The patient man is made of a metal, not so hard as flexible: his
shoulders are large, fit for a load of injuries; which he bears not out
of baseness and cowardliness, because he dare not revenge, but out of
Christian fortitude, because he may not: he has so conquered himself
that wrongs cannot conquer him; and herein alone finds that victory
consists in yielding. He is above nature, while he seems below himself.
The vilest creature knows how to turn again; but to command himself not
to resist being urged is more than heroical. His constructions are ever
full of charity and favour; either this wrong was not done, or not with
intent of wrong; or if that, upon mis-information; or if none of these,
rashness (though a fault) shall serve for an excuse. Himself craves the
offender's pardon before his confession; and a slight answer contents
where the offended desires to forgive. He is God's best witness; and
when he stands before the bar for truth his tongue is calmly free, his
forehead firm, and he with erect and settled countenance hears his just
sentence, and rejoices in it. The jailors that attend him are to him his
pages of honour; his dungeon, the lower part of the vault of heaven; his
rack or wheel, the stairs of his ascent to glory: he challenges his
executioners, and encounters the fiercest pains with strength of
resolution; and while he suffers the beholders pity him, the tormentors
complain of weariness, and both of them wonder. No anguish can master
him, whether by violence or by lingering. He accounts expectation no
punishment, and can abide to have his hopes adjourned till a new day.
Good laws serve for his protection, not for his revenge; and his own
power, to avoid indignities, not to return them. His hopes are so strong
that they can insult over the greatest discouragements; and his
apprehensions so deep that, when he hath once fastened, he sooner
leaveth his life than his hold. Neither time nor perverseness can make
him cast off his charitable endeavours and despair of prevailing; but in
spite of all crosses and all denials, he redoubleth his beneficial
offers of love. He trieth the sea after many shipwrecks, and beats still
at that door which he never saw opened. Contrariety of events doth but
exercise, not dismay him; and when crosses afflict him, he sees a divine
hand invisibly striking with these sensible scourges, against which he
dares not rebel nor murmur. Hence all things befall him alike; and he
goes with the same mind to the shambles and to the fold. His recreations
are calm and gentle, and not more full of relaxation than void of fury.
This man only can turn necessity into virtue, and put evil to good use.
He is the surest friend, the latest and easiest enemy, the greatest
conqueror, and so much more happy than others, by how much he could
abide to be more miserable.