SATIRICAL ESSAYS CHARACTERS AND OTHERS. OR Accurate and quick Descriptions, fitted to the life of their Subjects.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  THEOPHRAS. 
Aspice & he●●s● sort aliquid decoctius audis. Mile vapora●● ector mihi serueat aure: lwen. Plagosas minime Plagtarius.  JOHN STEPHENS. 
LONDON, Printed by Nicholas Okes, and are to be sold by Roger Barnes, at his Shop in Saint Dunstanes Church-yard. 1615.   

TO THE WORTHY AND Worshipful, my honoured Friend, Mr. THOMAS TURNER Esquire, etc.  
SIR,  
YOUR approbation of some parcels, hath entitled you to all: and your alone worthiness hath deserved all. If I entreat your Kindest judgement, that is your Impartial, to survey this; I shall but rather furnish out a brief Epistle, then instruct your knowledge: which is already (I dare say) resolved, that the impartial censure is the best, if soundest: of which you are provided well to censure this. And if I tell you that instructions likewise may be here admitted; though such as may confirm and not provoke your detestation of baseness; imagine that I mean no otherwise: Nay, if I tell you further, that some things here included may modestly endure the name of knowledge; you shall but take the promise of my own judgement to encourage yours in the perusal, by way of hazarding my whole credit: and so absolve me from the thought of Arrogance. I wrong your patience and worth, by preparation of your way to read and judge. You are sufficient for me: and able to conceive, that all becomes your own, as I would be, being your  
Truly Affectionate I.S.   

To the People.  
MY Epistles have no fortune to purify men's apprehension, much less to new create, or to increase their judgements: Be therefore suddenly persuaded to reclaim thy censure having viewed this, or be perpetually haunted with thy double mischief, Impudence and dullness. Take this along, and I have done speedily. Things be here censured so tractable, as if they and thou disclaim acquaintance, thou must immediately be taken for one affected to tyrannical or clownish ignorance: Be then thy own Reader; thou needst not my comment: nor do I request thy favourable constraction. Yet, if thou canst believe that perfect sense and meanings be not only tied to public favourites, thou needst not be ashamed to justify both me and mine: If (otherwise) thou canst not relish; blame thyself only, at thy own peril.   

The Contents.  

THree Essays of Cowardliness.  
Essay 4. Of High-birth.  
Essay 5. Of Disinheritance.  
Essay 6. Of Poetry.  
Essay 7. Of Discontents.   

Two Books of Characters.  


THE FIRST BOOK.  
Charact. 1. An impudent Censurer.  
Charact. 2. A complete man..  
Charact. 3. A good Husband,  
Charact. 4. A contented man..  
Charact. 5. A good Emperor.  
Charact. 6. A worthy Poet.  
Charact. 7. An honest Lawyer.  
Charact. 8. A Detractor.  
Charact. 9 An Humorist.  
Charact. 10. A Coxcomb.  
Charact. 11. A rank observer.  
Charact. 12. A Parish-Polititian.  
Charact. 13. A Spendthrift.  
Charact. 14. A Ubiquitary.  
Charact. 15. A Gamester.  
Charact. 16. A Novice.  
Charact. 17. An Epicure.  
Charact. 18. A Churl.  
Charact. 19 An Atheist.  
Charact. 20. A Lyar.  
Charact. 21. A Drunkard.  
Charact. 22. A Begging Scholar.    


THE SECOND BOOK.  
Charact. 1. A jailor.  
Charact. 2. An informer.  
Charact. 3. A base Mercenary Poet.  
Charact. 4. A common Player.  
Charact. 5. A Warrener.  
Charact. 6. A Huntsman.  
Charact. 7. A Falconer.  
Charact. 8. A Farmer.  
Charact. 9 An Hostess.  
Charact. 10. A Tapster.  
Charact. 11. A Lawyer's Clerk.  
Charact. 12. A mere Attorney.  
Charact. 13. A crafty Scrivener.  
Charact. 14. A welsh Client.  
Charact. 15. A Country Bridegroom.  
Charact. 16. A Country Bride.  
Charact. 17. My Mistress.  
Charact. 18. A Gossip.  
Charact. 19 An old woman.  
Charact. 20. A Witch.  
Charact. 21. A Pander.      

A Caution.  

BE once advisd, and thou shalt never take  
A Mercenary, though a famous man,  
To prove the labours, which thy Muses make;  
Each line although he doth directly scan.   

Directly? no; he cannot so survey,  
Except with resolution to persist:  
But, if a while you do forbear to pay,  
His resolutions he doth all untwist:   

And (like a crafty Lawyer) though he frame  
A formal judgement to recover cost,  
Yet brings a writ of error in the same:  
So (by himself) his judgements worth is lost.   

Doth he not then his credit much deface?  
No: that you would believe, he doth beseech  
(If so his judgement takes no common place)  
His meaning held no concord with his speech.   

Doth he recover credit then, or save  
Opinion kept perhaps above desert?  
Impossible: for like a cheating Knave,  
Protested faith to shame he doth convert.   

Friends oft be sparing: Poets of the Town,  
Value their judgement, high above the rate:  
Both may devise to bring the censure down,  
Yet both can never change a volumes fate.   

Then rather let this work commended be  
By those (unknown) who know capacity:  
So shall each sentence that they do rehearse,  
Prefix a just and laudatory verse.    

A Friends Invitation: no Flatterers Encomion.  
WHen many are invited to a Feast,  
Though the inviter doth not know his guest  
And therefore cannot well provide in haste,  
One dish so curious, as may please each taste:  
Yet if this Host hath such a careful mind,  
As that he will, for each man's stomach, find  
A seu●rall meat; and so provide with care,  
Good hous-roome, hearty welcome, & good fare:  
Shall we condemn his liberal act and love,  
If thankless invitants the same disprove?  
Some (peradventure) doth one dish there see,  
Which with his nature doth not well agree:  
Some other may perchance dislike the feast,  
Because it is not all what he likes best.  
And so with divers censures they do take  
Due praise from him who did the banquet make:  
Which may discourage him that doth intend  
Such careful cost another time to spend.  
Yet (worthy Author) let not this dismay  
Thee, to go forward in that virtuous way  
Thou hast propounded; nor let that be lost  
Which is so rare. Thou art a noble Host,  
And 'cause thou knowest not the minds of those  
That shall receive thy feast, thou dost dispose  
Of things so fitly, that all here may find  
divers provisions for each reader's mind.  
What if perchance some surfeit at thy feast,  
Because they cannot easily digest  
Some vicious quality, which reigns so rife  
In vicious minds (made known by their lewd  
So rife; as you the danger have expressed, (life)  
That knowing it, they might the vice detest?  
Pity their weakness then, seeing thou dost tell  
Nothing to poison humour, but expel.  
What if some others will thy feast abuse,  
Because it is of several kinds? refuse  
The founder's dignity, because ti● known  
men's tastes and palates only be their own?  
Thou mad'st it not for only one man's sake,  
But all the worlds, if all of it partake.  
Take resolution therefore to thy mind;  
Add wings unto thy fainting courage; bind  
All thy due strength together; to provide  
So rare a Banquet; which may long abide  
To all men's profit, and the founder's praise.  
He therefore doth invite the guests that says  
This is a Noble Feast; and wisheth this,  
That he, which of this feast doth judge amiss  
May (if he wants what is in this combined)  
Seek to achieve the same, but never find,  
ANTHO. CROFTES.   

SATIRICAL ESSAYS, CHARACTERS AND OTHERS.  

Three Satirical Essays of Cowardliness.  

ESSAY. I.  
Fear to resist good virtues common foe,  
And sear to lose some lucre, which doth grow  
By a continued practice; makes our fate  
Banish (with single combats) all the hate,  
Which broad abuses challenge of our spleen.  
For who in virtues troup was ever seen,  
That did courageously with mischiefs fight  
Without the public name of hypocrite?  
Vainglorious, Malapert, Precise, Devout,  
Be terms which threaten those that go about  
To stand in opposition of our times  
With true defiance, or Satyrickeri●es.  
Cowards they be, branded among the worst,  
Who (through contempt of Atheism) never durst  
Crowd near a great-mans' elbow, to suggest  
Smooth tales with gloss, or Envy well addressed.  
These be the noted cowards of our age;  
Who be not able to instruct the Stage  
With matter of new shameless impudence:  
Who cannot almost laugh at innocence;  
And purchase high preferment by the ways,  
Which had been horrible in Nero's days.  
They are the shameful cowards, who contemn  
Vices of State, or cannot ●l●tter them;  
Who can refuse advantage; or deny  
Villainous courses, if they can esp●e  
Some little purchase to enrich their ch●st,  
Though they become uncomfortably blest.  
We still account those Cowards, who forbear  
(Being possessed with a Religious fear)  
To slip occasion, when they might erect  
Horns on a Tradesman's noddle, or neglect  
The violation of a Virgin's bed  
With promise to require her Maidenhead.  
Basely low-minded we esteem that man,  
Who cannot swagger well, or (if he can)  
Who doth not with implacable desire,  
Follow revenge with a consuming fire.  
Extortious Rascals, when they are alone,  
Bethink how closely they have picked each bone;  
Nay with a frolic humour they will brag,  
How blank they left their empty Client's bag.  
Which dealings if they did not give delight;  
Or not refresh their meetings; in despite  
They would accounted be both weak, unwise,  
And like a timorous coward too precise.  
Your handsome-bodied youth (whose comely face  
May challenge all the store of Nature's grace)  
If, when a lustful Lady doth invite,  
By some lascivious tricke● his dear delight,  
If then he doth abhor such wanton joy;  
Whose is not almost ready to destroy,  
Civility with curses, when he hears  
The tale recited? blaming much his years,  
Or modest weakness, and with cheeks ful-blown  
Each man will wish the case had been his own.  
Grave holy men, whose habit will imply  
Nothing but honest zeal, or sanctity,  
Nay so uprighteous will their actions seem,  
As you their thoughts Religion will esteem.  
Yet these all-sacred men, who daily give  
Such vows, would think themselves unfit to live,  
If they were Artless in the flattering vice,  
Even as it were a daily sacrifice:  
Children deceive their parents with expense:  
Charity lays aside her conscience,  
And looks upon the frail commodity  
Of monstrous bargains with a covetous eye:  
And now the name of Generosity,  
Of noble carriage, or brave dignity;  
Keep such a common skirmish in our blood;  
As we direct the measure of Things good,  
By that, which reputation of Estate,  
Glory of rumour, or the present rate  
Of Saving Policy doth best admit.  
We do employ materials of wit,  
Knowledge, occasion, labour, dignity,  
Among our spirits of Audacity,  
Nor in our gainful projects do we care  
For what is pious, but for what we dare:  
Good humble men, who have sincerely laid  
Salvation for their hope, we call Afraid.  
But if you will vouchsafe a patient ear,  
You shall perceive, men impious have most fear.   

