terrible, his countenance horrible, his words uncomfortable, and his actions intolerable. In sum, he is the foil of a crown, the disgrace of a court, the trouble of a council, and the plague of a kingdom.

A WORTHY QUEEN.

A worthy queen is the figure of a king who, under God in His grace, hath a great power over His people. She is the chief of women, the beauty of her court, and the grace of her sex in the royalty of her spirit. She is like the moon, that giveth light among the stars, and, but unto the sun, gives none place in her brightness. She is the pure diamond upon the king's finger, and the orient pearl unprizeable in his eye, the joy of the court in the comfort of the king, and the wealth of the kingdom in the fruit of her love. She is reason's honour in nature's grace, and wisdom's love in virtue's beauty. In sum, she is the handmaid of God, and the king's second self, and in his grace, the beauty of a kingdom.

A WORTHY PRINCE.

A worthy prince is the hope of a kingdom, the richest jewel in a king's crown, and the fairest flower in the queen's garden. He is the joy of nature in the hope of honour, and the love of wisdom in the life of worthiness. In the secret carriage of his heart's intention, till his designs come to action, he is a dumb show to the world's imagination. In his wisdom he startles the spirits of expectation in his valour, he subjects the hearts of ambition in his virtue, he wins the love of the noblest, and in his bounty binds the service of the most sufficient. He is the crystal glass, where nature may see her comfort, and the book of reason, where virtue may read her honour. He is the morning star that hath light from the sun, and the blessed fruit of the tree of earth's paradise. He is the study of the wise in the state of honour, and is the subject of learning, the history of admiration. In sum, he is the note of wisdom, the aim of honour, and in the honour of virtue the hope of a kingdom.

AN UNWORTHY PRINCE.

An unworthy prince is the fear of a kingdom. When will and power carry pride in impatience, in the close carriage of ambitious intention, he is like a fearful dream to a troubled spirit. In his passionate humours he frighteneth the hearts of the prudent, in the delight of vanities he loseth the love of the wise, and in the misery of avarice is served only with the needy. He is like a little mist before the rising of the sun, which, the more it grows, the less good it doth. He is the king's grief and the queen's sorrow, the court's trouble and the kingdom's curse. In sum, he is the seed of unhappiness, the fruit of ungodliness, the taste of bitterness, and the digestion of heaviness.

A WORTHY PRIVY COUNCILLOR.

A worthy privy councillor is the pillar of a realm, in whose wisdom and care, under God and the king, stands the safety of a kingdom. He is the watch-tower to give warning of the enemy, and a hand of provision for the preservation of the state. He is an oracle in the king's ear, and a sword in the king's hand; an even weight in the balance of justice, and a light of grace in the love of truth. He is an eye of care in the course of law, a heart of love in his service to his sovereign, a mind of honour in the order of his service, and a brain of invention for the good of the commonwealth. His place is powerful while his service is faithful, and his honour due in the desert of his employment. In sum, he is as a fixed planet among the stars of the firmament, which through the clouds in the air shows the nature of his light.

AN UNWORTHY COUNCILLOR.

An unworthy councillor is the hurt of a king and the danger of a state, when the weakness of judgment may commit an error, or the lack of care may give way to unhappiness. He is a wicked charm in the king's ear, a sword of terror in the advice of tyranny. His power is perilous in the partiality of will, and his heart full of hollowness in the protestation of love. Hypocrisy is the cover of his counterfeit religion, and traitorous invention is the agent of his ambition. He is the cloud of darkness that threateneth foul weather; and if it grow to a storm, it is fearful where it falls. He is an enemy to God in the hate of grace, and worthy of death in disloyalty to his sovereign. In sum, he is an unfit person for the place of a councillor and an unworthy subject to look a king in the face.

A NOBLEMAN.

A nobleman is a mark of honour, where the eye of wisdom in the observation of desert sees the fruit of grace. He is the orient pearl that reason polisheth for the beauty of nature, and the diamond spark where divine grace gives virtue honour. He is the notebook of moral discipline, where the conceit of care may find the true courtier. He is the nurse of hospitality, the relief of necessity, the love of charity, and the life of bounty. He is learning's grace and valour's fame, wisdom's fruit and kindness' love. He is the true falcon that feeds on no carrion, the true horse that will be no hackney, the true dolphin that fears not the whale, and the true man of God that fears not the devil. In sum, he is the darling of nature in reason's philosophy, the loadstar of light in love's astronomy, the ravishing sweet in the music of honour, and the golden number in grace's arithmetic.

AN UNNOBLE MAN.

An unnoble man is the grief of reason, when the title of honour is put upon the subject of disgrace; when either the imperfection of wit or the folly of will shows an unfitness in nature for the virtue of advancement. He is the eye of baseness and spirit of grossness, and in the demean of rudeness the scorn of nobleness. He is a suspicion of a right generation in the nature of his disposition, and a miserable plague to a feminine patience. Wisdom knows him not, learning bred him not, virtue loves him not, and honour fits him not. Prodigality or avarice are the notes of his inclination, and folly or mischief are the fruits of his invention. In sum, he is the shame of his name, the disgrace of his place, the blot of his title, and the ruin of his house.

A WORTHY BISHOP.