get, which he can utter too in
fit time and place. He is [like] the vault in[29] Gloster church, that
conveys whispers at a distance, for he takes the sound out of your mouth
at York, and makes it be heard as far as London. He is the young
student's joy and expectation, and the most accepted guest, to whom they
lend a willing hand to discharge him of his burden. His first greeting
is commonly, _Your friends are well; [and to prove it[30]]_ in a piece
of gold delivers their blessing. You would think him a churlish blunt
fellow, but they find in him many tokens of humanity. He is a great
afflicter of the high-ways, and beats them out of measure; which injury
is sometimes revenged by the purse-taker, and then the voyage
miscarries. No man domineers more in his inn, nor calls his host
unreverently with more presumption, and this arrogance proceeds out of
the strength of his horses. He forgets not his load where he takes his
ease, for he is drunk commonly before he goes to bed. He is like the
prodigal child, still packing away and still returning again. But
let him pass.

A YOUNG MAN.

He is now out of nature's protection, though not yet able to guide
himself; but left loose to the world and fortune, from which the
weakness of his childhood preserved him; and now his strength exposes
him. He is, indeed, just of age to be miserable, yet in his own conceit
first begins to be happy; and he is happier in this imagination, and his
misery not felt is less. He sees yet but the outside of the world and
men, and conceives them, according to their appearing, glister, and out
of this ignorance believes them. He pursues all vanities for happiness,
and[31] [_enjoys them best in this fancy._] His reason serves, not to
curb but understand his appetite, and prosecute the motions thereof with
a more eager earnestness. Himself is his own temptation, and needs not
Satan, and the world will come hereafter. He leaves repentance for grey
hairs, and performs it in being covetous. He is mingled with the vices
of the age as the fashion and custom, with which he longs to be
acquainted, and sins to better his understanding. He conceives his youth
as the season of his lust, and the hour wherein he ought to be bad; and
because he would not lose his time, spends it. He distastes religion as
a sad thing, and is six years elder for a thought of heaven. He scorns
and fears, and yet hopes for old age, but dare not imagine it with
wrinkles. He loves and hat