You shall
never observe him make any reply in places of public concourse; he
ingenuously acknowledges himself to be more bounden to the happiness of
a retentive memory, than either ability of tongue or pregnancy of
conceit. He carries his table-book still about with him, but dares not
pull it out publicly. Yet no sooner is the table drawn than he turns
notary, by which means he recovers the charge of his ordinary. Paul's is
his walk in winter, Moorfields in summer, where the whole discipline,
designs, projects, and exploits of the States, Netherlands, Poland,
Switzer, Crimchan and all, are within the compass of one quadrangle walk
most judiciously and punctually discovered. But long he must not walk,
lest he make his news-press stand. Thanks to his good invention, he can
collect much out of a very little; no matter though more experienced
judgments disprove him, he is anonymous, and that will secure him. To
make his reports more credible or (which he and his stationer only aims
at) more vendible, in the relation of every occurrence he renders you
the day of the month; and to approve himself a scholar, he annexeth
these Latin parcels, or parcel-gilt sentences, _veteri stylo, novo
stylo_. Palisados, parapets, counter-scarps, forts, fortresses,
rampiers, bulwarks, are his usual dialect. He writes as if he would do
some mischief, yet the charge of his shot is but paper. He will
sometimes start in his sleep, as one affrighted with visions, which I
can impute to no other cause but to the terrible skirmishes which he
discoursed of in the daytime.
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