An English bishop and the author of numerous devotional works, Joseph Hall is credited with initiating the 17th-century fashion for character-writing. In Characters of Virtues and Vices (1608), a collection modeled after the writings of Theophrastus, Hall provided brief sketches of such familiar types as "The Valiant Man," "The Flatterer," "The Envious," and (reprinted here) "The True Friend."
Though Hall is famous for his plain, Senecan style, the staccato rhythms of his prose were considered by some (including John Milton) to be monotonously tiresome.
The True Friend
by Joseph Hall
His affections are both united and divided: united, to him he loveth; divided, betwixt another and himself: and his own heart is so parted, that, while he hath 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; while 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 alive: then his love, not dissolved by death, derives itself to those orphans, which never knew the price of their father: they become the heirs of his affection, and the burden of his cares. He embraces a free community of all things; save those, which either honesty reserves proper, or nature: and hates to enjoy that, which would do his friend more good. His charity serves to cloak noted infirmities; not by untruth, not by flattery; but by discreet secrecy: neither is he more favourable in concealment, than round in his private reprehensions; and, when another's simple fidelity shews itself in his reproof, he loves his monitor so much the more, by how much more he smarteth. His bosom is his friend's closet, where he may safely lay up his complaints, his doubts, his cares: and look, how he leaves, so he finds them; save for some addition of seasonable counsel for redress. If some unhappy suggestion shall either disjoint his affection or break it, it soon knits again; and grows the stronger, by that stress. He is so sensible of another's injuries, that, when his friend is stricken, he cries out, and equally smarteth untouched; as one affected, not with sympathy, but with a real feeling of pain: and, in what mischief may be prevented, he interposeth his aid; and offers to redeem his friend, with himself: no hour can be unseasonable, no business difficult, nor pain grievous, in condition of his ease; and what either he doth or suffereth, he neither cares nor desires to have known, lest he should seem to look for thanks. If he can, therefore, steal the performance of a good office unseen, the conscience of his faithfulness herein is so much sweeter, as it is more secret. In favours done, his memory is frail; in benefits received, eternal: he scorneth, either to regard recompence, or not to offer it. He is the comfort of miseries; the guide of difficulties; the joy of life; the treasure of earth; and no other, than a good angel clothed in flesh.
