verses are like his clothes miserable centoes[48] and patches, yet their
pace is not altogether so hobbling as an almanack's. The death of a
great man or the _burning_[49] of a house furnish him with an argument,
and the nine Muses are out strait in mourning gowns, and Melpomene cries
fire! fire! [His other poems are but briefs in rhyme, and like the poor
Greeks collections to redeem from captivity.] He is a man now much
employed in commendations of our navy, and a bitter inveigher against
the Spaniard. His frequentest works go out in single sheets, and are
chanted from market to market to a vile tune and a worse throat; whilst
the poor country wench melts like her butter to hear them: and these are
the stories of some men of Tyburn, or a strange monster out of
Germany;[50] or, sitting in a bawdy-house, he writes God's judgments. He
drops away at last in some obscure painted cloth, to which himself made
the verses,[51] and his life, like a can too full, spills upon the
bench. He leaves twenty shillings on the score, which my hostess loses.

A PLAUSIBLE MAN

Is one that would fain run an even path in the world, and jut against no
man. His endeavour is not to offend, and his aim the general opinion.
His conversation is a kind of continued compliment, and his life a
practice of manners. The relation he bears to others, a kind of
fashionable respect, not friendship but friendliness, which is equal to
all and general, and his kindnesses seldom exceed courtesies. He loves
not deeper mutualities, because he would not take sides, nor hazard
himself on displeasures, which he principally avoids. At your first
acquaintance with him he is exceedingly kind and friendly, and at your
twentieth meeting after but friendly still. He has an excellent command
over his patience and tongue, especially the last, which he accommodates
always to the times and persons, and speaks seldom what is sincere, but
what is civil. He is one that uses all companies, drinks all healths,
and is reasonable cool in all religions. [He considers who are friends
to the company, and speaks well where he is sure to hear of it again.]
He can listen to a foolish discourse with an applausive attention, and
conceal his laughter at nonsense. Silly men much honour and esteem him,
because by his fair reasoning with them as with men of understanding, he
puts them into an erroneous opinion of themselves, and makes them
forwarder hereafter to their own discovery. He is