oy. He affects nothing so wholly, that
he must be a miserable man when he loses it; but fore-thinks what will
come hereafter, and spares fortune his thanks and curses. One that loves
his credit, not this word reputation; yet can save both without a duel.
Whose entertainments to greater men are respectful, not complementary; and
to his friends plain, not rude. A good husband, father, master; that is,
without doting, pampering, familiarity. A man well poised in all humours,
in whom nature shewed most geometry, and he has not spoiled the work. A
man of more wisdom than wittiness, and brain than fancy; and abler to any
thing than to make verses.
LV.
A MODEST MAN
Is a far finer man than he knows of, one that shews better to all men than
himself, and so much the better to all men, as less to himself;[78] for no
quality sets a man off like this, and commends him more against his will:
and he can put up any injury sooner than this (as he calls it) your irony.
You shall hear him confute his commenders, and giving reasons how much
they are mistaken, and is angry almost if they do not believe him. Nothing
threatens him so much as great expectation, which he thinks more
prejudicial than your under-opinion, because it is easier to make that
false, than this true. He is one that sneaks from a good action, as one
that had pilfered, and dare not justify it; and is more blushingly
reprehended in this, than others in sin: that counts all publick
declarings of himself, but so many penances before the people; and the
more you applaud him, the more you abash him, and he recovers not his face
a month after. One that is easy to like any thing of another man's, and
thinks all he knows not of him better than that he knows. He excuses that
to you, which another would impute; and if you pardon him, is satisfied.
One that stands in no opinion because it is his own, but suspects it
rather, because it is his own, and is confuted and thanks you. He sees
nothing more willingly than his errors, and it is his error sometimes to
be too soon persuaded. He is content to be auditor, where he only can
speak, and content to go away, and think himself instructed. No man is so
weak that he is ashamed to learn of, and is less ashamed to confess it;
and he finds many times even in the dust, what others overlook and lose.
Every man's presence is a kind of bridle to him, to stop the roving of his
tongue and passions: and even impudent men look for this
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