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.



OF THE TRUE FRIEND.

His affections are both united and divided; united to him he loveth,
divided betwixt another and himself; and his one heart is so parted,
that whilst he has some his friend hath all. His choice is led by
virtue, or by the best of virtues, religion; not by gain, not by
pleasure; yet not without respect of equal condition, of disposition not
unlike; which, once made, admits of no change, except he whom he loveth
be changed quite from himself; nor that suddenly, but after long
expectation. Extremity doth but fasten him, whilst he, like a
well-wrought vault, lies the stronger, by how much more weight he bears.
When necessity calls him to it, he can be a servant to his equal, with
the same will wherewith he can command his inferior; and though he rise
to honour, forgets not his familiarity, nor suffers inequality of estate
to work strangeness of countenance; on the other side, he lifts up his
friend to advancement with a willing hand, without envy, without
dissimulation. When his mate is dead, he accounts himself but half