Works of Joseph Hall, Character 11 – Proem 2
He is an Happy man.
THat hath learn'd to reade himſelfe more than all bookes; and hath ſo taken out this leſſon, that he can neuer forget it; That knowes the world, and cares not for it; That after many trauerſes of thoughts, is growne to know what he may truſt to, and ſtands now equally armed for all euents: That hath got the maſtery at home, ſo as he can croſſe his will without a mutiny, and ſo pleaſe it, that he makes it not a wanton: That in earthly things wiſhes no more than nature; in ſpirituall, is euer graciouſly ambitious: That for his condition, ſtands on his owne feet, not needing to leane vponupon the great; and can ſo frame his thoughts to his eſtate, that when he hath leaſt, he cannot want, becauſe he is as free from deſire, as ſuperfluity: That hath ſeaſonably broken the head-ſtrong reſtineſſe of proſperitie, and can now menage it at pleaſure: VponUpon whom, all ſmall or croſſes light as haile-ſtones vponupon a roofe; and for the greater calamities, he can take them as tributes of life, and tokens of louelove; and if his ſhip be toſſed, yet he is ſure his Anchor is faſt. If all the world were his, he could be no other than he is; no whit gladder of himſelfelfe, no whit higher in his carriage, becauſe he knowes, contentment lies not in the things hee hath, but in the minde that values them. The powers of his reſolution can either multiply, or ſubſtract at pleaſure. He can make his cottage a Mannor, or a Palace when hee liſts; and his home-cloſe, a large dominion; his ſtaind cloth, Arras; his earth, plate; and can ſee ſtate in the attendance of one ſeruant; as one that hath learned, a mans greatneſſe or baſeneſſe is in himſelfe; and in this, he may euen conteſt with the proud, that he thinks his owne the beſt. Or, if he muſt be outwardly great, he can but turne the other end of the glaſſe, and make his ſtately Mannor a low and ſtrait Cottage; and in all his coſtly furniture hee can ſee not richneſſe, but vſe; he can ſee droſſe in the beſt mettall, and earth thorow the beſt clothes; and in all his troupe, he can ſee himſelfe his owne ſeruant. He liues quietly at home, out of the noiſe of the world, and loues to enioy himſelfe alwaies, and ſometimes his friend, and hath as full ſcope to his thoughts, as to his eies. Hee walkes euer euen, in the mid-way betwixt hopes and feares, reſolued to feare nothing but God, to hope for nothing but that which he muſt hauehave. Hee hath a wiſe and vertuous minde in a ſeruiceable body; which that better part affects as a preſent ſeruant, and a future companion; ſo cheriſhing his fleſh, as one that would ſcorne to be all fleſh. He hath no enemies, not for that all louelove him, but becauſe he knowes to make a gaine of malice. He is not ſo ingaged to any earthly thing, that they two cannot part on euen tearmes; there is neither laughter in their meeting, nor in their ſhaking of hands, teares. He keepes euer the beſt company, the God of Spirits, and the Spirits of that God; whom he entertaines continually in an awfull familiaritie, not being hindred, either with too much light, or with none at all. His conſcience and his hand are friends, and (what Deuill ſoeuer tempt him) will not fall out. That diuine part goes euer vprightly and freely, not ſtooping vnderunder the burthen of a willing ſinne, not fettered with the gieues of vniuſt ſcruples. He would not, if he could, run away from himſelfe, or from God; not caring from whom he lies hid, ſo he may looke theſe two in the face. Cenſures and applauſes are paſſengers to him, not gheſts; his eare is their thorow-fare, not their harbour; he hath learned to fetch both his counſell, and his ſentence from his owne breaſt. He doth not lay weight vponupon his owne ſhoulders, as one that loues to torment himſelfe with the honor of much imploiment; but as he makes worke his game, ſo doth he not liſt to make himſelfe worke. His ſtrife is euer to redeeme, and not to ſpend time. It is his trade to doe good; and to thinke of it, his recreation. He hath hands enow for himſelfe and others, which are euer ſtretched forth for beneficence, not for need. He walkes cheerefully in the way that God hath chalked, and neuer wiſhes it more wide, or more ſmooth. Thoſe very tentations whereby he is foiled, ſtrengthen him; hee comes forth crowned, and triumphing out of the ſpirituall Battels, and thoſe ſcarres that he hath, make him beautifull. His ſoule is eueryevery day dilated to receiue that God, in whom he is; and hath attained to louelove himſelfe for God, and God for his owne ſake. His eies ſtick ſo faſt in heauen, that no earthly obiect can remoue them; yea his whole ſelfe is there before his time, and ſees with Steuen, and heares with Paul, and enioyes with Lazarus, the glorie that he ſhall hauehave; and takes poſſeſſion before-hand of his roome amongſt the Saints: and theſe heauenly contentments hauehave ſo taken him vp, that now he lookes downe diſpleaſedly vponupon the earth, as the region of his ſorrow and baniſhment; yet ioying more in hope, than troubled with the ſenſe of euils; he holds it no great matter to liue, and his greateſt buſineſſe to die: and is ſo well acquainted with his laſt gheſt, that he feares no vnkindneſſe from him: neither makes he any other of dying, than of walking home when he is abroad, or of going to bed when he is weary of the day. He is well prouided for both worlds, and is ſure of peace here, of glory hereafter; and therefore hath a light heart, and a cheerefull face. All his fellow-creatures reioyce to ſerue him; his betters, the Angels, louelove to obſerue him; God himſelfe takes pleaſure to conuerſe with him, and hath Sainted him afore his death, and in his death crowned him.
THE SECOND BOOKE.
CHARACTERISMES OF ƲICES.
By IOS. HALL.
By IOS. HALL.
SIC ELEVABITVR FILIVS HOMINIS
Io 3.
ANCHORA FIDEI:
LONDON, Printed for THOMAS PAVIER, MILES FLESHER, and John Haviland. 1624.
THE PROOEME.
I HaueHave ſhewed you many faire Ʋertues: I ſpeake not for them; if their ſight cannot command affection, let them loſe it. They ſhall pleaſe yet better, after you hauehave troubled your eies a little with the view of deformities; and by how much more they pleaſe, ſo much more odious, and like themſelues, ſhall theſe deformities appeare. This light, contraries giuegive to each other, in the midſt of their enmitie, that one makes the other ſeeme more good, or ill. Perhaps in ſome of theſe (which thing I doe at once feare, and hate) my ſtile ſhall ſeeme to ſome leſſe graue, more Satyricall: if you finde mee not without cauſe iealous, let it pleaſe you to impute it to the nature of thoſe Ʋices, which will not bee otherwiſe handled. The faſhions of ſome euils are beſides the odiouſneſſe, ridiculous; which to repeat, is to ſeeme bitterly merry. J abhorre to make ſport with wickedneſſe, and forbid any laughter here, but of diſdaine. Hypocriſie ſhall leade this ring; worthily, I thinke, becauſe both ſhe commeth neereſt to Ʋertue, and is the worſt of Vices.