ng and hardy, and the more cold and cowardly in the rear;
as quaking tarts and quivering custards, and such milk-sop dishes, which
scape many times the fury of the encounter. But now the second course is
gone up and he down in the cellar, where he drinks and sleeps till four
o'clock[67] in the afternoon, and then returns again to his regiment.

A BOLD FORWARD MAN

Is a lusty fellow in a crowd, that is beholden more to his elbow than
his legs, for he does not go, but thrusts well. He is a good shuffler in
the world, wherein he is so oft putting forth, that at length he puts
on. He can do some things, but dare do much more, and is like a
desperate soldier, who will assault any thing where he is sure not to
enter. He is not so well opinioned of himself, as industrious to make
others, and thinks no vice so prejudicial as blushing. He is still
citing for himself, that a candle should not be hid under a bushel; and
for his part he will be sure not to hide his, though his candle be but a
snuff or rush-candle. Those few good parts he has, he is no niggard in
displaying, and is like some needy flaunting goldsmith, nothing in the
inner room, but all on the cupboard. If he be a scholar, he has commonly
stepped into the pulpit before a degree, yet into that too before he
deserved it. He never defers St. Mary's beyond his regency, and his next
sermon is at Paul's cross,[68] [and that printed.] He loves publick
things alive; and for any solemn entertainment he will find a mouth,
find a speech who will. He is greedy of great acquaintance and many, and
thinks it no small advancement to rise to be known. [He is one that has
all the great names at court at his fingers' ends, and their lodgings;
and with a saucy, "my lord," will salute the best of them.] His talk at
the table is like Benjamin's mess, five times to his part, and no
argument shuts him out for a quarreller. Of all disgraces he endures not
to be nonplussed, and had rather fly for sanctuary to nonsense which few
descry, than to nothing, which all. His boldness is beholden to other
men's modesty, which rescues him many times from a baffle; yet his face
is good armour, and he is dashed out of anything sooner than
countenance. Grosser conceits are puzzled in him for a rare man; and
wiser men, though they know him, [yet] take him [in] for their pleasure,
or as they would do a sculler for being next at hand. Thus preferment at
last stumbles on him, because he is still in the way. H