ESSAY. II.  
MAny aspiring fellows you may see,  
Who, after they and fortune do agree,  
Come (by brief windings) to be men elect;  
Through private means, heaven knows how indirect.  
To flourish quickly and advance their head,  
As if they took possessions from the dead:  
When all the Heralds never could devise,  
From whence the father's kindred might arise.  
Though many call them Nephew, Brother's son  
(Because a thrifty garment they have spun)  
Who (else) with public shame had been disgraced,  
And all the titles of their love defaced:  
But now they flourish, and with Worship swell,  
Whose poor beginnings every Groom can tell.  
As if a newfound Whittington's rare Cat  
Came to extol their birthrights above that  
Which nature once intended: These be men  
Who think not of a Hundred yielding Ten:  
They turn base copper into perfect gold:  
Counterfeit cozening wa●es bewis●ly sold.  
Men be persuaded well of prosperous fate,  
Giving much credit to a crafty pa●e,  
But if these cowards durst discover all,  
Both how they did their high estates install,  
How they began to make a league with hell,  
Or how they did in damned plots excel,  
Their very lives alone, if they were dead,  
Would make an other work for Holinshed.  
Alas they dare not; these be cowards right,  
For whose abortive d●eas the blackest night  
Is never black enough, nor can conceal  
Their shame, which lewd posterities reveal.  
Fine handsome outsides who so highly stand  
On the reputed courage of their hand:  
Who keep their pages with such spacious guard  
(Scorning to play without a coated-card)  
Who keep a large Retinue, or erect  
Buildings; in which they never can expect  
To dwell, with credit of their famished flock;  
Or to maintain the use of one good lock.  
These notwithstanding to augment their gloss,  
And turn some brave expenses into dross,  
Will be the servile debtors to a slave,  
(Who hath no remedy, but to deprave  
Their fortunes with invective impudence,  
Or make petitions to defray expense)  
And yet these mighty Upstarts cannot dare,  
To pay a single cross: Except they spare  
Their pomp; which gives a lustre in the Court,  
And in the City makes abundant sport.  
Spendthrifts, & Gallants likewise (who have lands  
Which bear all Saffron for their yellow bands)  
Those which have only complement, and whoop  
In Taverns; may attend the former troup.  
Those that dare challenge any man of arms,  
And seem to bear● about them valtant charms;  
Belching uncivil Envy, in the face  
Of him that meekly contradicts their grace;  
As if they carried vengeance in their jaws,  
Or executions of the Statute-law●s.  
Those men if strictly challenged, quake with fear,  
Contriving basely how they may forbear:  
And (leaving then a while their pompous pride)  
They best bethink, how they may closely hide  
Their contumacious heads with privilege:  
For when the flatcap tradesman doth all age  
Forfeit of payments (and because at length  
His wife, & so the world, doth know his strength)  
When he procures a Champion to demand  
The noble answer of his debtor's hand:  
And dares my valiant Swaggerer to meet,  
His lawful challenge in the open street;  
He, rather than he will provoke the strife,  
Sues by petition to my plaintiffs wise:  
Who, if she doth not very much forget,  
Takes down the quarrel, and so pa●es the debt.  
Another sort of Cowards you may see,  
(Transcending these in a more base degree)  
Who to preserve advancement, or uphold  
Their Families, (without expense of gold)  
Will, in promiscuous manner, congregate  
Amongst good men, who blockish Papism hate;  
Nay, they will be attentive in the Church,  
(All to avoid the law, and penal lurch)  
They will con-nive at holy arguments,  
And often bear a sway in Parliaments:  
They will agree to constituted laws,  
Which almost ruin to their kingdom draws,  
(All notwithstanding) they directly dare  
Hope to be saved, as other Papists are;  
Expecting on some opportunity,  
When they may make a traitorous unity:  
For all the truth which can excuse their fate,  
Is, that they finely can equivocate:  
A Coward's doctrine, full of shameless fear,  
Infuses joy to their misguided ear,  
And yet no equal justice them controls,  
Because they have a Curtain to their souls;  
Corrupted Officers, the common curse  
Of public Law, who stuff their gaping purse  
With wrongful fees, and grow extremely fat  
By their delicious tricks, or lying squat  
Up to the cares in pleasant Alchemy,  
If these men durst bewray their infamy,  
And bring their holiest actions into light,  
The day would run to a prodigious night.  
N●w fees created are, and then the match  
M●st something take to frame a brief dispatch:  
Informer's be prevented by a feat,  
Which qualifies indeed their boisterous heat,  
Although unjustly: clerk and other knaves  
(Who with their generous ruffs the court outbraves)  
Will take a pension, or a quarter fee,  
To make their friend from information free;  
And (to prevent the mischief) will declare  
How other bills already do not spare  
To certify the Court a day before  
Of that, for which the plaintiff doth implore:  
So false and feigned revolutions crack  
The crafty meanings that precaution lack:  
Yet still they gape, and say they cannot save  
The many pounds which th●y so freely gave  
To purchase ten times more for they intent  
Only on private meanings to depend.  
Before I speak, let no good Law●e● bl●me  
My love to him, though I bad vices name.  
Another sort of Law-professors come  
Within this Catalogue to crave a room:  
They who depend upon a judges look  
More than the points of Littleton, or Brook,  
They who procure a great man's happy smile,  
By Coaches, Colts, and other courses vile:  
Who keep one special Court, and blindsold wise  
Tread (Mill-horse like) the circuit of Assize:  
They who be fitter to maintain the sport,  
Of Christmas revels at an Inn of Court:  
Fitter to feed delicious Lady's ears,  
Or flattringly remove their patron's fears:  
Fitter to follow the forgotten trades,  
Or make a reading of the knave of Spades:  
To make a libel, or neat ruffs allow;  
And sometimes very fit to drive the Blow.  
Fitter then to exceed the true degrees  
Of merits, and convert mere voice to fees.  
These men (it makes me laugh) they still contend  
To choose a long-lived patron for their friend;  
But if his destined length becomes too short  
To make the time of long vacations sport,  
Then all my favourites be vanished far,  
And almost tremble to approach the bar.  
Then they perceive, Life (upon which they gnaw)  
Is more uncertain than their common law:  
They travail home again by weeping cross,  
And bring the law much credit with their loss.  
But if they dare, untouched, remain still free,  
Another Patron dares corrupted be:  
Else like egregious Cowards, they withdraw,  
Hiding themselves, and the abuse of Law.  
I see a Lawyer, who hath spent his time  
At Inns of Court in some excessive crime;  
But being once advanced to view the bar,  
He brings all bird-lime, and polluting tar,  
With which he so defiles the Laws pure Sense,  
That each man will account it impudence.  
If a good simple Client entertains  
This Mercenary Varlet, and explains,  
How he hath purchased a convenient field,  
Lordship, or Manor, which may easily yield  
A large revenue, that affords full cost,  
Whereby he saves himself, and nothing's lost:  
The greedy Lawyer doth begin to pray  
He will reprieve his answer till a day;  
Intending he perceives points difficult,  
Through which the crafty seller may insult.  
Meantime he visits some old broking knave,  
And (with a sight of Angels) ties the slave,  
Through nice propounded Articles to swim,  
And get his Client's bargain even for him.  
Then will he basely flatter, and pretend  
The seller was my worshipful dear friend,  
Who recollecting how commodious  
The bargain was for me (so covetous)  
Did kindly offer me the pennyworth  
In which (before) I wanted putting forth.  
Ungracious were it to impute disease  
To any men of knowledge, or to these,  
With a pernicious meaning to contemn  
The most respectful honest Law, or them:  
When therefore I the name of Lawyer use,  
Or (any way) the title do accuse,  
Imagine, I, as do the vulgar clowns,  
Call those men Lawyers, who have Lawyers gowns:  
Reserving to myself a purer sense,  
Which saith a Lawyer is all innocence;  
A Lawyer truly taken; which implies  
One who doth Art and Reason exercise,  
Both which, and Equity do him sustain;  
Who truly doth the name of Lawyer gain.  
That waking sighted Runaway, the Hare,  
(Which is preserved by a continual fear)  
Cannot (by this) protect her innocence,  
So much as Officers their lewd pretence:  
The Fox an ancient Hieroglyphic was,  
In Friar's robes to show the common pass  
Of smooth hypocrisy, and Church-mens craft;  
But now a formal gown may serve to waft  
This badge among our prowling Officers,  
Which Name and Habit righteously infers  
As much compacted villainy, as meets  
Among the Stewards of rich Country Leetes:  
Both Cousin with as great conformity,  
As if they held some new fraternity:  
Both be so practised in good virtues scorn,  
As if Attorneys had directly sworn  
To match the Officer, and poll the fleece,  
As if they both consisted of one piece.  
They both insinuate their sweeting pains,  
Their common payment: each (alike) constrains  
The hungerbitten Client to disburse,  
Till they have left his hopes even with his purse.  
Yet will you dare to say those men exact?  
No; that were brainless: they so well compact  
Their politic inventions, that the fault  
Of ask more than due, creeps to the vault  
Of Clerks dull ignorance to purchase leave,  
When their discovered projects d● deceive  
A Substitute in Courts may rather take  
All wrested fees, that gloss may thereby make  
The Steward seem less culpable in vice,  
When Substitutes are taught by his advice:  
And if some one their cozenage doth betray,  
The Substitute can easily slink away.  
My bawdy Proctor likewise, who presumes  
To purge men's purses▪ for venereal Rheums;  
Who threatens penance in agh●stly sh●ete,  
If Clie●ts (though they s●rip from head to feet)  
Be sla●k● in payment of extortious coin:  
This man who studies first how to purloin,  
Before he looks upon the civil Law;  
This man, who hath a prompt and ready paw,  
Who loves no Inns of Court, shutting his cracks  
And all his rage, under a nose of wax;  
Who, when a fornicator looks awry,  
That he the least advantage may espy,  
He will officiously attend the Court,  
Because he ●●●els out the ensuing sport,  
And when a grievous fi●e afflicts the purse  
Of ●●●shly sinners, to escape the curse,  
He and the thrifty judge can closely share  
The foul● taxation, which with pious c●re  
Is well intended to correct the sin,  
Establish bridges which decay within,  
Relic sick persons, or amend highways,  
Or some religious Chapel, which decays.  
But they have other uses to respect,  
To buy their ciu●ll garments, or affect  
The wanton lust of some egregious whore,  
To win new credit, to deceive the poor;  
And so deceive the unsuspectfull time,  
For (else) he durst not so insatiate clime  
Into the fiery region; neither dares  
His habit seem acquainted with these cares.  
Now must I summon Parish-hypocrites,  
Who seem attentive to celestial rites,  
Who think the Art of him that well doth live,  
Is all performed, if he example give,  
Which may become the parish: if he pray  
Aloud in Chambers, or devoutly pay  
The tribute of true dealing unto all  
Who (can to their assistance) justice call.  
If in Assemblies he can show good works,  
And call offenders, Infidels or Turks:  
He thinks he hath discharged the final part  
Of a religious or honest heart:  
Though he doth closely keep a virtuous punk,  
Or though (on cautious tharms) he● can be drunk:  
Though in another County, and the name  
Of other Agents he can schedules frame;  
And thinks himself to be a man well blest,  
Though he receives the Sinful Interest:  
For this eye-seruing-age is quickly gone  
To all deceit if we lack lookers on.  
These be most valiant Cowards, men that dare  
Be boldly impious, and y●t basely fear,  
Lest common rumour should observe or think  
They be not still awake, though still they wink.  
Some false Physicians lie within the reach  
Of these, who true sincerity impeach,  
Their glasses, glisters, oils, ingredients  
(Which hope of lucre oftentimes invents)  
Do carry all (as if a coward's soul  
Kept in their bosoms) to the dead man's roll;  
Hiding their fearful practice in the graves:  
Lean death, their operation still outbraves.  
Sometimes their crabbed Envy doth invent,  
Sometimes they kill with new experiment:  
For still they er●e by custom, or by chance,  
Ei●her by malice, or by ignorance:  
And (having spent prescriptions to each dram)  
He thinks alas sure I protected am,  
If now I see our physic does no good,  
Or seeing I have sucked his purse and blood,  
If I can tell his friends there is no hope,  
Or that he must expect deaths fatal scope:  
Then shall I be discharged with credit's fee,  
And to condemn more lives, remain still free.  
They shift their compass to avoid our scorn,  
Hiding their actions from the fair-faced morn.  
Now my censorious Critics who disgrace  
Each work they know not, with a scurvy face,  
Who banish Authors to Barbarian lands,  
And sling true solid matter from their hands,  
With a disdainful Motto of Nonsense:  
Although themselves (excepting impudence)  
Have nothing to excuse their vanity:  
Latinle●se Lawless Rogues, they often be,  
Who having past their verdict, will recant:  
For their maintaining faculty is scant.  
Or if these Apish Cowards dare defend,  
The vice of judgement, brings them to their end.  
And yet some Writers do deserve the name  
Of Cowards likewise: they be grown so tame  
With being often handled, often praised,  
As they forget their motion, being raised  
Above the highest spheres: they think it much,  
More than indeed enough, to have been such  
As they were once accounted: though they sleep,  
Follow their ease, and sluggish silence keep:  
Nay though they wake, & (which doth po●son them)  
F●llow the errors which they did condemn.  
Some worthless Poets also, have the vice  
To write their labours as they cast at di●e:  
If (by adventure) some strange happy chance,  
Smiles on their borrowed works of ignorance,  
They can bewray their thievish names, and give  
Notice to all, how they eterni●'d live.  
But if (presuming on their sickly strength)  
They write, and do betray their selves at length:  
Then, oh they came into the public press  
Against their wills; they dare not then contesse  
Who wrongs the world with such base Poetry:  
Nay, their own eldest sons they will deny.  
All hide their vices. Printers also hide  
Errors escaped, w●ich makes wise men deride  
Excellent wits, deserving worthy praise,  
When (through distinctions jest) the truth decay:  
But among all base writers of the time,  
I cannot reckon up more desperate rhyme,  
(Which travails with a fear so damnable)  
As Libell-lashing measures: they excel  
Only in this; that these be counted best,  
Which the soole-Author dares acknowledge least.  
These are contemptible enough, and yet  
Their lines mask under a fictitious wit,  
When wit (as hitherto) was never seen  
Truly engendered by a trivial spleen.  
Nor can they thus reform what is impure,  
Seing men so touched, conceive themselves past cure.  
Well do these cowards thrive, when having blown  
Shame to the people's Ears, they lose their own.  
Briefly, it were a thing preposterous,  
If rich men, who are nicely covetous,  
Should not be trembling cowards; when they think  
Upon the joyful pains of death, they stink.  
Nothing provokes me sooner to confess  
That Atheism is their chiefest happiness,  
Then to consider how the very best  
Struggle with death, declining to their rest:  
One plucks away the hairs which should reveal  
His righteous thoughts: another doth conceal  
The furrowed wrinkles of his tawny skin:  
Another scours his stumps, or doth begin  
To break the glass with foolish ecstasy,  
At the reflex of Chap-fallen gravity.  
Can these, with safety of a quiet mind  
Puff up themselves with an ambitious wind  
Of Riches, Rumour, Lucre, and Expense,  
Whiles Kings and good men have no difference?  
They have Abundance, I have some alone,  
They feed a hundred bellies, I feed one.  
Both vanish to oblivions cave, unless  
Our very thoughts a living soul express:  
Which being once admitted, no souls can  
Keep their worst secrets from the face of man..   

ESSAY. III.  
NO more: no more: now saith my honest friend,  
Be politic; or study to commend  
The time, and timelings, lest you do bestow  
More copious terms than licence dare allow.  
Content thyself (Cordatus) I will blame  
No reverend Churchman, neither will I name  
One lewd professor, who pollutes the grace  
Of such a formal and respected place:  
I will not name their livings, nor their lives,  
Much ●esse their bondage to their handsome wives:  
As if they durst not show the times disease,  
Because indeed they dare not them displease.  
I will not wrong their holiness: and why?  
In holiness true zeal you may descry.  
Nor will I tax Church-vices, lest I wrong  
The labour which to writing doth belong.  
For when I have again repeated all  
Their vices public, and sins personal:  
I shall but reckon the antiquities,  
Of Gloss, of Ignorance, and Simonies:  
And so repeat things mentioned long before,  
Nay things prefixed upon each Playhouse door.  
Let them (alas) continue, or increase,  
O let them long enjoy a qui●t peace;  
For they already know the mischiefs well,  
They almost scorn such inwards to expel.  
And why? they fear taxation: ò strange fate!  
They who contemn reproofs, are desperate.  
We cannot hope such persons will amend,  
Who may (without control) their vice extend.  
Enough, enough, I have bethought so much  
Concerning cowards, that myself am such:  
I dare not speak my meaning under pain  
Of being crossed, of being curbed again.  
Why crossed? why curbed? go ask authority  
Why it protects peculiar vanity?  
And it perhaps will answer in de●ence;  
C●owes to themselves beperfect Innocence.  
Or (which is more familiar) Envy loves  
That humour best, which bitterly reproves  
All states, all faculties besides her own:  
She favours that, and fears it should be known,  
Though it be noted; or with public shame,  
Hath purchased (〈◊〉 you write) an odious name.  
Men think their fashions and their faces best  
If (in a flattered humour) they be blest,  
To hear men discommend both such and such,  
Not naming theirs; although they be so much  
Apparent filthy, as no vulgar eye  
Would make a question of deformity:  
And so superior vices do propound  
A freedom to their scope, as being sound  
In self-conceit, if they can save their skin  
From being Printed with a public s●nne;  
Though (setting books aside) they do profess,  
Enough to poison all their names no l●sse.  
See how I breath into the spacious Air,  
A Theme as spacious: Can my V●rse repair  
The fruitless errors of men obstinate;  
Who cannot freely their own vices hate?  
Who rather gainful vices do condemn,  
Because they cannot purchase gains by them?  
For in their own offences they reserve  
Such cautions as may closely them preserve.  
Well, sir, admit men labour to be wise,  
And for themselves do secrets exercise,  
Who shall dare contradict such worthy pains  
Which fosters credit, and ill terms restrains?  
Avaunt base Hypocrite, go henceforth set  
Upon thy pillow, thy close cabinet,  
And sleep with all the papers in thy hand,  
Which thy most secret counsels may command;  
Or I with Spaniard's better shall agree;  
Or I shall trust a Lapwing more than thee.  
Good men dare justify, even touching all  
The essence of their thoughts original:  
Touching themselves, their meanings they may save,  
Lest they their good success of means deprave.  
But well, suppose men so directly halt  
As they do fear to patronize the fault,  
Shall they not seek unpunished to remain,  
If actions passed cannot be called again?  
We daily do transgress; and some perhaps  
Deserve the plagues of lashing afterclaps:  
But then, alas! what satisfaction can,  
Written reproofs be for a vicious man?  
You make professions undergo contempt,  
And make the least offence so far exempt  
From civil virtue, and some new conceits,  
That you enforce good fellowship to straits.  
So: Have you done (dear Motley?) yes almost;  
But stay a little, and behold uncrost,  
The reason, why we do so closely deal,  
And why we cover vice: I can reveal,  
To frustrate your inventions which produce  
Nothing halfe-worthy of a well-born Muse,  
But trivial vanities, and deep expense,  
To tell man's weakness by experience:  
You might with more applause bestow more pains  
To grace the Mayor's Triumphs, and the chains  
Which do attend his Lordship to the Hall:  
You might expound things termed mystical:  
Or might in better phrase compose a song,  
To show his Highness stayed at Cambridge long;  
And not in terms, as hasty as the truth,  
Discover harebrain fallacies of youth:  
You might, you might, Severus, and detest  
To scourge close dealers who be safely blest:  
For I can well resolve you are the cause,  
Why men reserve (in acts) a private clause:  
You, and your nice observance do restrain  
Men, and their actions both, from being plain:  
And yet you call those Cowards, who beware  
As if they were possessed with childish fear.  
Survey thyself, quick-sighted formalist,  
And then discover that abusive mist,  
With which men shelter any private sin:  
Charity always doth at home begin.  
Now have you ended? then, I answer all  
By scorning to excuse or hide my fall  
As thou dost urge: if I transgress my square,  
I of Relapse, not of Reproof beware:  
And I believe thou likewise wilt amend,  
If so thou dost not labour to offend:  
For that ind●ed betrays men's dealing nought,  
When they do study rather to be taught,  
In subtle mischief of a newer mint,  
Then to abjure deceits of ancient print:  
For they hate cozenage, once entitled Old,  
Because the Title shows it often told,  
And so affords no lucre; not because  
It favours Atheism and corruption draws.  
Why do I tax, why do I trouble men,  
Or why with noted crimes defile my pen?  
The most notorious cowards will betray  
Themselves, and follies, though I turn away.  
Yes (which is worth my laughter) they accuse  
Their closest fears, even while they do refuse  
To let you understand their subtle drifts,  
They do discover such avoiding shifts,  
That you may thence collect some fearful trick,  
They study to appear so politic.  
As, Felons brought before a justice, each  
Hopes to be saved, if others he impeach:  
And as some Indians dealt, being al-amazed  
To hear the Spanish guns and forces blazed;  
They bought their safety through a fine deceit:  
For knowing gold to be the Spanish bait,  
They would protest, that fifty leagues beyond  
Was common plenty of that yellow sand;  
Meaning to turn the fools another way.  
And so deal vicious persons: they betray  
Another's folly, to preserve their own:  
Observe, and you shall gather things well known.  
Go tell a Church man he hath lost his voice,  
Or ask him why he doth in strife rejoice:  
And he will answer; Lawyers do not speak  
So much to purpose, as the Pulpits creak,  
Although they do receive fees doubled twice;  
Which far exceed my single Benefice.  
Go tell a Lawyer he relies on chance,  
Because he doth affect dull ignorance:  
And he the worst objection soon averts  
By telling how The times neglect deserts.  
Go tell a Magistrate of morning bribes,  
And he, to shallow means, the same ascribes:  
But then demand of Honour why she fails,  
In giving that which every way avails  
To nourish her beloved sons? And she  
Will answer, They profuse, insatiate be.  
Ask shifting Russians why they do forget,  
To hasten payment and discharge their debt,  
Or why they do sufficient men dislike?  
And they will answer, Great-ones do the like.  
Go tell a Gamester he hath cheated long,  
Or unto many offered shameful wrong,  
And he will answer, that himself before  
Was often cheated twenty times and more.  
Go ask a Drunkard why he follows wine,  
Abuses God, or gives a Heathen sign;  
And he will quickly answer thy demand,  
The Parson was so drunk he could not stand.  
Go tell a Hotspur he hath killed a man,  
Go ask him how he doth the terror scan:  
And he will answer; a physician's free  
To murder twenty millions; why not he?  
Go tell a fawning wretch he doth rely  
Upon the slavish vice of flattery:  
And he will answer, That the best are glad  
To follow such endeavours, or as bad.  
Go tell a whore she doth her sex pollute,  
By being such a common prostitute:  
And she will answer in defence of fame,  
Citizens wives, and Ladies do the same.  
Go tell a tradesman he deceives the day,  
Refusing light, deluding every way:  
And he will answer to avoid thy curse,  
Go further on, you will be cheated worse.  
Thus cowards all (not daring to defend  
The divers follies which they dare intend)  
Confess themselves, and others do elect  
Vices, which none but Devils dare protect.  
When I pronounce a Coward, it implies,  
Malice and spite be Cowards qualities:  
They are inseparate, and why? because  
A vicious Coward so exactly knows  
Himself unable, that he doth decree  
To have consorts as impotent as h●e;  
Because he may avoid the mighty shock  
Of men's contempt, ranked with a greater flock;  
Whereas perhaps if he were lest alone,  
His baseness only would be looked upon.  
But hark you sir (saith one) you have forgot  
To brand our female; with a coward's lot.  
They be a proper subject: do not spare  
Them and their covert dealing to declare:  
They be attired with inventive doubts,  
And have as many fears as they have thoughts:  
They labour daily, yet they do suspect,  
They cannot half a handsome face erect:  
They paint, they pow●er, they with toys exced,  
Alas! they dare not show themselves indeed.  
Night they do honour: then they do obtain  
That which perhaps the day calls back again:  
They do entice their Husbands to believe  
Any thing (then) and any thing to give:  
They do entreat, when Husbands scarce reply  
But with a purpose nothing to deny:  
They not without advantage do contend;  
Nor any coward's odds do discommend.  
Well, 〈◊〉: admit they do abound with fear,  
Females for nothing else created were.  
They need not of their weakness be ashamed;  
But Men should blush to hear the folly named.  
You do discover men's impediments,  
And tell us what the crafty age invents.  
As if authority forgot his whip:  
You may be silent, and surcease to nip.  
Let sage Authority proceed by course  
Of Law, to punish these without remorse.  
Then you must bid Authority respect  
Things not accounted evil; or neglect  
To punish friendless fee-lesse infamies,  
And tax brave mischief with severer eyes.  
Nay that will never be; for tell the base,  
And poor offendor (who feels no disgrace)  
He hath offended; and he dares reply,  
He took his pattern from Authority.  
So shifting be the simple Idiots,  
So shifting base be higher Patriots:  
And must be ever till they do reveal  
Fear to commit, not study to conceal.    

