r than a good angel clothed in flesh.

OF THE TRULY NOBLE.

He stands not upon what he borrowed of his ancestors, but thinks he must
work out his own honour: and if he cannot reach the virtue of them that
gave him outward glory by inheritance, he is more abashed of his
impotency than transported with a great name. Greatness doth not make
him scornful and imperious, but rather like the fixed stars; the higher
he is, the less he desires to seem. Neither cares he so much for pomp
and frothy ostentation as for the solid truth of nobleness. Courtesy and
sweet affability can be no more severed from him than life from his
soul; not out of a base and servile popularity, and desire of ambitious
insinuation, but of a native gentleness of disposition, and true value
of himself. His hand is open and bounteous, yet not so as that he should
rather respect his glory than his estate; wherein his wisdom can
distinguish betwixt parasites and friends, betwixt changing of favours
and expending them. He scorneth to make his height a privilege of
looseness, but accounts his titles vain if he be inferior to others in
goodness: and thinks he should be more strict the more eminent he is,
because he is more observed, and now his offences are become more
exemplar. There is no virtue that he holds unfit for ornament, for use;
nor any vice which he condemns not as sordid, and a fit companion of
baseness; and whereof he doth not more hate the blemish, than affect the
pleasure. He so studies as one that knows ignorance can neither purchase
honour nor wield it; and that knowledge must both guide and grace, him.
His exercises are from his childhood ingenious, manly, decent, and such
as tend still to wit, valour, activity: and if (as seldom) he descend to
disports of chance, his games shall never make him either pale with fear
or hot with desire of gain. He doth not so use his followers, as if he
thought they were made for nothing but his servitude, whose felicity
were only to be commanded and please: wearing them to the back, and then
either finding or framing excuses to discard them empty; but upon all
opportunities lets them feel the sweetness of their own serviceableness
and his bounty. Silence in officious service is the best oratory to
plead for his respect: all diligence is but lent to him, none lost. His
wealth stands in receiving, his honour in giving. He cares not either
how many hold of his goodness, or to how few he is beholden: and if h