He esteems no
customs but such as have outlived themselves and are long since out of
use, as the Catholics allow of no saints but such as are dead, and the
fanatics, in opposition, of none but the living.
A PROUD MAN
Is a fool in fermentation, that swells and boils over like a
porridge-pot. He sets out his feathers like an owl, to swell and seem
bigger than he is. He is troubled with a tumour and inflammation of
self-conceit, that renders every part of him stiff and uneasy. He has
given himself sympathetic love-powder, that works upon him to dotage and
has transformed him into his own mistress. He is his own gallant, and
makes most passionate addresses to his own dear perfections. He commits
idolatry to himself, and worships his own image; though there is no soul
living of his Church but himself, yet he believes as the Church
believes, and maintains his faith with the obstinacy of a fanatic. He is
his own favourite, and advances himself not only above his merit, but
all mankind; is both Damon and Pythias to his own dear self, and values
his crony above his soul. He gives place to no man but himself, and that
with very great distance to all others, whom he esteems not worthy to
approach him. He believes whatsoever he has receives a value in being
his, as a horse in a nobleman's stable will bear a greater price than in
a common market. He is so proud that he is as hard to be acquainted with
himself as with others, for he is very apt to forget who he is, and
knows himself only superficially; therefore he treats himself civilly as
a stranger with ceremony and compliment, but admits of no privacy.
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