Of High Birth. ESSAY. FOUR  
THINGS curiously made, differ as much from things begotten, as earth from living men, and artificial bodies from man's issue. Children therefore may challenge from their parents more prerogative, than workmanship or man's Invention; for it participates with us in being only, but they in being ours: for things begotten be originally our own, but things created be ours at the second hand continually: else man were two ways excellent, and able to create, as well as to beget, without pattern or example, whereas truly in matters of Science and manual labour, man, without the help of man, doth nothing. So ignorant he is, and chiefly bound unto imitation, as he never did, nor will, produce that, which depends not on some precedent: only our Issue is our own absolute; for man, secluded from the company of men, is by the help of Nature fit (of himself) for infinite generation, though nothing else: Which argues the full necessity of being sociable, and mightily condemns those currish people, who think it all-sufficient, if they can once assume the pride, to say, they are not any way indebted; or that they be their own Supporters: And think it the safest friendship to forget Humanity, neglect Acquaintance, make love an outward Ceremony, nay scarce so much: and never be offended with a curse so much, as when they must have man's assistance to restore them.  
These are unmindful why man doth multiply, Why lawful Marriage was invented: Or why GOD, thinking it not enough to work a Union with HUMANITY by the bond of NATURE, did also extend affinity to those of an other stock; that INCEST might be unacted; and by the consequent, that MAN should not engross only the love of his own FAMILY. Man therefore thus enabled to produce; it follows by implication that amongst posterity some one must have precedence; in which, sons (by consent) have that Immunity of Eldest: And He, according to usual speech, is called the Heir Apparent: which is a name so largely taken, as (with it) we imply any one able to inherit, though not the eldest. But properly it extends to the First Begotten, who (in being first) supplies the office of a Substitute to discharge that which encumbers the parent; the office of a valiant warrior likewise, who covets by being first, to take the first charge, give the first assault, and (above all) to be according to his name, truly forward in the high Achievements of honour: so forward, as for any of his Rank to be before, should be thought a miserable baseness. It is an observed point of Nature (among the Ancients) that Elephants, 
Pliny. A●l●anus. Philo●tr●.  when they travail by Troops, knowing by a peculiar instinct that their adversaries (for the most part) encounter them in the Rearward, they marshal themselves that the eldest may be first ready to sustain the violence; which gives a memorable precept to man's issue, that he (if eldest) ought rather to protect, then cavil with his inferior relatives; that they (because youngest) ought rather to submit, where his good counsel may assist, then be malignant or maintain Faction.  
This Theatre of man's life, admits degrees of height, in which the eldest is above the others; and therefore as the Sentinel, or Scout (in Armies) is vigilant to foresee advantage, and so preserve by diligence when courage of the rest is little worth: So should superiors in birth be as much provident for the safety of those, in respect of whom they be superior, as to esteem their birthright a blessing.  
It is therefore no safe conclusion, to say he is the eldest, and so most excellent; but he is the eldest, and therefore should be most excellent: For in production of the soul it fares otherwise with a man, then with unreasonable creatures; among which there needs no better warrant to signify courage, than the first breed, which signifies the strength of Nature in the Parents or Breeders. But with Man, (who communicates with Beasts only in form) it is only sufficient for him to challenge in his Issue what himself bestows: As for the Divine Materials of Reason, if sometimes they do hereditarily succeed to the son of a prudent father, we may from hence conclude, that GOD more often dispenses with it, to make man see the true ORIGINAL, rather than Flesh should challenge any part; or Fathers think they be the sole efficients. For it is now made a common argument of the sons folly, if the FATHER be more then commonly wise. And I am very much persuaded, that this (if nothing else) may assure the Politician of some supreme disposer, who gives warning to his presumptuous folly through the plague of a foolish heir; 

Nihil dat quod non babet, ergo non babet: nam Si babuisset daret.  
His policies are not his own: for he would then impart them haereditarily to his Issue.   that he may overvalue himself at his own peril: seeing he hath often his own workmanship before his eyes, to argue against him, and his arrogant conceit. Be it sufficient therefore that cunning Nature, which principally and commonly works out each natural man's existence by causes well known, Matter, Form, and Privation, is not able in things essential, to distribute any particle without Divine providence: so the eldest naturally inherits nothing as by peculiar claim, but senseless lineaments of body. Howsoever, most convenient it is, that every one by birth ennobled, either by single priority, or priority united to noble parentage, should seek to accomplish the part of nature undone in more than complement, civil silence, or common passages; and make the birth absolute. For Man, a sluggish Creature, (prompt enough to decline after satiety) seems naturally to be unfurnished, that he might not be unoccupied. So Nature hath left much imperfect, to intimate by the vacant absence of some things needful, that man's labour should make things useful. Nature affords timber, but workmanship the structure: the earth produces o'er, but Art the Silver: Nature gives plants, Knowledge the use: Among all which she doth require a more ample and less supplement, according to the value, rarity or estimation of the thing. For Chemics know, the more precious metals ask more pains in extraction of the true quintessence, than base Minerals: Gold is the seventh time purified, and then becomes beautiful: besides the quality of things more precious, ought still to be equivalent with their precious subject. Courageous horses be managed with curiosity: delicate voices be selected to learn harmonies, whilst harsh and strong voiced criers be ridiculous. Diamonds, not glass, become pure metal, and rich garments have much costly appearance. High bloods likewise be the fittest receptacles for high actions; but if a sackcloth be embroidered, the adjunct may deserve honour, though the groundwork be Plebeian: and men of upstart Parentage may, in respect of brain, take place before Nobility, though their persons be odious. Ourselves and parents, or instructors, be the secondary causes which protract or abbreviate, every or impoverish, our own destinies. For either we are driven with fatal obstinacy, to overtake fortune; else, by the negligence of education, or being not seasoned in minority, our stupid dullness gives Fortune leave to overtake us. High birth is so far from privilege to exempt any from these, as it approaches near to misery, when shame is unprevented; and makes destiny notorious.  
I know no difference therefore betwixt the degrees of Fortune, if Birth alone makes the comparison. For which is more predominant, if one of obscure fortune becomes public by merits, remaining still the same if he transgress; or if one descended nobly, doth but deserve himself, and family, through great engagements, being ready to descend below himself if he miscarry, and be as public in disgrace, as upstarts in applause? For this Age of Innovation is fitter to behold one swimming to a remote shore, then to revolve how happily the inhabitants be there delighted: fitter to see new actions, & active spirits proceeding, than the maintenance of honour proceeded: and fitter to behold one falling from a rock, then from a stumbling molehill. So that if Noblemen advanced, continue so; and ambitious Gentry, nay or baseness, do aspire and thrive, I see no difference: if ruin threatens both, the last transcends in outward happiness. The best similitude which makes diversity, reaches but thus far: I see an embroidered empty purse, and stoop to view it narrowly, because the outside glisters: I spurn a powch before me, and hear the sound of silver; I take both, keep both, and will esteem the coin above the empty purse, and yet prefer the outsides alone not both alike; because the one is capable and beauteous already, the other doth contain already, but can never be beauteous: no more than upstarts, though renowned in merits, can ever take Nobility of Birth; because it will demand succession to confirm antiquity. So that ennobled fortunes (being an outward beauty) shall but make me more willing (as an embroidered purse) to see their insides, not enlarge their value: when as perhaps one basely obscure, shall more purchase my reverence, though less attract my labour to discover him. As for the chief ornaments which qualify great parentage, they should be such as make most in the advancement of a Commonwealth. For when Laws receive their body from the concordance of Nobility; it must (by good conjecture) follow, that the life or motion of them (which is an equal prosecution of justice) would, through the countenance of Nobility, receive more credit and reverence. For the visible dignity of persons, doth atract sluggish or obstinate beholders, with unanimity or terror.  
Thus ignorant men (unacquainted with our state of question) will often wish within themselves, That a Dunce or Coward may prevail before the Combat, because they incline more to the estimation of his carriage, fame, or feature, then to the others: which love doth (notwithstanding) sometimes vanish into fear, adoration, or a reverend conceit. The very name of Crumwell was able to dissever insurrections; 
〈◊〉  so much was he credited with an opinion of sincere gravity. To be a man likewise generally famous, doth oftentimes dispense with comeliness of parsonage, and purchaseth full applauded success in every dispatch under the patent of having been generally commended, But if popular fame be not gracious, the ornaments of body, comeliness, and behaviour, must be assistant to High birth, in public achievements of honour, to make a prosperous beginning. For single birth, without additions, is no general to command an Army, or to prevail with multitudes: which (by the order of reason) should be a Noble and generous intention, because birth is sooner capable of respect only then base agents.  
By this caution therefore did the Noblest Romans apply themselves to take the patronage of Plebeians; 
〈◊〉  accounting it the most honourable entrance, to exercise their efficacy of birth, by the protection of poor Clients, or otherwise illiterate Citizens: The frequency of which custom made Nobility famous. It is the excellent sign of man's participation with Divinity, to discern and judge of nature.  
This therefore should be the singular part of instruction among Noble pupils, and all that would become proficients, to certify, allay, and augment nature: which cannot be by a restraint, but by giving free liberty to enjoy all, that so the worst may be removed; else by a 
* This poli●y ●n●rap●● 〈…〉 it ●hew 〈…〉 and so in 〈◊〉 easily prevented.  colourable restraint of that which formerly was permitted. For when we say, Natura recurrit, we must conceive, Nature hath tasted: for Ignoti nulla cupido. And by the consequent, whilst we dote upon things absent, our inclination is discovered.  
From hence therefore did Phrina know Praxitelus loved the Image of his Satire, because when he heard his house was burnt, he asked only if the Satire were safe: So when we have once enjoyed, and now lack our custom, desire will be manifest.  
It is not therefore wisdom to correct the natures of children, by keeping them in covert from the world's eye, unless they be appointed for a Monastery. For that which we cannot do, because we know not, we dare do freely when we are acquainted. But Nature being discovered, by having once enjoyed, years will then easily admit a contrariety. And as Wormwood, rubbed upon the nipple of a Nurse's Teat, weans the child; so thy detestation, or continual invective against that vice which thou wouldst abolish in the Child's nature, removes it sooner than stripe, or furious choler towards the Child himself. For these be able to make him, not abandon the vice, because he abhors thee; and in despite will keep it, notwithstanding eye-service: whereas folly being hated for its own sake, (because it is deformed) the expounder of this deformity may be still beloved.  
Vicious men may, without question, be entertained by Princes, & give much morality: provided always, that apprehensive natures be near hand, to make applications. For then as the Ape's heart (it self being a most timorous Creature) being well applied, begets courage in the patient: So Cowards, Epicures, and blasphemous persons, may (by good compositions) produce Valiancy, Abstinence, and Humility in Princes: but poisons be a dangerous physic, without skilful professors.  
The study to discern Nature in Noble persons, should be equivalent to their own disquisition of nature in others; for seeing they ought by superintendence to overlook man, they should be perfect in the Character of Man, bearing their best Library about them.  
They should represent the Lion, who is noted (above all) to carry a most valiant head, and a Majestic countenance; intimating the apparent and invisible potency of high spirits.  
Besides (that I may continue this Mythology) the neck of a Lion hath no joints; whereby he cannot look backwards, unless he turns his body; neither can Princes, without scandal to their courage, and bounty, turn their head only upon the foe that makes pursuit, with a meaning to run away faster, and not regain their Title, or recall gifts with an intention to upbraid, except they turn themselves to encounter, or their just rage to inflict a deserved ruin. The back of Lions carries a magnanimous breadth: And all the noble deeds of Ancestors, historical examples of Monarches, with infinite renowned precepts of former ages, make but one broad back precedent, to strengthen the wisdom of Princes. The bones of a Lion have less marrow than others; for lascivious suell diminisheth valour. The want of pith therefore makes Oak more durable than Elda; and a contempt of wantonness provokes Princes to an unmovable subsistence. lions have an exquisite property to smell out their own advantage: For it is reported, the male knows when the Lioness hath been adulterous with the Panther, by a peculiar sense of smelling: And the wisest part of men worthily descended, is to betray their own abuses; for men of this rank are incident to strong delusions. A Lion sleeps and yet his eyes are open: so provident high Statesmen, that possess much, cannot have eyes too many, or too watchful: Neither may absolute man incur security. When Lions devour, famine doth enforce them; And when Kings take the sword, a zealous appetite, to satisfy forgotten virtue, should provoke them. Neither may generous Natures be nobly offended, except, as by an impulsive, or sufficient cause, they overcome. So by a heroic scorn to malice, they can both swallow and digest the cause with the conquest.  
Howsoever it may be fictitiously reported, that Lions have (by a miraculous motion) been defensive to condemned Martyrs; yet may the observation afford thus much morality: That, as a true noble man may by no means receive a more excellent moderation of spirit, and spur, to greatly-good actions, then by a religious Fear; so cannot this be any way expressed better (himself being so eminent) then in perfection of Divine justice, and good men's causes. It is admirable (if true) to see how generously Lions have scorned to be base debtors: Insomuch that it is memorably reported, Androcles a vagabond captive, cured a lions paw; In gratification whereof, 
Gellius.  the Lion afterwards (when Androcles was among the Roman spectacles to be devoured) spares, and protects him against a rampant Pardall: Which carrieth a double precept for generous natures ': First, a preservative against ingratitude, where followers have been serviceable; then a contempt to be a slavish debtor (if means can avoid it) especially to baseminded Tradesmen; who upon single debts enforce a double engagement: Both of credit and restitution: for if you remain in their books for a commodity, you must remain likewise in their favour to avoid scandal, reiterations, and commemorations among all societies.  
Such is the common treacherous baseness of their conditions, though they protest otherwise; which may exhort any Noble mind to believe this Maxim True; He hath discharged half his reputation among men, that scorns the credit of a Citizen, or ind●ed any man. An other singular note is fixed upon this magnanimous beast above written; his wrath extends no further than the provocation. And therefore when the Arabian soldier, 
Gesar.  charging a Lion with his Spear, was disappointed of the object, and overthrew himself with violence; the Lion returned, & only nipping his head a little (for his presumption) departed quietly. This being confirmed with many famous examples, I may infer thus much. If it may seem convenient or honourable for Nobility offended, to punish, not respecting penitent submission (which may without high offences seem tyrannical) yet if the punishment exceed the crime, we may confidently account it bestial, & worse. Again it is notably remembered, that Lions never run away, except they can privately withdraw, (being overcome with multitude) into a secure Mountain, or wilderness. And I observe that it ill becomes a brave resolution, to enter himself among projects, from which he must necessarily recoil, except he carries a cautelous eye, and true circumspection. Lastly, I may conclude this moralised comparison, with Aesop's controversy betwixt a Lioness and the Fox: the Fox commends her own fruitful generation, seeming to disgrace the lions single birth, to which this answer doth rejoin: I bring forth one, & yet that one is a Lion: which good allusion may remove the curse which some would cast upon Nobility, because often their children in number be inferior to common prostitutes: But I am peremptorily resolved, that the multiplicity of children rears up an obscure family, and brings an ancient stock to ruin: For among many base children's blessings, birth may make variety of fortunes: But among much Noble posterity, Fortune doth challenge a more vast partition; and makes a discontented heir fit for all innovating enterprises; so that one Noble remainder of much antiquity, or one true Lion of a family (if Art and Nature can be made operative) will be a more safe prop to succession, than the doubtful variety of children. I observe it as an infallible rule, that there have been as many base originals, as their have been honourable descents in Nobility. For, as questionless the largest Rivers be derived from lowly Springs; So birth and succession have been so basely intermingled, so casually interrupted, so frequently impaired, and very often attainted (though with absolution) that I may well justify the first principle, and add further, That generally, to maintain the noble estate of dead Ancestors, requires as much true policy, as to erect a new Family: And to exceed the pattern of heroic ancestry, deserves perpetual commendations. Which purpose cannot prosper well, except we prevent or avoid oppositions, rather than purchase new addition. For men may climb better by troublesome, rough, and dangerous passages, then stand tottering upon the eminent spire: and therefore hath contentious dealing been the overthrow of kingdoms, and flourishing Captains; because prosperity is waspish, & brooks no competition, nor almost assistance. The Historian therefore saith well: None more deaf to counsel then natures unthwarted; 
Plutarch.  none more obtemperate to be counseled, than men destitute. As for the ambitious ecstasy of noble spirits, which makes them indirectly consult upon new addition; the Fable doth condemn them perspicuously: for like Aesop's Dog, they snatch at shadows, and lose the certainty, who dote upon such covetous desires. Presumption also, and Popularity, be two treacherous confederates: the first was never good when a King's favour is the object; so long as Mines and Countermines have been the Court-devises. The last will never be good; so long as people do but conduct their favourites to the Scaffold, and cry Alas, it is pity; but who can help it? The first cannot thrive, because offences with Kings outweigh merits: as also the jealous còceit of safety, is a multitude of fears, and they threaten the most highly favoured: The last is mortal, because he surfeits of one dish; nothing but fame: served in (like Turkish Rice) by infinite waiters. And shall we wonder if it chokes him, when he devours all? The best love therefore that can be bestowed upon the people, or the best friendship that you can receive from them, is to suffer them in things indifferent, or not to show a currish severity: for (like the Hungarian Heyduckes) their wrath is prone to mischief, and their amity is worth nothing: so that indeed to flatter with them, and not regard them, is a sound proposition: For if Coriolanus contemns their authority, they can abhor his name, and banish his person: or at least banish him from prevailing in public assistance. The safest course (that I can be acquainted with) to confirm and perfectly retain noble dignities with good approval; is to be immutable honest, and no reported Politician: for the very name contains (among general opinions) much powder-treason, Atheism, curses of inferiors, and condemnations of all, except their close minions.  
An other thing that doth briefly replenish a noble Spirit, must be more example, dispatch, or quick perfect motion, than precepts or doctrines: These being the dull laborious object, of melancholy Artists; the other being a Rhetorical inducement to establish the delight of action: In which nothing draws greater efficacy, than speediness and fortunate event; though both these rely much upon a contriving faculty, which is begotten by a frequent practice. And therefore it betokens a sluggish fear, and private weakness, when we loath to enterprise: For courageous minds acquire ability (through custom) equal to desire: but when the appetite fails I perceive no stomach of Nobility. It may seem somewhat controversial, whether State-knowledge, or Militant resolutions be more graceful to generosity: And, questionless, I conceive few Roman Senators, or not any (except Cicero) was unsufficient to lead an Army, as well as to deliver his opinion in the councel-chamber: both be so unseparably annexed, as we may hardly think he advises the Commonwealth lovingly, who is afraid to justify the commonwealths quarrel; when himself adiudges it lawful. As for the outward pomp or magnificence of mighty persons, it may become a festival day better than common policy: for this age doth not so soon adjudge the royal mind, as the fantastic humour, by expense of needless bravery; accounting that rather magnificence, when we expend our own about the kingdoms glory: which by reflex produces an apparent love, and fear toward such active spirits. For all men reverence him truly, who is impartial, and industrious to advance equity, or to confirm goodness with goodness among a l. And howsoever the full stomachs of men will hardly suffer them to commend such worthy ones alive; yet have their deaths been always deplorable. Whereas politic brains with false bottoms, have found a public curse, which was before restrained with Authority.  
I dare not become an Instructor, it appertains to deep Professors: Neither can I reprove, it may incur the name of Malapert: I labour only, to prove by demonstrative reasons, which is bare Counsel. As for Nobility, if it bear the name of Legitimate, it will bear a contempt also (with Agesilaus) to be reproved, when pains may happily discharge their function. Neither at any time shall high births aspire to hazardous donwfalls, if they esteem honour as the reward of virtue, 
Theophrastus.  no virtue in itself.   

