affections jump[86] even with
your's; he is before-hand with your thoughts, and able to suggest them
unto you. He will commend to you first what he knows you like, and has
always some absurd story or other of your enemy, and then wonders how your
two opinions should jump in that man. He will ask your counsel sometimes
as a man of deep judgment, and has a secret of purpose to disclose to you,
and whatsoever you say, is persuaded. He listens to your words with great
attention, and sometimes will object that you may confute him, and then
protests he never heard so much before. A piece of wit bursts him with an
overflowing laughter, and he remembers it for you to all companies, and
laughs again in the telling. He is one never chides you but for your
vertues, as, _you are too good, too honest, too religious_, when his
chiding may seem but the earnester commendation, and yet would fain chide
you out of them too; for your vice is the thing he has use of, and wherein
you may best use him; and he is never more active than in the worst
diligences. Thus, at last, he possesses you from yourself, and then
expects but his hire to betray you: and it is a happiness not to discover
him; for as long as you are happy, you shall not.

FOOTNOTES:

[86] _Jump_ here signifies to coincide. The old play of _Soliman and
Perseda_, 4to. _without date_, uses it in the same sense:

"Wert thou my friend, thy mind would _jump_ with mine." So in _Pierce
Penilesse his Supplication to the Divele_:--"Not two of them jump in one
tale." p. 29.

LXVII.

A HIGH-SPIRITED MAN

Is one that looks like a proud man, but is not: you may forgive him his
looks for his worth's sake, for they are only too proud to be base. One
whom no rate can buy off from the least piece of his freedom, and make him
digest an unworthy thought an hour. He cannot crouch to a great man to
possess him, nor fall low to the earth to rebound never so high again. He
stands taller on his own bottom, than others on the advantage ground of
fortune, as having solidly that honour, of which title is but the pomp. He
does homage to no man for his great stile's sake, but is strictly just in
the exaction of respect again, and will not bate you a complement. He is
more sensible of a neglect than an undoing, and scorns no man so much as
his surly threatener. A man quickly fired, and quickly laid down with
satisfaction, but remits any injury sooner than words: only to himself he
is irr