OF THE HUMBLE MAN.

He is a friendly enemy to himself; for, though he be not out of his own

favour, no man sets so low a value of his worth as himself--not out of

ignorance or carelessness, but of a voluntary and meek dejectedness. He

admires everything in another, while the same or better in himself he

thinks not unworthily contemned. His eyes are full of his own wants, and

others' perfections. He loves rather to give than take honour; not in a

fashion of complimental courtesy, but in simplicity of his judgment.

Neither doth he fret at those on whom he forceth precedence, as one that

hoped their modesty would have refused; but holds his mind unfeignedly

below his place, and is ready to go lower (if need be) without

discontent. When he hath his due, he magnifieth courtesy, and disclaims

his deserts. He can be more ashamed of honour than grieved with

contempt; because he thinks that causeless, this deserved. His face, his

carriage, his habit, savour of lowliness without affectation, and yet he

is much under that he seemeth. His words are few and soft, never either

peremptory or censorious; because he thinks both each man more wise, and

none more faulty than himself. And, when he approacheth to the throne of

God, he is so taken up with the Divine greatness that, in his own eyes,

he is either vile or nothing. Places of public charge are fain to sue to

him, and hail him out of his chosen obscurity; which he holds ofif, not

cunningly, to cause importunity, but sincerely, in the conscience of his

defects. He frequenteth not the stages of common resorts, and then alone

thinks himself in his natural element when he is shrouded within his own

walls. He is ever jealous over himself, and still suspecteth that which

others applaud. There is no better object of beneficence; for what he

receives he ascribes merely to the bounty of the giver, nothing to

merit. He emulates no man in anything but goodness, and that with more

desire than hope to overtake. No man is so contented with his little,

and so patient under miseries; because he knows the greatest evils are

below his sins, and the least favours above his deservings. He walks

ever in awe, and dare not but subject every word and action to an high

and just censure. He is a lowly valley, sweetly planted and well

watered; the proud man's earth, whereon he trampleth; but secretly full

of wealthy mines, more worth than he that walks over them; a rich stone

set in lead; and, lastly, a true temple of God built with a low roof.

Character Writings of the Seventeenth Century · 第 130 / 429 题