Character Writings of the Seventeenth Century Part 18

An unworthy gentleman is the scoff of wit and the scorn of honour, where more wealth than wit is worshipped of simplicity; who spends more in idleness than would maintain thrift, or hides more in misery than might purchase honour; whose delights are vanities and whose pleasures fopperies, whose studies fables and whose exercise worse than follies.

His conversation is base, and his conference ridiculous; his affections ungracious, and his actions ignominious; his apparel out of fashion, and his diet out of order; his carriage out of square, and his company out of request. In sum, he is like a mongrel dog with a velvet collar, a cart-horse with a golden saddle, a buzzard kite with a falcon's bells, or a baboon with a pied jerkin.

A WORTHY LAWYER.

A worthy lawyer is the student of knowledge how to bring controversies into a conclusion of peace, and out of ignorance to gain understanding.

He divides time into uses, and cases into constructions. He lays open obscurities, and is praised for the speech of truth; and in the court of conscience pleads much _in forma pauperis_, for small fees. He is a mean for the preservation of t.i.tles and the holding of possessions, and a great instrument of peace in the judgment of impartiality. He is the client's hope in his case's pleading, and his heart's comfort in a happy issue. He is the finder out of tricks in the craft of ill conscience, and the joy of the distressed in the relief of justice. In sum, he is a maker of peace among spirits of contention, and a continuer of quiet in the execution of the law.

AN UNWORTHY LAWYER.

An unlearned and unworthily called a lawyer, is the figure of a foot-post, who carries letters but knows not what is in them, only can read the superscriptions to direct them to their right owners. So trudgeth this simple clerk, that can scarce read a case when it is written, with his handful of papers from one court to another, and from one counsellor's chamber to another, when by his good payment for his pains he will be so saucy as to call himself a solicitor. But what a taking are poor clients in when this too much trusted cunning companion, better read in Piers Plowman than in Plowden, and in the play of "Richard the Third" than in the pleas of Edward the Fourth, persuades them all is sure when he is sure of all! and in what a misery are the poor men when upon a _Nihil dicit_, because indeed this poor fellow _Nihil potest dicere_, they are in danger of an execution before they know wherefore they are condemned. But I wish all such more wicked than witty unlearned in the law and abusers of the same, to look a little better into their consciences, and to leave their crafty courses, lest when the law indeed lays them open, instead of carrying papers in their hands, they wear not papers on their heads; and instead of giving ear to their client's causes or rather eyes into their purses, they have never an ear left to hear withal, nor good eye to see withal, or at least honest face to look out withal; but as the gra.s.shoppers of Egypt, be counted the caterpillars of England, and not the fox that stole the goose, but the great fox that stole the farm from the gander.

A WORTHY SOLDIER.

A worthy soldier is the child of valour, who was born for the service of necessity, and to bear the ensign of honour in the actions of worth. He is the dyer of the earth with blood, and the ruin of the erections of pride. He is the watch of wit, the advantage of time, and the executioner of wrath upon the wilful offender. He disputes questions with the point of a sword, and prefers death to indignities. He is a lion to ambition, and a lamb to submission; he hath hope fast by the hand, and treads upon the head of fear. He is the king's champion, and the kingdom's guard; peace's preserver, and rebellion's terror. He makes the horse trample at the sound of a trumpet, and leads on to a battle as if he were going to a breakfast. He knows not the nature of cowardice, for his rest is set up upon resolution; his strongest fortification is his mind, which beats off the a.s.saults of idle humours, and his life is the pa.s.sage of danger, where an undaunted spirit stoops to no fortune.

With his arms he wins his arms, and by his desert in the field his honour in the court. In sum, in the truest manhood he is the true man, and in the creation of honour a most worthy creature.

AN UNTRAINED SOLDIER.

An untrained soldier is like a young hound, that when he first falls to hunt, he knows not how to lay his nose to the earth; who, having his name but in a book, and marched twice about a market-place, when he comes to a piece of service knows not how to bestow himself. He marches as if he were at plough, carries his pike like a pike-staff, and his sword before him for fear of losing from his side. If he be a shot, he will be rather ready to say a grace over his piece, and so to discharge his hands of it, than to learn how to discharge it with a grace. He puts on his armour over his ears, like a waistcoat, and wears his morion like a nightcap. When he is quartered in the field, he looks for his bed, and when he sees his provant, he is ready to cry for his victuals; and ere he know well where he is, wish heartily he were at home again, with his head hanging down as if his heart were in his hose. He will sleep till a drum or a deadly bullet awake him; and so carry himself in all companies that, till martial discipline have seasoned his understanding, he is like a cipher among figures, an owl among birds, a wise man among fools, and a shadow among men.

A WORTHY PHYSICIAN.

A worthy physician is the enemy of sickness, in purging nature from corruption. His action is most in feeling of pulses, and his discourses chiefly of the natures of diseases. He is a great searcher out of simples, and accordingly makes his composition. He persuades abstinence and patience for the benefit of health, while purging and bleeding are the chief courses of his counsel. The apothecary and the chirurgeon are his two chief attendants, with whom conferring upon time, he grows temperate in his cures. Surfeits and wantonness are great agents for his employment, when by the secret of his skill out of others' weakness he gathers his own strength. In sum, he is a necessary member for an unnecessary malady, to find a disease and to cure the diseased.