Of Disinheritance. ESSAY. V.  
IT is more impossible for an unnatural father to be a true friend, then for an abused son, to be an obedient son: because I think it is an irrepugnable precept. That he who from a devilish disposition finds a soone-moved contrariety betwixt himself and his undoubted children, must (of necessity) be a man who refuses all men, except advantage pleads for them; seeing he neglects those, for whom nature pleads, if advantage be absent. The same may be inferred concerning all degenerate Kinsfolk, though in a less degree. But for the first I have observed it generally; that he who was apt for disinheritance, hath been a man always of as many affections, as there be faces: And as prompt to refuse any, as to receive any, if he might save by the bargain. Howsoever subjects be now grown so tyrannical, that where pretences may accomplish their malice, they cannot think there is a God, or, at least, they think God favours their proceedings. For calumnious pretences, and aggravated trifles have been the common gloss of parent's cruelty in this kind: Their precedent is vulgar, for tyrants never slew without state-Alchimy, or multiplication of pretended treasons; neither may Alexander lack occasion, so long as he had a meaning to kill Antisten●s. The hungry wolf may call the lamb his debtor, but a good stomach is the day of payment and the proverb is well verified: If thou wouldst beat a dog here is a staff. So that although churlish parents pretend just causes of disinheritance, yet these are quickly found, soon allowed, & as soon amplified. Fron whence you may gather, that no spark of natural affection, but only a compulsive maintenance, keeps the reference betwixt such parents, and such children. For loving nature and affection be flexible, of long forbearance, much pity, manifest care; & keep an established form of affability, with which friends or kinsfolk be unacquainted: this provokes an eminent reflex of love; whereas rough carriage begets love in Curs, but a contemptible scorn in Noble Spirits.  
It is therefore more commendable to follow the extreme of virtue abounding, then defective: The first partakes with mediocrity in the nature; but the last is altogether opposite. We may more safely therefore allow indulgence, than austerity; because it approacheth nearer to true love. For though indulgence hath made children lofty in behaviour towards others, yet (I observe) it breeds a true and undivorced affection towards the original cause. It is therefore an excellent rule, for children, to receive instruction of strangers; and by the consequent, to be any way restrained without the parents knowledge, or at least their taking notice: whereby Nature cannot grudge against Nature, nor yet want reprehension.  
For howsoever Marcus Cato said well, That he had rather unrewarded for doing well, then unpunished for offences: yet we have naturally a secret spleen against the judge, though we account him righteous and impartial. It must be expected then, that children do know a difference betwixt Fathers and Masters; which makes them the more implacable, when they see Nature impartial. From hence Sertorius, a politic Captain, would not himself repress the impudence of his Soldiers; least, howsoever they deserved ill, yet his correction might take away their loving duty: which respect made him suffer the enemy's incursions, rather to scourge their insolence, whilst they, out of a harebrained lunacy desired battle. And thus the sacred decree of Correction may be kept unviolate, and the love of Children unblemished. For I am unanswerably persuaded, that parent's wrath diminisheth the Child's love, making him servile, or else refractory to the doctrine of themselves and others; because they cannot undertake with delight, so long as frowns and fear be crept into their fancy. But affable parents beget truly affectionate children, who may endure another man's reproof to mitigate the name of Cosset, and yet lovingly adore the father because he was always loving. So then the Father's diligent love, and a Tutors modest instruction, may make a seldome-seene heir affect his Father's life without hypocrisy, and prove a venerable wise man. Without which love apparent, or oftentimes indulgence, I see an eldest son, instead of the Father's blessing, render back sweeting curses. I see another inclining only to the mother; and a third, slip into his disinherited Fortune.  
The Comedian therefore saith ingenuously touching a father's duty: I overpass expenses, I call not every thing to a strict account; and that which other sons labour to keep secret, I do not bitterly condemn in mine, lest many things should be concealed; for he that (through a rugged usage) deprives his father (by false excuses) of youthful accidents, will soon deceive others. It is more available then, to govern by liberality, not base compulsion: for he that thus becomes obedient, expects only till he may want the witness of his actions.  
Now for the dangerous effect of parents changeable love (it having been propounded, that want of love breeds disinheritance) I will demonstrate, how horrible, unlawful, & impossible disinheritance maybe judiciously accounted. The divorce of marriage is a weighty case, much forbidden, much controverted; because marriage itself is made a strict union, so far as Husbands seem incorporate with their Wives, being both to be taken as one flesh. But this union admits many exceptions; neither may any think their being made one, extends further, than the rhetorical aggravation of unity, to insinuate how difficult a thing Divorce will be betwixt two, so narrowly united: but children have a more exquisite property of indivorceable, because they really partake with parents by existence; deriving a particular & true strength of body from the parent's ability. And therefore it seems the matter of disinheritance is a thing so odious, as (being held improbable to be acted among the jews, or any Nation) no Law of Scripture contradicts it. Indeed rebellious sons are by the verdict of Divine injunction, to suffer death, if they shall strike the parents, or rise up against them: But for the matter of Disinheritance (which far transcends the punishment of death, as shall appear) I have read no syllable which may give the toleration of Divinity. Death indeed, comparatively respected, may be thought the best wages of a rebellious son: for the act includes his full sentence; because to smite his parent, is to seek the destruction of his efficient cause: which act keeps within it so much ingratitude, as heavenly justice can do no less then remove him, who durst remove his begetter; it being an inseparable part of holiness, to pay offenders with their own coin. But disinheritance so much exceeds death, as it approaches to a continued torment. Death is so fa●re from misery, wh●re men expiate offences, as it rather affords felicity, because it gives a present satisfaction, and a present hope to enjoy a good portion; if penitence, and a satisfactory mind be companions. But disinheriritance, or abdication, doth not only enforce death, but makes the circumstance tyrannical. A violent death is but an abridgement of nature; but disinheritance doth often bring a violent death, and enlarge the wickedness of nature. I see no difference betwixt them in the conclusion: for death is an effect commonly of disinheritance; but no death more excludes all humanity. The case is palpable. I give directions to a traveller: he arrogantly contemns my counsel; which doth so much provoke me, as (to amend the matter) I draw him by compulsion to an apparent ambush: in which, after many sustained abuses, horrible vexations, and desperate encounters, he concludes his life with infamy; or perhaps blasphemy. So, currish and cruel parents, by disinheritance deals every way answerable to this similitude. The hor●or of which barbarism is the more amplified, by so much as natural affinity claims a more human precedent than strangers. Banishment or abjuration is tolerable: for it takes original by public decree, superior counsel, and authority of those, from whom I can challenge nothing but justice; whereas disinheritance, a National banishment (transcending foreign exile in the Cause and Manner) proceeds from private occurrences, which cannot reach so high an affliction; because the nature of it is equal to, nay above public justice.  
Now it may well be esteemed human, when parents punish with rigour, where the Law condemns not; because in every offence highly punishable, the Law is open: if that condemns, the Parent's love may a little be excused, though he doth not excuse his sons accusation; but where himself exceeds the laws rigour, when the Law is silent, and becomes Accuser, judge, and Executioner, we may discover a damnable flinty heart; apt enough for massacre; seeing he first plays the tyrant with his own Image.  
Parents therefore cannot argue and say (except Disinheritance) they have no remedy for disobedience; seeing there is no crime which may deserve so great satisfaction, but the Law is all-sufficient to render justice, and save them unpreiudiced in the aspersion of Unnatural: which the Title Disinheritance draws with it inseparate. For if we take a view of those impulsive causes which breed occasion, we shall perceive how accessary Parents be to all their children's vices; and by the consequent, how culpable they are to punish that so strictly, of which themselves be Authors.  
Setting aside the position which makes the Children participate with Parents in vices liable to constitution, we may (without these) demonstrate, how guilty they are of each notorious crime in Children, through a deficiency of rectified education. For as, in natural productions, nothing is so absurd, from which Art cannot extract a dear quintessence; so among natural men, and the conditions of humanity, nothing is so irregular, from which industrious and true instructive method cannot produce a Divine excellence. Indeed the disquisition of natures is difficult, and much judicious labour belongs to the true sifting of a perverse disposition. But questionless, the worst natured among all bad men, are, by a true seasoning of minority, a wise progress, or institution of ripe years, and an ingenious confirmation of practices well deserved; they are capable of goodness, subdued in mischief, and apprehensive in a sufficient measure. So that we must not ignorantly impute the curse of Children to a wrong cause, seeing it is either the curse of the Parents; First, not to instruct children at all. Secondly, not to instruct them sufficiently. Thirdly, not in the true manner. Examples are infinite: Alcibiades may include all. He, a voluptuous and sensual Swaggerer, could never be reclaimed by many strong experiments; till coming by chance to the Philosophical Lecture of Socrates, he was suddenly converted: such a sympathy there was betwixt this Philosopher's doctrine, and the Disciples attention; whereas twenty others might perhaps have been frustrate in the same conversion, though their Precepts had been equal; because there is an invisible concordance to make them aequivalent.  
Which manner of instruction, respecting the quality and person, of method and Tutors, be matters only appertaining to the Parents charge. Now (if a curse imposed upon them, be a hindrance to the perfection of both, whereby they neither can be provided of true Instructors or instructions) Shall we accuse the child as an efficient of the Father's curse, or the father's curse now existent, as an original of the child's future inconveniences?  
This being necessarily concluded, we may well infer, concerning disinheritance, That parents' curses being the only causes which may provoke this irreligious act (seeing they might sometimes, but do not, and do not sometimes because they cannot, though it be possible, engrafted goodness) by their own ignorance; we may infer, (and that most justly) that they resemble Heliogabalus, who being the cause of his friends drunkenness, would cast the miserable wretches amongst tame Bears and Lions, to terrify them when they awaked. But herein they differ: he was the voluntary cause of his Friends; Parents, the unadvised cause of their children's error: in stead of which he threw his friends among tame Bears and Lions; Parents, by disinheritance, throw their issue amongst rampant Wolves.  
For besides the perplexed imfamie, and sorrowful perturbations of such excluded castaways; what shall we conjecture touching their desperate resolution? Or how shall we condemn, if they be mercilessely overthrown by the impulsive necessity of destruction? Seeing their destitute fortune invites them to embrace each glistering temptation, and to shake hands with calamity.  
I cannot (for mine own part) comprehend all this without remembrance and pity of such parents ruins; seeing they cannot discharge all, before children have incurred destruction without them.  
Nothing is written which doth not amplify our instruction (saith Divinity) and Nothing amongst all is more effectual than true OBSERVATIONS, except DIVINITY. Most ingenious therefore and full of persuasion, may that Morality be, soon collected from insensible creatures, they have an excellent and singular love (each creature in his kind) to nourish up their weak little ones. The hunted Lioness drives her whelps before. The pregnant Bear forsakes not her den until she be delivered; neither do the whelps come forrh until they can escape danger. The Snake swallows her young, if any disadvantage happens. And above all, most admirable is nature's ingenuity, touching that foreign creature, called by the name of Su; which (being persecuted) shuts up her cubs in a depending scrip, and so protects them from the Huntsman. The multitude of examples would be tedious. Briefly therefore, it is a general note among them; they never forsake their infantry till it be able every way (like themselves) to prevent mischief.  
This may rebuke all cruell-minded parents, who (notwithstanding the discursive light of reason) can cast off mere Humanity, and go beneath a brutish goodness of nature, not only to forsake, but to abhor their issue; and leave them destitute, before they be any way enabled to sustain nature. For children be indeed thus rejected ever, because they be unable. Omitting these indifferent allegations, which some may account sophistry, rather than sound doctrine; because they believe nothing but what Scripture makes apparent; nor that can be accepted among them, unless no Christian contradicts it; neither can that which all acknowledge, win oftentimes any more than outward belief. It shall be therefore sufficient to confute this error in question, by the soundest proof; and then the unbelief of Hypocrites will serve to multiply their condemnations.  
We cannot (where things be left untouched in Scripture) assume a safer pattern than the Omnipotent properties of our Creator. First then, that Metaphorical affinity, of father and son, which Himself hath pleased to entertain betwixt Himself and the Elected, may serve to instruct parents (without controversy) in all degrees of duty, and inseparate relation.  
Now all agree upon this Principle, that whomsoever God hath once loved, him he hath loved everlastingly. It is impossible therefore, if at any time there hath been Amity betwixt father and son, that (this being observed) it should fall away to disinheritance. For if God's Majesty descend so low, as to continue his love always where He hath begun to Love: shall not imitation hereof be requisite in fathers, who be commanded to love their children, and in whom nature exacts more proportionate equality, then in the least degree can be imagined betwixt holiness and frailty? each circumstance appears so manifest, as I know not how Sophisters can colourably distinguish. A second instance may confirm this precedent. God never hath forsaken the most wicked Reprobates, till they have voluntarily forsaken him first: The prodigal demanded his portion, left his father, and yet the father willingly accepts him being converted. This becomes far opposite to the practice of our age: so peremptory is the humour of disinheriting-parents, as they forget common charity, and refuse love with an implacable contempt of reconcilement. As for the pretended causes which commonly provoke parents, I cannot any way conjecture, that they be either half so infinite, or in the least degree so terrible, as those with which all parents provoke Omnipotence: & therefore I cannot well see how such fathers can claim the petition of forgiveness, when they cannot forgive their own issue. The heir of a Kingdom entitles himself not more justly to his Crown, than eldest sons do to their homely inheritance. Now I observe, that wheresoever hath been a successory regiment, there, weake-braind, riotous, tyrannical, and lewd princes, have been admitted to their dignities without contradiction. And doth not the blood of common heirs answer to a King's privilege, in the Title of Legitimate? Why then shall we protect such unjust partiality? If children should receive no more than they deserve: or if they should claim interest of love, no longer than merits make a full proportion; how should the liberality of parents, and the prerogative of children, appear? or what thanks and filial love may Fathers expect from such Children, more than from good Apprentices? Cimon could entomb his Mares, when they purchased credit in the swift races of Olympiad's. Xanthippus could bewail his dogs death which had followed his Master from Calamina. Alexander could erect a City in the honour of Bucephalus, when he had long been defended by him in the dangerous attempts of many fortunate battles. The Ass may well (among the Heathen) be adorned with Lilies, Violets, and Garlands; when their Goddess, Vesta, by an Ass' voice, avoided the rape of Priapus. If merits therefore should only challenge the love of parents, nothing might make a difference betwixt sons and bondslaves: Seeing bare Humanity, and the Law of Nations hath accounted the honours of One worthy to be honoured, nothing but equal and necessary thanks. Nay, in all ages, so bountiful and respective hath authority been to true merits, as even the desertless children have met with dignity to remunerate the father's worthiness: Thus did the Athenians bestow great wages upon Lysimachus, to gratify the service of Aristides: And thus the Romans preferred the cause of Marcus Brutus, because his Ancestors had took the Country's quarrel against tyrants. Shall fathers than esteem it such irregular custom to dignify their own begotten issue, though desertless; seeing strangers have done this to congratulate good fathers?  
Two examples there be ancient and modern (worth our memory) that show the practice of our Theme in question; and affords singular observation. The first is evident, in the reign of Agis a Lacedaemonian King: In whose principal City of Sparta, the custom had prohibited alienations that prejudice the heir: The custom grew to be a confirmed Law: After continuance, there fell a difference betwixt one of the highest Magistrates and his eldest son: The father was so actually provoked, that he exhibits a Decree to licence Disinheritance; the Decree was established: And afterward (saith Plutarch) covetousness became public. From hence my observation is double. First, the original cause of disinheritance was fury: Secondly, the commodity was rank covetousness.  
Lastly, it is apparent by the Tower-rowles, that (during the reign of Edward the fourth) one Thomas Burdet an Englishman, being somewhat innocently condemned to death (about captions terms ignorantly uttered) in his way to death espied his eldest son, whom (before) he disinherited: him therefore he penitently received; and having now confessed seriously, that he felt God's wrath upon him only to punish that unnatural sin: He humbly begged forgiveness of God, and of his son: The application of such a penitent remorse is easy.  
Having now marshalled up this troup of Arguments, which (I think) are approvable; some (questionless) will account them white-livered soldiers, dressed up only with a Rhetorical habit: But censure is no less infinite, then oftentimes odious: Trial therefore shall discharge the integrity of these; whilst I proceed briefly to muster one troup more; whose courage is enough animated by their adversaries weakness; if not impossibility of appearance. For if the birthright (which entitles an heir) be inseparate, than the prerogative is also inseparate; for inheritance depends upon priority; which being unremovable; the adjunct essential cannot perish without the subject. Relations therefore be so congruous, that we may sooner affirm the Son and Father not to be, than heirs and inheritance not to be correlatives: and by the consequent as lawfully may we deprive both of Being; as we may permit the one without the other. (: *:.: *:.: *:) (***)   

