Is one that parts his religion betwixt his conscience and his purse, and comes to church not to serve God but the king.  The face of the law makes him wear the mask of the gospel, which he uses not as a means to save his soul, but charges.  He loves Popery well, but is loth to lose by it; and though he be something scared with the bulls of Rome, yet they are far off, and he is struck with more terror at the apparitor.  Once a month he presents himself at the church, to keep off the church-warden, and brings in his body to save his bail.  He kneels with the congregation, but prays by himself, and asks God forgiveness for coming thither.  If he be forced to stay out a sermon, he pulls his hat over his eyes, and frowns out the hour; and when he comes home, thinks to make amends for this fault by abusing the preacher.  His main policy is to shift off the communion, for which he is never unfurnished of a quarrel, and will be sure to be out of charity at Easter; and indeed he lies not, for he has a quarrel to the sacrament.  He would make a bad martyr and good traveller, for his conscience is so large he could never wander out of it; and in Constantinople would be circumcised with a reservation.  His wife is more zealous and therefore more costly, and he bates her in tires what she stands him in religion.  But we leave him hatching plots against the state, and expecting Spinola.[21]

A SELF-CONCEITED MAN

Is one that knows himself so well, that he does not know himself.  Two excellent well-dones have undone him, and he is guilty of it that first commended him to madness.  He is now become his own book, which he pores on continually, yet like a truant reader skips over the harsh places, and surveys only that which is pleasant.  In the speculation of his own good parts, his eyes, like a drunkard’s, see all double, and his fancy, like an old man’s spectacles, make a great letter in a small print.  He imagines every place where he comes his theatre, and not a look stirring but his spectator; and conceives men’s thoughts to be very idle, that is, [only] busy about him.  His walk is still in the fashion of a march, and like his opinion unaccompanied, with his eyes most fixed upon his own person, or on others with reflection to himself.  If he have done any thing that has passed with applause, he is always re-acting it alone, and conceits the extasy his hearers were in at every period.  His discourse is all positions and definitive decrees, with thus it must be and thus it is, and he will not humble his authority to prove it.  His tenet is always singular and aloof from the vulgar as he can, from which you must not hope to wrest him.  He has an excellent humour for an heretic, and in these days made the first Arminian.  He prefers Ramus before Aristotle, and Paracelsus before Galen,[22] [and whosoever with most paradox is commended.] He much pities the world that has