AN UNWORTHY PHYSICIAN.

An unlearned and so unworthy physician is a kind of horse-leech, whose cure is most in drawing of blood, and a desperate purge, either to cure or kill, as it hits. His discourse is most of the cures that he hath done, and them afar of; and not a receipt under a hundred pounds, though it be not worth three halfpence. Upon the market-day he is much haunted with urinals, where if he find anything (though he know nothing), yet he will say somewhat, which if it hit to some purpose, with a few fustian words he will seem a piece of strange stuff. He is never without old merry tales and stale jests to make old folks laugh, and comfits or plums in his pocket to please little children; yea, and he will be talking of complexions, though he know nothing of their dispositions; and if his medicine do a feat, he is a made man among fools; but being wholly unlearned, and ofttimes unhonest, let me thus briefly describe him:--He is a plain kind of mountebank and a true quack-salver, a danger for the sick to deal withal, and a dizzard in the world to talk withal.

A WORTHY MERCHANT.

A worthy merchant is the heir of adventure, whose hopes hang much upon wind. Upon a wooden horse he rides through the world, and in a merry gale he makes a path through the seas. He is a discoverer of countries, and a finder out of commodities, resolute in his attempts, and royal in his expenses. He is the life of traffic and the maintainer of trade, the sailor's master and the soldier's friend. He is the exercise of the exchange, the honour of credit, the observation of time, and the understanding of thrift. His study is number, his care his accounts, his comfort his conscience, and his wealth his good name. He fears not Scylla, and sails close by Charybdis, and having beaten out a storm, rides at rest in a harbour. By his sea-gain he makes his land purchase, and by the knowledge of trade finds the key of treasure. Out of his travels he makes his discourses, and from his eye observations brings the models of architectures. He plants the earth with foreign fruits, and knows at home what is good abroad. He is neat in apparel, modest in demeanour, dainty in diet, and civil in his carriage. In sum, he is the pillar of a city, the enricher of a country, the furnisher of a court, and the worthy servant of a king.

AN UNWORTHY MERCHANT.

An unworthy merchant is a kind of pedlar, who (with the help of a broker) gets more by his wit than by his honesty. He doth sometime use to give out money to gamesters, be paid in post, upon a hand at dice.

Sometime he gains more by baubles than better stuffs, and rather than fail will adventure a false oath for a fraudulent gain. He deals with no wholesale, but all his honesty is at one word; as for wares and weights, he knows how to hold the balance, and for his conscience he is not ignorant what to do with it. His travel is most by land, for he fears to be too busy with the water, and whatever his ware may be, he will be sure of his money. The most of his wealth is in a pack of trifles, and for his honesty I dare not pa.s.s my word for him. If he be rich, it is ten to one of his pride; and if he be poor, he breaks without his fast.

In sum, he is the disgrace of a merchant, the dishonour of a city, the discredit of his parish, and the dislike of all.

A GOOD MAN.

A good man is an image of G.o.d, lord over all His creatures, and created only for His service. He is made capable of reason to know the properties of nature, and by the inspiration of grace to know things supernatural. He hath a face always to look upward, and a soul that gives life to all the senses. He lives in the world as a stranger, while heaven is the home of his spirit. His life is but the labour of sense, and his death the way to his rest. His study is the Word of truth, and his delight is in the law of love. His provision is but to serve necessity, and his care the exercise of charity. He is more conversant with the divine prophets than the world's profits, and makes the joy of his soul in the tidings of his salvation. He is wise in the best wit, and wealthy in the richest treasure. His hope is but the comfort of mercy, and his fear but the hurt of sin. Pride is the hate of his soul, and patience the worker of his peace. His guide is the wisdom of grace, and his travel but to the Heavenly Jerusalem. In sum, he is the elect of G.o.d, the blessing of grace, the seed of love, and the fruit of life.

AN ATHEIST OR MOST BAD MAN.

An atheist is a figure of desperation, who dare do anything even to his soul's d.a.m.nation. He is in nature a dog, in wit an a.s.s, in pa.s.sion a bedlam, and in action a devil. He makes sin a jest, grace a humour, truth a fable, and peace a cowardice. His horse is his pride, his sword is his castle, his apparel his riches, and his punk his paradise. He makes robbery his purchase, lechery his solace, mirth his exercise, and drunkenness his glory. He is the danger of society, the love of vanity, the hate of charity, and the shame of humanity. He is G.o.d's enemy, his parents' grief, his country's plague, and his own confusion. He spoils that is necessary and spends that is needless. He spits at the gracious and spurns the G.o.dly. The tavern is his palace and his belly is his G.o.d; a wh.o.r.e is his mistress and the devil is his master. Oaths are his graces, wounds his badges, shifts are his practices, and beggary his payments. He knows not G.o.d, nor thinks of heaven, but walks through the world as a devil towards h.e.l.l. Virtue knows him not, honesty finds him not, wisdom loves him not, and honour regards him not. He is but the cutler's friend and the chirurgeon's agent, the thief's companion and the hangman's benefactor. He was begotten untimely and born unhappily, lives ungraciously and dies unchristianly. He is of no religion nor good fashion; hardly good complexion, and most vile in condition. In sum, he is a monster among men, a Jew among Christians, a fool among wise men, and a devil among saints.