ESSAY. VI Of Poetry.  
POETRY is called the work of nature: I rather think it a Divine alacrity, entertained by the fitness of nature: for if (in general) a cheerful spirit partakes of a Divine influence; then this (being spiritually maintained, with a desire to communicate, and express such quickening inventions) can be no other, being the soul of alacrity, than an invisible Divine work; which doth transport nature; whilst nature marvels at the cause. 
* Aristotle.  Philosophy hath divided our soul's faculty; and makes the Intelligent part our principal essence; that cannot perish: Poetry depends on that, and a sublime fancy; they being the helps of our dispofall: or (to speak truly) a Poet useth every function of the soul: Depending upon which, he must reject Nature: for Nature perisheth; the Soul cannot. Nature is then the Handmaid; but an Infusive worthiness, the soul of Poetry.  
Conceive but this, and Nature will disclaim: Nature imparts her Faculties by Generation; excluding study and custom: A Poet never is engendered so, further than a natural Logician, therefore he exceeds Nature.  
We may observe a sweet concordance in this mighty Fabric: All things are coupled with an allusive union: Life, is a flash of immortality; Sleep, of death: middle age of Summer: Arts also, and ages past, have a similitude with things inferior, and signify things future.  
Language is likened to a Casket, Logic to an Artificers Instrument; Rhetoric to a precious Colour; And Poetry likewise hath a fit resemblance with Prophecy: both be an unutterable rapture; both be a boundless large capacity: both be a universal tractate: both be confined within a small number: both be discredited with false pretenders: both be dispersed among men (originally) obscure: both be alike neglected: both (generally) contemned alike.  
Poetry is made the conveyance of amorous delights: and certainly it doth bestow much sweetness in appareling love-accents. This only might discover it for a supreme donative; seeing the music in heaven is an agreement of souls. Jerome Savanarola, the Monkish Philosopher, makes Poetry a part of reasonable Philosophy; maintaining this, against natural pretenders of Poetry: I will not meddle with his arguments, they are elaborate and learned: the truth is evident without serious proof.  
Verse and Rhyme be things natural: for they be only colour and appearance: but if you value the Phrase and the Materials after the same proportion; as thinking your conceit able to furnish a poem; you shall indeed perceive it likewise natural; that is, naked, unpolished, nay the scorn of Poetry. A quick contriving head may utter laudably; but never was a brain so sudden, as to compose well without the precedent of others in the like kind: nay, take the most illiterate Writers, (who propound experience and familiar allusions) they have a time to Meditate, to compare, to dispose.  
This Art of Poetry cannot prove eminent, unless the writer hath a rejoicing heart, an apprehensive head, and a disclouded memory. It is impossible therefore for one dejected by calamity, or one perplexed with questions of another Science, to get perfection in this free knowledge: I say, perplexed with questions of another Science; because a Poet should rather copiously discourse of all, by application to a witty purpose, rather than be exquisite in a particular Art, respecting depth of rule, or quiddity. Notions, conjectures, and some of the best passages, be more sufficient for him, than a precise certainty of rules.  
He therefore who propounds excellence, must refuse the multitude of questions, and the vexation of miseries: both be as clogs and fetters to that aspiring faculty. From hence I may conclude the perfection of this Science doth match the strains of right Alchemy: it being (in both) alike impossible to find that man who shall directly promise to attain perfection; because impediments exceed the means. The nourishment of Poetry is good applause: for Poems being made to allure and bewitch the reader in a lesson of moral precept, must prosper in their meaning, or be discountenanced: As all professions be, which make men's good opinions the reward of knowledge: and therefore hath England afforded few men accurate in Poetry, because opinion hath vouchsafed to rank her among trivial labours, and recreative vanities: whereas the Italians have proved singular proficients; because (saith Rosinus) authority hath graced their elegance. The reason (I think) which hath wrought in England such a degenerate value of Poems, proceeded (first) from the the professors ignorance & general baseness: but secondly from the stubborn gravity of the best readers; who scorn to account the best Poems profitable works, because all have hitherto been accounted slight composures, or at best unprofitable. And we imagine it a weakness to recant an error. Some have certainly contemned the worthiest labours even through malicious despair of attempting the like worthily. Howsoever, the base opinion which Poetry incurs among us, hath been repaid with justice: that is, the discredit of our Nation: for our undervaluing opinion hath deprived the public of more judicious works than be already extant: And so the glory of our Nations eminent wit, hath been eclipsed with foreigners.  
As for the private and sensible benefit (which any shall conceive in publishing his labours) I see none virtuous but this: he may excuse (by them) his silent nature; and be accounted better, as a Melancholy Poet, than a speechless fool. Fame and Eminence savour of a fruitless ambition; that will now purchase nothing for Poetry by preferment, but an opinion that Poetry is his knowledge, and (it being so) that he is fit for nothing else: or some perhaps; nay, the wisest, will bestow compassion, and say, It is pity such a pregnant wit should endeavour so idly. These be the comforts of being famous: let Doetrs be ambitious of it. The deepest Poets have neglected verse, I mean the polished form of verse: but I would sooner love such works in prose; and heartily entreat such writers, even for their own dispatch-sake, and the readers also, to abandon Poetry, except they can avoid that crabbed style and form, which weakens any reader's appetite and apprehension.  
The relish of Poetry is a candied bark: an elegance so sweetened with apt phrase and illustration, as it excludes rough harshness, and all mystery: controversies and Philosophical questions be therefore improper arguments for a Poetical tractate: they cannot be expressed with an enticing liberty. Similitudes be the fit interpreters of Poets: when I affirm this, I do not approve all similitudes, but such as do interpret: which they cannot do, except they be more familiar than the thing interpreted. This condemns any, who from a depth in learning, shall produce the Mathematics, to illustrate Grammar: or shall compare things known by repetition to an example in Astronomy.  
Poor and Prodigal have been a Poet's Titles: these have been fixed with a contemptive meaning: but I imagine they advance his quality: for therefore he neglects wealth, because he feels in himself a jewel which can redeem his bondage in adversity. Freedom of Brain and Body is a Poet's music: Peace and Health preserve, and do revive his fancy. When therefore a Reward is motive, it makes the labour like itself, servile. Poetry should therefore (being an impartial free science) be undertaken by the free Professor; a man sufficient in estate: such a one as need not use flattery to win reward; nor so indite, that things may be dispatched quickly, and his wants quickly furnished; nor so dispatch, that he may rather make things saleable, through obscoenitie or scandals, than approved labour. These mischiefs follow a mercenary hope: and therefore be mercenary Poets odious: such (I mean) as are provoked by poverty, and will exact their wages.   

ESSAY VII. Of Discontents.  
PLeasure and Sorrow be the objects of virtue: but discontents may be thought rather the objects of pleasure. Virtue moderates the folly of pleasure & sorrow: but pleasure so moderated, removes discontents. I reckon discontents among my private 
* Sorrow may be admitted in behalf of public▪ calamities which can not be s● well termed Discontents.  sorrows; which amplify my own misfortune; which feel the same (perhaps) a greater torment for my friend's misery, than my own: yes, I am better assured of my own fortitude to contemn sorrows, then of my friend's aptness, to relish my counsels; or of his own freedom to advise himself: and therefore his vexation (he being myself) afflicts me more injuriously: because I can overcome my own, better than His. I call those properly Discontented, who are busiethoughted: who, like brainless patients, are almost desperate if another gives them poison; and yet (being recovered) they will adventure to poison themselves: for many of this rank you shall perceive, who having passed the discontents which come by others malice, will (of their own accord) frame new perplexities: They will conceive things otherwise then they be, and so nourish a conceit till they believe it real.  
Opinion is indeed the mediate cause of discontents; but then a rectified or false capacity (being an immediate cause of rectified or false opinions) begets a true or idle discontent. I call that idle, which is begotten by an idle fancy: such idle discontents are soon expelled; they are a causeless Melancholy, begot by alteration, dispersed by alteration: But Melancholy, meeting with a real cause, becomes a settled mischief. Howsoever, nothing (though most worth our discontent) can be said His or My discontent, unless we so conceive it. For certainly, a careless resolution may be freed from conscience and discontent together: whereas perhaps a nice examining head may so ensnare itself with multitude of thoughts, that the confusion may provoke both: but then a careless resolution serves worthily to abate such idle, and such real discontents. For as in natural bodies fasting and food destroy & nourish; so in our daily projects, considerative thoughts and careless negligence fasten & remove. The best 
* Plato. Gilen. Cicero. D. Thom.  Philosophers have left a doubtful number of men's perturbations; some assign six, some five, some four, some eleven. They might (in my conceit) be all reduced unto a triple number: including likewise the very causes of all discontent. Imagine therefore they proceed first from jealousies of what kind soever; either in being contemned, neglected, or ambiguous of good success: then from doubts not to be resolved, either through weakness of our understanding, or intricacy of the question, then from an extreme desire, either of things difficult or impossible. To jealousies, and such desires, all are incident; to doubts and questions, Scholars, or Scholarlike heads only: these comprehend the sum of all our crosses: of all our sorrows both in soul and body: Nay, all more narrowly may be reduced to a desire: for when we briefly say, He hath his desire, we must withal intend, that he is neither troubled with pleasure, grief, fear, audacity, hope or anger: the six turbulent passions reckoned by Plato.  
Certainly (amongst all) perplexed questions be to a labouring head, most troublesome: and less blamable was that found 
* Aristotle.  Philosopher, who made the Ocean capable of him, because he was not capable of reason for the Ebb and Flow; rather than such as be ashamed to live, when either neediness, fear, ignominy, grief, or disappoyntments contradict them. It is mere bestial to die upon such weak encounters; which might be all confuted with a Heathens knowledge: but then to die for ignorance may seem excusable: for such alive is bestial, where we are ignorant of reason; and better is it to be ignorant of reason how to prevent death, then to preserve life in ignorance. The truth is, our discontents of any kind do misinform our judgement; no otherwise then a busy knave, who (seeing the bad luck of lawful means) doth bribe the Magistrate and never was a Magistrate more easily bribed, then is a judgement (so oppressed) corrupted. We have no liberty to know, much less to judge; no reason to discourse, much less to put a difference, no freedom to conceive, much less to understand, when Discontents do trouble us. They interpose our brightest eminence of wisdom; no otherwise then clouds darken the suns glory: They keep a strong possession against our virtue & all good society. The most significant title they can deserve is Treacherous: for they breed sensibly an innovation; begetting in us a preposterous change; & that commonly proceeds from worse to worse: For being more incorporate with them & their mutations, we challenge less freedom in ourselves, to help ourselves. Discontents, like an extreme disease, be of a shifting nature: they delight continually in motion; as men vehemently sick do change their beds & chambers.  
A Discontented man does and undoes, that he may do again: thinking to lose his humour in variety; or by adventure (if by nothing else) among many changes to make one good one. But this desire of change corrupts our honesty. We shall perceive a threefold mischief which goes inseparate with discontents: for they be ready to seduce our thoughts, our words, our actions: We misesteem, miscondemn, misattempt, through discontented passions. The reason is manifest: for Discontent being the companion of our thoughts, makes them, our words and actions ruled by that; and so become unpleasing, like itself: Therefore do male contents undervalue merit in their own opinion; Therefore (being waspish) they detract from worthiness; therefore they dislike or do condemn bitterly; and therefore, likewise, do men thus affected, undertake more venturously then wisely. So that Sallust hath observed well touching the Character of Catiline's adherents; that they were Homines quos flagitium, egestas, aut conscius animus exagitabat.  
And, questionless, such men so inwardly bitten with their own afflictions, can find no leisure in themselves to keep affinity with others: Good Sovereign's therefore, loving Parents, honest Friends, loyal Subjects, wise Masters, have been no malcontents: for (being so) it is impossible that such a troubled Fountain should send forth any thing but offensive tumults. There is nothing more doth make our enemies rejoice, than a dejected spirit; and nothing more afflicts our soul then to be sensible of their rejoicings; therefore doth that experienced Prophet David so often wish for a deliverance from their triumph; so often doth he lament their insultations.  
Infinite are those advantages, which may be had against men discontented: and therefore hath a melancholy spirit some prerogative in this respect; because his time of discontent is scarce distinguished from his daily carriage; for night is sooner visible in an open Palace, than a smoky Cottage. I may propound of these, what Celsus doth of Coleworts: being half sodden, they are laxative; but twice sodden, they are binding: So discontents being but slightly apprehended and entertained, may be a means sitting to prepare the way for honest applications, and to purge security: But being suffered long to boil within us, they do confirm their own; and also stop the passage of other worse corruptions.  
Of Moral and awakening discontents, the wise Solomon speaks; when he resolves positively; Anger is better than laughter, for by a sad look the heart is made better: Melior est ira risu: quia per tristitiam vultus, corrigitur animus delinquentis: Some Favourites there be, so much beholding to Fortune, that in a whole AGE they have scarce learned the definition of sorrow.  
In these men the Proverb is verified; Fools are Fortunate; and yet agreeable with an honest meaning: For those (I think) are chiefly bound to Fortune, or Providence rather, who cannot through a good simplicity affect dishonest practices, and close dealings: It being consonant with reason, that men ill-befriended with a subtle Brain, should be assisted with some higher POLICY.  
All that we suffer, is by our OWN or FORTUNE'S work: We cannot be too patient with Fortunes, too much provoked with our own works of sorrow: when fortune punisheth, we have no remedy; when our own indiscretion punisheth, we may afflict ourselves the longer with a wise fury, that we may learn to recollect and to awaken our judgement.  
Some have a resolute contempt for all adversities; but such a valorous scorn may be engendered by a sottish ignorance, or an uncapable dullness; no otherwise then both may be a Drunkard's motives in extreme hazard.  
As for myself; I never felt a sorrow, which I esteemed a discontent, unless it gave no profitable use; either by making me more circumspect and provident; or acquainting me beforehand with my destiny. The most honourable dealing with our worst afflictions, is to confute them by a discourse of brain, and so exercise our knowledge, for our own advantage, against the foes of knowledge.  
But none among the worst crosses shall indeed predominate, if sometimes in a lawful humour we do cross ourselves.    

Two Books of Characters. The first Book.  

CHARACTER. I. An Impudent Censurer  
IS the torture-monger of wit, ready for execution before judgement. Nature hath dealt wisely with him in his outside; for it is a privilege against confutation, and will beget modesty in you to see him outface: He is so fronted with striving to discountenance knowledge, by the contempt of it, as you would think him borne to insolence, though indeed it be habitual and comes by negligence of his company, which rather seek to laugh and continue, then to reform his vanity. A chimney-sweeper may converse with him very safely, without the hazard of blushing; and so may any that will contemn his ignorance: buffets will convince him better than language or reason: That proves him ranke-bestiall, descended from the walking Ape; which on the Mountains seem careful Inhabitants, but at your approach, the formality of man only. The Land-theefe, and Sea-captain, be never less out of their way; but wiser commonly about their object: They spare to wound poor travelers, but he encounters any thing not worth eyesight. A wise man's mind governs his body, his mind is only restrained by a bodily fear: And if you hope to be released of what he dares, you must enforce him to what he dares not; and than you shall perceive him to be the comical braggart, or the jingling spur. Lay aside this medicine and he is incurable; for he is so ravished with his own folly, as he often commends what he misinterprets, and still dispraises (if he scorn the Author) because he cannot perceive. To commend therefore and discommend what he conceives not, is alike tolerable and equal. The wild Arabian comprehends him fully; for as the one, so the other, taketh tribute and exaction of all passengers, except acquaintance and familiars: if any thing makes him praiseworthy, this must, or nothing; because he seems (by this means) moral in friendship; and so in some kind virtuous: But his applause and detraction, are both odious, because abounding through his mere pleasure. When all Trades perish, he may turn Shop keeper, and deal with balance; For in weights and measures none is more deceitful. He ponders pithy volumes by the dram or scruple, but small errors by the pound. If he takes courage in his humour, he haunts the Authors company, recites the work, intends it to some third person, and after he hath damned the thing in question, he refers himself to the right owner; who, if he be there manifest, must conjure this devil quickly, or he will seem honest, and crave satisfaction: but call his life in question, and he betrays his guiltiness, which then accuses him of false dealing howsoever; yes, though he hath commented rightly; for he commends ignorantly, and discommends scandalously. For delighting in his humour, he makes his freehold an Inheritance: put it to the hazard, and he will compound for the title.   

CHARACT: II. A Complete Man  
IS an impregnable Tower: and the more batteries he hath undergone, the better able he is to continue immovable. The time & he are always friends: for he is troubled with no more than he can well employ; neither is that less, then will every way discharge his Office; So he neither surfeits with Idleness, nor action. calamities, & Court-preferments do alike move him, but cannot remove him: Both challenge from him a convenient use, no wild endeavour, either to swell or despair. His religion, learning, and behaviour, hold a particular correspondence: He commands the latter, whilst himself and both be commanded by the first. He holds it presumption to know, what should be looked, or thought upon with wonder; and therefore rather than he will exceed, he can be less than himself: accounting it more noble to imitate the fruitful bough which stoops under a precious burden; then applaud the tall eminence of a fruitless Birch-tree: knowing Humility is a fitter step to knowledge, than Presumption. He smiles upon Vice and Temptation first, seeming to allure it, till, without suspicion, he may soon disrobe and disarm it: For having laboured to know the strength of folly, he knows it to be his Captive. From hence proceeds his victory, in that he can prevent mischief, and scorn the advantage of baseness. His worthiness to be rewarded he may conceal: but his desire to do nobly, in a better kind, his actions will not suffer to be unknown; by which the world can judge he deserves, and save him from the scandal of a Cunning Hypocrite. If merits direct him in the way to honour, they do not leave him in the way to honour; but are his best attendants to accompany his whole preferment: For to deserve what he obtains, and to deserve no more, is sluggish; to deserve after a thing bestowed, is duly thankful; But a continued merit stops accusation. Whatsoever he borrows of the world, is by himself paid back with double interest: For what he observes, passeth through the forge of his wisdom, which refines it; and the file of his practice, which confirms it as a good pattern: So the interest exceeds the principal, and (which exceeds all) praiseth the usurer. The name of guilt (with him) is vanished under the charm of a good conscience: which with his eyesight save his taste a labour: for he knows what experience can teach, but is not taught by experience. He is faithfully his own friend: and accepts the friendship of others for his own sake; but imparts his own for others. When he loves, he loves first: from hence he challenges a double honour: for Love and Priority is a twofold merit. He lacks nothing to engender happiness; for he can spare nothing that he enjoys; he enjoys it so honestly: And that he hath already, serves to purchase new contentment. For as he lives, his capacity is enlarged, though before it were sufficient for his other faculties: they be most numerous when himself is nothing: for being dead, he is thought worthier than alive: then he departs to his advancement.   

CHARACTER. III. A good Husband  
IS the second part of a good man: he challenges no more nor less from Art or Nature, then doth become his faculty, and give comfort to his wife; so he doth not (by striving to please) seem low minded; nor by overvaluing his properties, prove a tyrant. His behaviour and discourse promise no more than he means, and may very well justify. He is not altogether to be chosen by the common weight, or standard; for his best parts be invisible. A good wife shall know him quickly to be worth her taking: for h●e inquires out her worthiness first. He is not therefore put to much trouble of being denied twice: for if he thinks he can prevail amiss, prevail too soon, or not prevail, because he is too good; he hath the modesty to refuse first: but otherwise, if opinion dares suspect, and so refuse him first, he may account it happiness, because he was refused so soon: having (by that means) escaped one who could not discern him. The honour of a good wife makes him no more unpractised in the patience of a bad, then if he conversed with her: so his virtues be habitual, not enforced. The misery of a bad wife likewise hath no more ●nraged him to discredit all, than the worthiness of a good one hath moved him to be an Idolater: So his blessing is, not to augment his curse, or curse his blessing. The highest end of his marriage premeditated, is to resolve how he may desire it without end. He feels not the absence of youth by a decay in lust; but measures the approach of a crooked body by his entire affection. He neither deceives himself with a foolish confidence, nor draws a disadvantage to himself, by being distrustful: for he may be acquainted with those, to whom he cannot safely commit his wealth, much less his wives honesty; but he never suspects, before he be past suspicion, and every thing be apparent. He hath (notwithstanding) no friend whom he dares make his deputy. He seeks rather to be well known, then commonly noted: for being known, he cannot be mistaken; but otherwise it is very doubtful. He hates not her, but hers; and that with a hope to make her detest herself, not be divorced from him: for he covets rather to be daily amending her, then make a new hazard, or want resolution. He may dislike therefore his wives humour, and love her in the same quantity. He cannot be chosen, because a better is absent: for he is himself, the precedent & the pattern. He cannot therefore be refused, if he be well known: For being good, he proves the best, and being so, the best Husband.   

CHARACTER. FOUR A Contented Man  
IS a fair building in the bottom of a Valley: you can discern nothing about him, unless you approach near, and nothing in him worth himself, unless you do proceed. There is no land like unto his own conscience: that makes him sow and reap together: for actions be (with him) no sooner thoughts, than they prove comforts, they be so full of Innocence. His life therefore is a continual harvest: his countenance and conversation promise hope; they both smile upon their object: neither doth the end fail his purpose: for his expectation was indifferent and equal, according to the means. Events therefore cannot oppress him; for he propounded all, before he undertook some; and saw the extremest point of danger, before he did embark. He meddles no further with uncertainties, than loss and lucre be alike in accident: for doubtful things of moment, make men stagger; whilst hope and fear distracts them. If probable and lawful means deceive him, they cannot trouble him: for he ascribes nothing to himself, that is above him. When Gods determinations do therefore disappoint; he neither marvels, nor misinterprets. Neglected fortunes, and things past, he leaves behind; they cannot keep pace with him. The necessity of things absent, he measures by his means: but as for things impossible, he could never begin to affect them. And in the quest of future projects, he never doth transgress the pesent comfort. He can with as much selfe-credit be a Captive, as a promoted Courtier. Dignities may do him honour, not entice him: poverty may threaten, and be peremptory, but cannot overcome. Riches may make his honesty more eminent, not more exquisite. He is so far from adding malice to any, that he can praise the merits of an enemy. Anger and Revenge be two turbulent passions: in him (therefore) the first shows only that he can apprehend: the last, that he can justly prevent further mischief. So he neither doth insult through anger; nor satisfy his bitterness by revenge. Repentance, which with some proves melancholy, with him proves a delightful assurance: for seldom doth he lament things merely vicious, so much as virtues imperfectly attempted. He undertakes every thing with more advantage, than any (but himself) can imitate: for being void of troublesome vexation, his willing mind makes the way less difficult. His policy and close dealing do not disturb his time of pleasure, or his quiet dreams: For he can awake with as much delight in day, and sleep with as much solace in the dark, as either his intimate purpose can awake to every man's applause; or be concealed to his own safety, and no man's detriment. He doth not readily incur another's rage; nor doth he rail against himself; for he cannot be before hand with quarrelsome engagements; nor rashly run into a manifest error. He doth not therefore (when all approve him) miscall himself, closely, damned Hypocrite, or lewd villain. He feels more felicity in this, that he can forbear to enjoy any thing, rather than let any thing enjoy him; or rather than he will enjoy any thing indirectly. He is not so selfe-subsisting that he scorns to borrow; so shameless, that he borrows all: nor so alone contented, that others do not partake in his freedom: or so absolute in freedom, that he becomes not more absolute by the use of others. He makes more ill meanings good, by good construction, more hapless events honest by a lawful confidence, and more dangerous undertakings easy, by a calm proceeding, than the contrary. For (whilst he knows jealousy as a fearful, eating, and distasteful vice) he cannot suspect without the cautions of why, whom, how, where and when. Briefly, being contented, he is content to be happy: and being so, he thrives best when he thinks best: he does more than he undoes. He wins more often than he saves: and, like the Caspian Sea, remains the same unchangeable.   

CHARACT. V. A good Emperor  
IS the second Saviour to Christianity, and a direct centre of his people's love: his greatness extends rather to posterity, then is confident of pedigree. He may be counseled or confirmed, but his election remains peculiar. His object therefore (to discern) may be infinite, or extravagant; but patterns (to imitate) must be supernal; for he acknowledges but one supremacy, and in that remembers a succession: which makes him leave man's precepts unto frailty, view honour as a thing mediate, himself immediately next to his Creator, and doth only know his high commission a determinable power, not know and murmur. He lacks nothing of divinity, but time in his prerogative, the want of which takes away eternity: so all the honour which relates to him for God's sake, conveighes itself to God for his own. His fear doth vanish into love or anger; for he may embrace or conquer, but cannot submit. His royal bounty is as well prompt to take with honour, as to give with liberty. And as he can deserve nothing because on him depends every thing: so is he not by any man to be deserved, because unto him every man owes his whole Inheritance. If therefore he doth give where subjects docondemne; or choose when multitudes abandon; he doth but manifest his free desires, and show affinity betwixt himself & holiness: which raises from the dunghill to the sceptre; and from the most obscure disdain of vulgar thoughts unto the state of happiness. Nay oftentimes this secret in public office, proves true; That men without the aid of birth, and glory of famous merit, lack only so good an entrance, but have commonly a better ending: or at least, strive more to attain what others presume upon. The event therefore makes his large prerogative true wisdom, which may be misinterpreted weakness. The Lion, a King of beasts, is recovered in sickness, by eating an Ape; and a good King by devouring flatterers.   