A WISE MAN.

A wise man is a clock that never strikes but at his home, or rather like a dial that, being set right with the sun, keeps his true course in his compa.s.s. So the heart of a wise man, set in the course of virtue by the spirit of grace, runs the course of life in the compa.s.s of eternal comfort. He measureth time and tempereth nature, employeth reason and commandeth sense. He hath a deaf ear to the charmer, a close mouth to the slanderer, an open hand to charity, and an humble mind to piety.

Observation and experience are his reason's labours, and patience with conscience are the lines of his love's measure; contemplation and meditation are his spirit's exercise, and G.o.d and His Word are the joy of his soul. He knows not the pride of prosperity nor the misery of adversity, but takes the one as the day, the other as the night. He knows no fortune, but builds all upon providence, and through the hope of faith hath a fair aim at heaven. His words are weighed with judgment, and his actions are the examples of honour. He is fit for the seat of authority, and deserves the reverence of subjection. He is precious in the counsel of a king, and mighty in the sway of a kingdom. In sum, he is G.o.d's servant and the world's master, a stranger upon earth, and a citizen in heaven.

A FOOL.

A fool is the abortive of wit, where nature had more power than reason in bringing forth the fruit of imperfection. His actions are most in extremes, and the scope of his brain is but ignorance. Only nature hath taught him to feed, and use to labour without knowledge. He is a kind of a shadow of a better substance, or like the vision of a dream that yields nothing awake. He is commonly known by one or two special names, derived from their qualities, as from wilful Will-fool, and Hodge from hodge-podge; all meats are alike, all are one to a fool. His exercises are commonly divided into four parts, eating and drinking, sleeping and laughing; four things are his chief loves, a bauble and a bell, a c.o.xcomb and a pied-coat. He was begotten in unhappiness, born to no goodness, lives but in beastliness, and dies but in forgetfulness. In sum, he is the shame of nature, the trouble of wit, the charge of charity, and the loss of liberality.

AN HONEST MAN.

An honest man is like a plain coat, which, without welt or guard, keepeth the body from wind and weather, and being well made, fits him best that wears it; and where the stuff is more regarded than the fashion, there is not much ado in the putting of it on. So the mind of an honest man, without trick or compliments, keeps the credit of a good conscience from the scandal of the world and the worm of iniquity, which, being wrought by the workman of heaven, fits him best that wears it to his service; and where virtue is more esteemed than vanity, it is put on and worn with that ease that shows the excellency of the workman.

His study is virtue, his word truth, his life the pa.s.sage of patience, and his death the rest of his spirit. His travail is a pilgrimage, his way is plainness, his pleasure peace, and his delight is love. His care is his conscience, his wealth is his credit, his charge is his chanty, and his content is his kingdom. In sum, he is a diamond among jewels, a phrenix among birds, an unicorn among beasts, and a saint among men.

A KNAVE.

A knave is the sc.u.m of wit and the scorn of reason, the hate of wisdom and the dishonour of humanity. He is the danger of society and the hurt of amity, the infection of youth and the corruption of age. He is a traitor to affiance and abuse to employment, and a rule of villainy in a plot of mischief. He hath a cat's eye and a bear's paw, a siren's tongue and a serpent's sting. His words are lies, his oaths perjuries, his studies subtilties, and his practices villainies; his wealth is his wit, his honour is his wealth, his glory is his gain, and his G.o.d is his gold. He is no man's friend and his own enemy; cursed on earth and banished from heaven. He was begotten ungraciously, born untimely, lives dishonestly, and dies shamefully. His heart is a puddle of poison, his tongue a sting of iniquity, his brain a distiller of deceit, and his conscience a compa.s.s of h.e.l.l. In sum, he is a dog in disposition, a fox in wit, a wolf in his prey, and a devil in his pride.

AN USURER.

An usurer is a figure of misery, who hath made himself a slave to his money. His eye is closed from pity, and his hand from charity; his ear from compa.s.sion, and his heart from piety. While he lives he is the hate of a Christian, and when he dies he goes with horror to h.e.l.l. His study is sparing, and his care is getting; his fear is wanting, and his death is losing. His diet is either fasting or poor fare, his clothing the hangman's wardrobe, his house the receptacle of thievery, and his music the clinking of his money. He is a kind of cancer that with the teeth of interest eats the hearts of the poor, and a venomous fly that sucks out the blood of any flesh that he lights on. In sum, he is a servant of dross, a slave to misery, an agent for h.e.l.l, and a devil in the world.