CHARAC. VI A worthy Poet  
IS the purest essence of a worthy Man: He is confident of nature in nothing but the form, and an ingenious fitness to conceive the matter. So he approves nature as the motive, not the foundation or structure of his worthiness. His works do every way pronounce both nourishment, delight, and admiration to the reader's soul: which makes him neither rough, effeminate, nor windy: for by a sweet contemperament of Tune and Ditty, he entices others to goodness; and shows himself perfect in the lesson. He never writes upon a full stomach, and an empty head; or a full head, and an empty stomach. For he cannot make so Divine a receptacle stoop to the sordid folly of gall or envy, without strength: or strength of brain stoop, and debase itself with hunting out the body's succour. He is not so impartial as to condemn every new fashion, or tax idle circumstance; nor so easy as to allow vices, and account them generous humours. So he neither seeks to enlarge his credit of bitterness, by a snarling severity; nor to augment his substance by insinuating courtship. He hath more debttors in knowledge among the present Writers, than Creditors among the ancient Poets. He is possessed with an innocent liberty, which excludes him from the slavish labour and means of setting a gloss upon frail commodities. Whatsoever therefore proceeds from him, proceeds without a meaning to supply the worth, when the work is ended; by the addition of preparative verses at the beginning; or the dispersed hire of acquaintance to extol things indifferent. He does not therefore passionately affect high patronage, or any further than he may give freely; and so receive back honest thanks. The dangerous name and the contempt of Poets, sprung from their multitude of corruptions, proves no disadvantage or terror to him: for such be his antidotes that he can walk untouched, even through the worst infection. He is no miserable self-lover, nor no unbounded prodigal: for he can communicate himself wisely to avoid dull reservedness, but not make every thought common, to maintain his market. It must be imputed to his perfect eyesight, that he can see error, and avoid it without the hazard of a new one: As in Poems, so in projects, by an easy conjecture. He cannot flatter, nor be flattered: If he gives Desert, he gives no more; and leaves Hyperbole in such a matter of importance: As for himself, he is so well known unto himself, that neither public fame, nor yet his own conceit, can make him overvalued in himself. He is an enemy to Atheists; for he is no Fatist nor Naturalist: he therefore excludes Luck and Rhyme, from the acceptance of his Poems; scorning to acknowledge the one as an efficient, the other as an essence, of his Muse's favour. He pays back all his imitation with interest; whilst his Authors (if revived) would confess their chief credit was to be such a pattern: otherwise (for the most part) he proves himself the pattern, and the project in hand: Silver only and sound metal comprehends his nature: rubbing, motion, and customary usage, makes the brightness of both more eminent. No marvel though he be Immortal, seeing he converts poison into nourishment; even the worst objects and societies to a worthy use. When he is lastly silent (for he cannot die) he finds a Monument prepared at others cost and remembrance, whilst his former actions be a living Epitaph.   

CHARACT. VII. An honest Lawyer  
IS a precious Diamond set in pure gold, or one truly honest, and a complete Lawyer: The one gives glory to the other; and being divided, they be less valuable. Divinity, and a corrected nature, make him habitual in the first; but studious labour, & a discursive brain make him equal, if not absolute, in the last: he knows Law to be the Mris of man, & yet he makes Honesty the Mris of Law. The first therefore may exceed the last; but the last never hath predominance in him, without the other. He is too divine to be tempted with fear, favour, Minerals, or Possessions; and too divine not to be tempted with perfect knowledge, & a pitiful complaint: he hath as much leisure to confer with conscience, in the most busy Term, as in the deadest Vacation: And he is always more diligent to maintain wronged poverty, then attentive to allow injurious Greatness: he can as freely refuse a prodigal, or enforced bounty, as he can accept or demand due recompense: He resorts to London with a more full brain, then empty bags, and (at his return) he purses up more full comfort, then yellow coin. He cannot be so confident as to persist in error; nor so ignorant as to err by weakness: When therefore (through an abundance) some knowledge is confounded; his error only proves a doubtful question; and serves to reduce scattered remnants into method. The multitude of contentions make not him rejoice in the number, but in the difficulty; that truth may appear manifest to our progeny. He rails not against the vices of his profession, but makes his profession commendable by his own practice of virtue: his Client's disease of being suspended touches him like his own sickness; he dares not give a dangerous purgation to dispatch him, nor by negligence and delay, let the evil grow inward and incorporate; to strengthen itself, or consume the patient. He is therefore exquisite in preservatives against the consumption; though perhaps he may fail in restoratives to support weakness. He may well be a precedent to the best Physicians; for he undertakes no cure when he perceives it inclining to be desperate: So he makes the cause, and not his Client, the object of his labour. If he hath favour enough to make truth be currant, he looks no further: which he needs not to patch business; nor would he willingly pursue it; if truth were not often discountenanced. He doth therefore at a judges death lament the death of his learning, not his own private lucre: He can ride the circuit, and scorn to be circular. He hath no leisure to protract time or save his Client's opinion with jests premeditated, or windy inferences: His modesty was never below his courage in a good cause; nor his courage inclining to impudence, though he were still honoured with a prosperous event. He owes so much worship to desert and innocence, that he can as faithfully applaud sufficient worth, as not insult over, or exclaim against dull ignorance. He is miraculously preserved against incantations: the strongest spell cannot charm him silent, nor the most tempting spirit provoke him to a vain pleading. He dares know, and profess in spite of potency; he dares be rich and honest in despite of custom: And if he doth not grow from a good man, to a reverend Title, he scorns to be a Traitor and blame tyranny; but he descends below his own unworthiness. Briefly, he is a precious vessel, he endures the rest, and the defiance of time: he is a sound commodity which never fails the Customer: and doth heartily confess that whosoever swerves from this pattern, swerves from honesty, though he be deeply learned: Howsoever, he thinks a Lawyer deeply learned cannot choose but be honest; except multitude of Clients oppress him.   

CHARACT. VIII. A Detractor  
IS his own private foe, and the world's professed enemy: He is indeed an obstinate heretic, and if you will convert him, you must anew create him likewise: he is of the Mahometan sect which hath despised all religious Arts, and Sciences, except the confusion of all; so he approves continually the worst things among many good, and condemns that which is judiciously commended: to read therefore and refuse, makes up the best part of his judgement. His five senses have a mortal combat with all objects, that afford sense, or any thing upon which they fasten: his eye could never yet behold a woman fair enough, or honest enough, on whom he might bestow the sincere part of his affection: but he marries one to beget an equal society of froward children: his ear was never well contented with a delicious tune, for the left is only open, and that only apt to conceive discords through a customary habit; which hath rejected all, and therefore will: For that he once hath, and is again minded to oppose worthiness, gives him both reason and encouragement to continue spiteful: but (to our comfort be it spoken) his envy ends commonly with himself, or at most, endeavours no otherwise then a nasty passenger, to rub against, and defile fair outsides, because himself is loathsome: he stops his nose if a perfume approach, but can well endure a stinking draft, or kennel, and embrace the savour: His palate hath no relish except he may discommend his diet, and yet he consumes all to the very fragments: he touches or takes up nothing which is not blasted by him with a natural defiance; or at least he will utter the manifest form of discontent. His tongue, the Herald of his imagination, is a busy officer, and will (without question) challenge the same reward of him, that it doth of women; for it dispatcheth the same service, and deserves therefore (proportionably alike) to be called the main property of each: he is not inferior also to a woman in malice; for she is that way limited, though undeterminable: but he transcends; accounting it his pomp to be infinitely licentious towards all. He rails against the Sat, and speaks treasons confidently to himself alone, expecting an event of his desires: Nay, sometimes he is taken (through the licence of his tongue, and a little sufferance of the company) in peremptory speeches that bring him to his answer: Neither will he hearken to reformation, till he lacks his cares: He is not (if a Churchman) ashamed to quarrel, first with his Patron, and openly disclaim against the poor value of his Benefice: If, a common humorist, he will diminish the worth likewise of a gift, before the givers face; and looks to the disconveniences, not the commodity, he receives by possession. A slight Arithmetician may cast up the total sum of his Character: & by substraction (being the body of his soul) may find him under the value of an honest man, above half in half: for he lacks Charity, and so comes short six degrees of a good Christian: and therefore is an egregious coward because he scorns to justify, except he rails against the dead; thither he hastens being unworthy to live longer.   

CHARACT. IX. An Humorist  
IS the shadow of Understanding, the traitor to Reason, or the vanity of a better man: Blood-letting, a good whip, honest company, or reasonable instructions might (at the first) recover him. But if he continues among laughing spirits one quarter, the disease will grow inward, and then the cure grows desperate. If his humour be hereditary, he is more familiar with it, and makes it the principal virtue of his family: If imitation breeds a habit, he makes it the pledge of sworn brotherhood, or at least the favour of new acquaintance: he never is infected single, or with one only; for either he is now admitted to the several orders; or he is prompt enough to subscribe generally when occasion peeps. You must not dare to discommend, or call in question, his behaviour seriously with his companions; for though you cannot call the humour lawful, it is sufficient if you can call it his humour. You may justly forbear to restrain him; for if he be truly adopted, he thinks it an especial part to be respectless. Tobacco is a good whetstone for his property; he doth seldom therefore forget to provoke his constitution this way: & (by being insatiate) he knows well his humour may escape the search of reason, by virtue of the mist. He hath from his cradle been swaddled up, with much obstinate and peremptory affectation: It being indeed commonly the character of his ripest age, to support that freely in his manhood, which was forbidden in the spark of his minority: he never slips opportunity with deliberation; he is therefore prompt enough to begin; and the reason of his act is enough, though only that he hath begun, because humour is the motive. There is nothing within the compass of thought so trivial, so absurd, and monstrous, which his vanity will not aver to be ponderous, decent, and natural. Neither will he abhor to justify them by his own practice, against all opposers. He travails up and down like Tom of Bedlam, under the title of mad Rascal, Witty Rogue, or Notable mad sla●e, and these attributes be a more effectual oratory to applaud his humour, than a direct commendation. He will not sometimes (upon small discontinuance) vouchsafe to acknowledge, or (at least) know, his familiar friends, without much impertinence and Interrogatories of their name, or habitation; whilst another time, he dares adventure his knowledge, & salutations upon mere aliens. He is very much distracted, and yet I wonder how the frenzy should be dangerous; for he never breaks his brain about the study of reason or invention: seeing his humour is the privilege of both: It is therefore sufficient for him to be extreme melancholy, & be most ignorant of the cause or object; and suddenly to be unmeasurably frolic without provocation: whilst he is only beholding to a brainless temperature in discharge of his credit. He will converse freely with Servingmen & Soldiers within 12. hours; & presently when the ague hath once seized him, he proves tyrannical and insolent towards the silly vermin. He never broke a vow in his whole life, or broke vows continually: for either they have not suited with his variety, to be intended, or he hath intended to observe them no longer then might agree with his body, which ebbs and flows. When he grows old, and past voice, he learns foreign languages: as if, when he had dined, he should devour the sauce. In a word, he is a chief commander of actions, but no commander of himself; being in his best bravery but a Turkish Slave, ever subject to desire and appetite: according to their pattern, he is himself to himself praiseworthy, or elegant; but to worthiness itself, odious.   

CHARAC. X. A. Coxcomb  
IS a needless Ornament: He takes the upper hand of a fool, and of a wise man also; and in opinion is as good as a Courtier. His education hath been (from a child) tenderly fearful; and the mother remains still afraid of his fortunes, lest his politic wisdom should hazard them too far: whilst his fortunes hazard his wisdom. He hath been always a young Master, and yoked his ears first to insinuation, under some oylie-tonged servant, or flattering Tutor. To know he hath rich kindred, and to derive a pedigree; satisfy his valour, learning, proficience in estate or credit with mere contemplation. So much indeed doth he hang upon the pillars of his gentry. As it shall therefore be the first preparative of his acquaintance to salute, and ask What countryman your Father is, of what house: or he will inquire his demesnes only (of some neighbour:) and if your body be handsome, your clothes proportionable, your parents wealthy; he hath purchased an everlasting friend. A round oath is valour enough, a foolish Ditty Art enough, and good fellowship honesty enough. The truth is, he scorns to be a searcher, and thinks it enough for his Tailor to meddle with linings. But in the circumstance of making your clothes, the price of your Beaver and silk stockings, your purpose to travail, or of your long absence; The Spanish Inquisition cannot be so unmerciful. He is contented richly, nay absolutely, to be taken only for a harmless man. The generosity and noble carriage of his discourse, is to run desperately into the name of some courageous gallant Knight, or some Baron in favour: if their alliance to his family can be detected, he gives way with an apparent relish. He is very well fitted for all societies, if his outside be suitable; further than which he never conversed with himself effectually. Nor can I wonder, though he pays dearly, and preserves clothes deliciously; seeing those alone are the maintenance of his whole worth; and therefore you shall perceive him more furiously engaged about the rending of his doublet, or a little lace, than a magnanimous box, or a bastinado. He is ambitiously given to be promoted, either by some embassage to divulge his pedigree, and learn fashions, or by entertainment of some chief Noble men to discover his bounty; and (withal) his stipendious affection. He shifts his familiars by the survey of prospect, and the externals; but his directions proceed from the proverb of like to like, rather than Physiognomy. He is credulous and confident: the less certainty he hath of a report, the more public he is, and peremptory. He commits the best part of his understanding to a talkative Barber: with whom he is the more frequent; because he thinks, to have a curl pate, is to have a visible wit. He would be Physical, and justly; for not to preserve his folly in health, were to deceive the world of his pattern: but being merry for digestion, his laughter is exorbitant, causeless, endless, and like himself. His safest course will be to marry: nothing makes him so sensible as a wise, good or bad; till then, the further he flies from his Character, he becomes it the more naturally. ***   

CHARAC. XI. A Rank observer  
IS his own Comedy, and his own Audience: for whatsoever he frames by experience, he applauds by custom: but being out of his element, he is an Eel in a sandbag; for he, wanting the humour of his wrested observance, falls away into ignorant silence. He is arrogant in his knowledge so far, as he (thinks) to study men, will excuse him from the labour of reading, and yet furnish him with absolute rarities, fit for all fashions, all discourses. He is a very promiscuous fellow; and from thence proceeds the vice which makes him without difference, comprehend ponderous and trivial passages under the same degree of value or estimation. For whatsoever becomes his politic vent, becomes his understanding. When he doth therefore fill up the vessel of his conceits, he hath regard to such things as may be uttered with most advantage, either of money among the players, or reputation among the general gallants of our City. He takes account of all humours, and through the practice of a contempt to all, he partakes in all: for he uses what he derides, under the privilege of scorn, and so makes it familiar. So the largest benefit which others reap by contemning the vice in himself, arises beyond his purpose or intention: for he extends to others no further than agrees with his own greedy constitution, meaning to credit, or enrich himself; not amend others: by which means all his goodness is accidental. He doth (notwithstanding) in some points resemble virtue; but in the worst manner. For being impartial, he plays the tyrant; and sells the vices of his dearest friends to discovery, by plays or pamphlets, but is content that they should still reserve them to their future infamy: So he becomes sooner excluded oftentimes from society, than his flattering shifts can readily repair. Flattery and insinuation be indeed the number of his thriving moral virtues, through which (under a pretence of fair meaning) he takes occasion to betray the marrow of man's variety: and this affords fuel for his bitter derision. His Table-books be a chief adjunct, and the most significant Emblem of his own quality, that man may bear about him: for the wiping out of old notes give way to new: and he likewise, to try a new disposition, will finally forsake an ancient friends love; because he consists of new enterprises. His capacity is apprehensive in a strange measure: if he were less capable, he might be more commended. For he incroaches often upon admittance (where things be well delivered) to multiply his observation: and yet he will verify the thing, as if it were now committed. If he converts to a deserving quality, he will propound the credit of a good meaning no stipend for his vain discoveries. Till then, he must entreat to be suspected, or odious, whilst he whispers closely among free companions: Neither must he hope to amend the Age, or himself; because he never intended the first; and the last he forgets (though he intended it) through vain glory; as being transported with his pride only, that he hath observed, and can observe again. Briefly, he resembles a foolish patient, who takes a costive pill to loosen his body: for whilst he means to purge himself by observing other humours, he practices them by a shadow of mockage, and so becomes a more fast corruption: if he doth not therefore feel the disease, he dies hidebound. (***)   

CHARACT: XII. A Parish Politician  
IS Machiavels' apparel Puppy; taken from school before he hath learned true Latin; and therefore in trivial things only, he partakes with the Sire; because he lacks true breeding, and true bringing up. He labours commonly for opinion where he is so well known, that opinion would persecute him, without labour: he thinks religion deceives most unsuspected; and therefore he seems to be a zealous Christian. The Church is a principal part of his devotion; and to be a frequent Auditor, or outwardly attentive, is a sure defence (he thinks) against capital error. He is openly kindhearted; cries God forbid, Amen, Christ be his comfort. But rather than he will seem a Puritan, with indifferent companions, he can break an obscene jest, be wanton, sociable, or any thing, till he converse with a Precisian by whom he hopes to save: then the eyes roll upward, the hands be elevated, commiserating terms be multiplied, with sighs innumerable: then he rails against the wicked, whom a little before he heartily saluted. And after some paraphrase upon the verse of such an Evangelist, Apostle, or Prophet, he dismisses the Puritan, that himself may laugh in a corner. His mind and memory put on the same vizard of greatness, which makes him so much incline to the posture of weighty labours, that he gives no attention to things openly recited, though they actually possess him. To be employed therefore for a Noble man, is (to him) an infinite trouble, and begets employment with all acquaintance to discover it: so the bare means to make men think he is much entertained, costs a time equal to his occurrents. Being to be visited (though by sure Clients) he hath the room of attendance, the Art of delay, and a visage that seems pitifully interrupted. If he rides to dispatch, the horses be early saddled, and brought to the door, that neighbours may observe; when, after five or six hours expectation, he comes like one that was detained by urgent importunacies. His best materials to work upon, be Time, and Place; which, if they afford circumstance to let you understand his new purchase, his new buildings, the great marriage of his children, or entertainment of high personages, or bounty towards the Hospital, it comes freely and fitly, if openly. When occasions trouble him a little, he loves to trouble himself extremely; and thinks it a point of ●eaching policy, to reprove or amend that formally, which hath been allowed by singular good iugdements. If he dares (with privilege of the hearers ignorance) disparaged worth in any, he takes leave of the occasion, and his own policy. This he takes in honour of his courtship to show he can be ambitious, and build on others ruins: But this proclaims him a starved Cannibal; who, through the famine of desert, feeds his worthiness with his own excrement of detraction. His desire and audacity be at open strife. When he would, but dares not commend himself, by correcting another's faculty: then with a strained laughter, and a willing palsy in his head, he seems to discover somewhat is unsettled; or he makes his elbow signify, that something wants his finger. His compliments be at liberty, his friendship lies locked up in prison; the key whereof he hath lost willingly. For if you call him friend before he hath wrested the advantage of an enemy, he leaves you destitute, but more happy than you believe. If he can seem to forget your countenance, he intends that you must think him devoted to things above you, or that his brain labours: and upon this ground he walks when he neglects your salutations, or takes no notice of your person. Briefly, he is a man of this days profit; he expects nothing without double interest, and that by compulsion. He is a weak foe, a weaker friend, or the general shadow of a wiser man.   

CHARAC. XIII. A Spendthrift  
IS a man ever needy, never satisfied, but ready to borrow more than he may be trust-à with: The question of him will be, whether his learning doth outbalance his brain, and so becomes a burden; or whether both be crept into his outward senses: Certainly his Intellectuals of wit, and wisdom, be manifest, but are (like the seven Stars) seldom seen together; they mutually succeed, as having vowed to govern by course: whilst wit reigns, excess, and riot have the upper hand: But when he recollects himself, he is wholly metamorphosed; wit gives place, and his extreme of wisdom, disclaims the smile of a merry countenance. His only joy is to domineer, be often saluted, and have many Creditors: his Lordship's lie among the Drawers, Tobacco-men, Brokers, and Panders: But adversity makes him leave company, and fall to housekeeping, and then his servants be vanished into Sergeants. His only flatterers be Conceit and Fancy, which charge Memory his Steward, to bring in no Accounts till they be cashiered; which cannot be whilst Imitation is his Captain, or Credit his Corporal. He dreams of being Lord chief justice, or at least being eminent, though he lives dissolutely; and hath no Saint but Fortune. He is, and ever will be a quarter behind with frugality; in which volume he cannot be perfect, because the book is imperfect: for he still rends out the beginning of his lesson. His Heaven upon Forth, is a fair Mistress; and though his means be l●rge, yet his principal sorrow is the lack of maintenance. The misery of his sense is an old man, and his father's life troubles him not a little: Almanacs therefore which foretell the death of age, be very acceptable. The hurly burly of his brain is infinite, and he scarcely knows what he may freely make an election of. His worst bawd is too good a nature, which makes him incident to false applauses, and carve his soul out among his familiars: he hath multitudes of dear acquaintance, but his dearest friends are ready to stab him. For either those whom he accounts so, be men of fashion; or those who be indeed so, desire his death, because they see no amendment. He scorns to acknowledge his debts, but as things of duty, with which mechanics are (as he thinks) bound to uphold high birth and Gentry: but the end proves otherwise. His downfall therefore is not admired, because he was ever falling; and his bare excuse, makes experience the shadow. Briefly, he may seem a treacherous friend; for he deals dishonestly with all that challenge interest in him; they be his Creditors: And yet he deals more lovingly with them, then with himself; for when he pays them, he punisheth himself: If he cannot pay, he is punished more than they; and punished enough, because he cannot pay: for than he consumes.   

CHARACT. XIIII. A Ubiquitary  
IS a journeyman of all Trades, but no saver because no s●tter up: He would be an Epitome of Arts, and all things, but is indeed nothing less than himself: If an itchy Tailor gave him not his making, he had (I think) perpetually been unmade: For if he scratch his head, the body calls him; if the body, than the elbow; if his elbow, than again the body; if the body, than the head itches: so never quiet, never constant, still doing, still about to do the same, remains my doer doing nothing. The worst of dog-days was his birthday when fleas abounded, which (from his cradle) have so bitten him, as till his death he must be tickled. The worm of giddiness hath crept into his private purposes: every hour, almost, gives him a new Being, or, at least, the purpose to be an other thing than he is. If a country l●fe invites him he yields: the Court request him, he yields likewise: but then disgrace averts him to his study; a Library is gotten: by this time love hath struck him, and he adores the Saint: But then some play declaims against this love; he quickly is persuaded, and follows Poetry. Thus my vagabond of vanity is from post to pillar transports, because he travels without a perfect licence. You shall soon discern him by his arguments and reasons; They (for the principals) flow from one fountain of ignorance: for all his proof depends upon I think so; Every man saith so: All dislike it: His very conversation is infectious, but never frustrate: for either you must follow him, and that way you must look to be a loser: or he will follow you, and then resolve that your intention thrives but badly. No object, no society, season, thought, or language, comes amiss, or unexpected, his policy therefore seeks to be rather frequent then effectual; to run about the world daily, then travel seriously; to see a multitude, before society; and guess at much, rather than know a little. In his discourse he dances All Trades; and flies from field to thicket, as being hunted by an Ignis fatuus. Talk of Academies, and he tells you Court-news; canvas the state of your question, and he tells you what new book is extant. If you discourse, he still desires the conclusion; and is attentive rather to the sequel, then careful to understand the premises. In his behaviour he would seem French, Italian, Spanish, or any thing, so he may seem un-vulgar; accounting it barbarous not to contemn his own Nation, or the common good; because he loves to be more valued by seeming singularly precious: His habit only discovers him to be true English: and to be weary of the place, colours his employment: To liiie (with him) is all vanity, and that life alone his dearest happiness: his death therefore may be somewhat doubtful, because with it he hath no Being.   

CHARAC. XV. A Gamester  
IS Fortune's Vassal, temptations anvil, or an outlandish text which may soon be translated into cheaters English: He affects gaming from a schoolboy; and superstitiously forethinkes how his mind gives him. The elements of fire, earth, and air, be with him alike predominant; he i● in●●●med with rage, melancholy with thoughts, jovial with fortune; but he never we●●●● in sorrow or repentance: When he loses little, you must ●now he loses much, for he loves tha● any man should conjecture he is able: And though his luck be infinite to win abundance, yet could he never have the luck to purchase. If he quarrel● you may protest he loses, ●nd he must scramble or be bea●e●●re he can be quiet: if he make peace you must meet him ●n the winning way, and then you might more safely swagger with him: he loves his own advantage well enough to be a Lawyer, but would make a most preposterous judge: The seven deadly sins sleep in his pocket, and he never draws money but the noise awakes them. Pride, Lechery, Drunkenness, and Gluttony, be his Sabbath sins, which (out of gettings) he employs on Festivals, and Sundays. Blasphemy and murder play the Drawers with him, and bring the fearful reckoning of his losses; and instead of Usury, Theft plays the Scrivener to furnish him with money: He can both fast, and watch, and yet is far enough from being a true penitent; for curses following, do discover why the rest was intended. Fortune makes him her most silly Statesman: she holds him by the chin a while, but ere he can recover what he only wishes, he sinks incontinent, and worthily; for loss and gain alike encourage him, but never satisfy. If he plays upon Ticket, he knows you are but a simple fellow not able to exact, though he resolves to pay nothing; so he did never purchase, if not this way, except he borrows; and that extends far enough to make him the debtor at his own pleasure. If he be perished, his restoration is to famine, though not degenerate; for seeing he was ruined under the Goddess Fortune, he may well claim the portion of a rich widow. If neither she, nor any shee-creature else be gracious; let him unpitied prove a Cheater, for he thrust himself to exile, and went to willing bondage.   

CHARACT. XVI. A Novice  
IS one still ready to ask the way, yet far from finding it, though you do direct him: He is indeed a simple thing of one and twenty, that dares safely be a pupil to any Tutor. Or take him naturally for a familiar kind of Spaniel, that may be readily taken up, and stolen away from himself, or his best resolutions. He is ever haunted with a blushing weakness, and is as willing to embrace any, as not to be distasteful unto any: He trusts any man's opinion before his own, and will commit his life to him that can insinuate; you get acquaintance with him by a bare salutation; drink to him with a new complement, and you have purchased his entire love, till he be cheated. The name of Countryman, or civil carriage, unlocks his Cabinet of intentions, till you extract the very quintessence. He cannot choose but be exceeding credulous, for he confutes nothing further than his eyesight, or common sense extends. Draw him to the paradise of taking all in good part; or teach him to apprehend the worst things well, by screwing in a mere conceit of your generosity, and he wilthrust the ward-ship of his credit, Lands, or Body, to your patronage: So you may take relief, and tender Marriage, though his father held not in Knight's service. If you misdoubt he should perceive you, or if you think it difficult to deceive him; compare his Title with his Index, o● both together with his stuff contained, and you may soon discern him: For either unexpectedly he doth betray himself; or false fire doth discharge him. Being a little bolstered up with sweet heresies of subtle language, and Musical Taverns, he suddenly begins (except some charitable hand reclaims him) to mistake Tobacco for a precious herb; and oftentimes I think it cures his raw humour, by operation of the price, without the Physic. You may easily also drive him to mistake brown paper for Littleton's Tenors; Canvas, and Red Herrings, for his father's hoppe-bagges and Lent provision. I need not say he will be valorous; for Parasites and Coney-catches know, he oftentimes can see he hath been cheated, and yet his modesty will not suffer him to enforce satisfaction. He will much wonder at a trivial event, and thinks it Witchcraft to foresee disadvantage. As for the world, Religion, or natural causes, he can inquire of them, but difficultly believe reason: In the shutting up therefore of his folly he doth confess the character, and leaves it to succession.   

CHARAC. XVII. An Epicure  
IS the picture of Somebody, or a man of two senses: the Eye and the Palate: for his smelling property is stuffed with the vapours of a full stomach; his hands the instruments of his mouth, no senses; and the belly hath no cares, but a truss to support it: He is his own Tailor, and thinks directly that more expenses belong to the linings, then to the outside. He cannot stir in business without a Coach, or a Litter; and then he is suddenly interrupted, if the clock strikes Eleven. He is (whatsoever some think) a good Physician for his own body; for he still riseth from the Table with an appetite, and is soon re●dy for another meal of dainties. If he be a Lawyer, the b●●t meats will soon corrupt his carcase, and his conscience: for he feeds immoderately, and will do much for ● brace of Pheasants. If he be a Divine, he preaches all charity, and discommends Gentlemen extremely, because they leave housekeeping. He thinks his bed the best study, and therefore speaks well in the praise of stretching meditations. He accounts Cookery a delicate science, and prefers the knowledge of confectionary receipts; to which purpose nothing passes through the throat, till he takes particular notice of the ingredients. He is troubled much to think, how he may most readily shorten his life, and not perceive the reason: Therefore he revolves continually, what may be most convenient for the taste, and hurtful for the stomach. He invites himself to much provender by accident of visitation; though he comes with a resolved policy: and he provokes many solemn meetings, under the title of Hospitality, when he makes himself (by these means) fitter for an Hospital. He is contented to bestow broken meat among poor folks, but no money: for he loves not to depart with that, in which himself hath been no taster. He is the noted foe of famine, and yet he is daily employed about the procreation of a dearth: for the value of nothing is beyond his ability, if he hath present money, though no more then enough to discharge the present commodity; or credit to make men trust upon executors. He hath heightened the price of out-landish-fruits, and hath purchased the general name to our Country of Sweet-mouthed Englishmen. Marrow-pies, Potato-rootes, Eringoes, and a cup of Sack be his chiefest Restoratives, and comfortable Physic: He makes no dinner without a second course. He is overruled more by his teeth, than his appetite: for when they grow weary, he leaves feeding, and falls to drinking: which argues (unless I mistake) a larger capacity of Stomach than Understanding. He keeps a principal point of stateliness in carriage; for he delights rather in a subtle flatterer, or secretary, that gives good el-bow attendance, then to hear himself discourse, or any who neglects to feed his humour; either with commendations, or voiling reverence to his high fortunes, or with licentious fables, and derisions of his opposites. If dinner be ended, and you desire to converse with him, you must tarry till he be awake: for his vast chair, a downy couch, and chiefly a fine capable seat in the Church, that may confront the Preacher, or be situate behind some pillar, are three easy and common receptacles for his full stomach. None resembles death so fitly, yet none makes less moral: His sleep therefore which proves him rotten and stinking alive, proves rather death itself, than a remembrance. Briefly, being true English, he will abhor thirst, and hunger, because he scorns a Spaniard and his properties.   

CHARACT. XVIII. A Churl  
IS the superfluity of solemn behaviour: And was intended for an allay to fif●y light loviall constitutions; but 
* na●●r ●●ntendit op●●mum.  Nature being then otherwise employed, he was (against her will) made a monstrous lump of Humanity; through the negligence of her handmaids, or the malice of her enemies bad education and nutriment. He is the unsociable son of Saturn, that looks strangely at the face of man, as if he were another thing than himself. He thinks, to be familiar is to betray himself; and that the world might plentifully be inhabited, by him only, and a couple of drudges. If you be civil, he saith you are fantastic; and friendly language he terms flattery. No estate, no advancement, can remove his humour: for he doth not live (whilst he lives not discontented) but sleeps, or counterfeits. He thinks salutations were ordained to beguile, or betray; he loves not therefore to salute, or be saluted. He will refuse gifts, that come from reconciled foes, and thinks an injury can never be forgotten. On equal terms likewise, he is heartily unwilling to receive, except (in glory) he can overvalue his deserts, by thinking he hath deserved ten times more. A selfe-respect, and a disdain of others, be his nourishing vices: So he chooses rather to lose a bargain, then to become a debtor; for he holds it more honour and policy to steal, then to be beholding. If you inquire his health, or the times news, he dares protest you are an impertinent, or a shallow companion. Other men's triumph is his sorrow, other men's sorrow his triumph: for in his conscience he hath rejoiced never, if not in misfortunes of some, or all. His own adversity quickens him to rejoice at others misery. He cannot therefore be saved, seeing he admits company as a delight, in nothing but desolation: and then, not their company, but their passion. His entertainments be, a fierce dog to bid you welcome, a currish voice to confirm it, and the way is open for a farewell. The two first be apparent, the latter he intends: So doth he embrace acquaintance or neighbours; but impotent people he threatens in another kind with Whip, stocks, and Beadle, they only be his familiars and defenders. His Dog, and he, are the only good fellows; and his dog proves the better man, by being more tractable. He will prevent you in a commodity, and give more; as also, he dares discredit any thing, or any, not with a meaning to commend his own, but to endamage others. He will be shaved all ways to the best help of a deformity: and though his actions will soon verify the Character, yet he will more mis-shape nature by ill-favoured Linen, a greasy felt, and Garments made for the purpose; as if he meant to discover himself by the forehead, lest he should not be known quickly. He is satisfied upon the smallest wrong, and will rather take the laws assignment, though a trifle, then be content with large composition: yet none doth more grumble against the Law-professors. He listens to the death of great personages, as a Butcher's dog to the Ox's slaughter; rejoicing to be glutted with his entrails, or vices, seeing he is not bettered by his body of worth, the best food. It fattens him to hear a prodigals consumption, though he partakes nothing in the footie. If you fasten a gift upon him, his thanks be liberal, though he doth not requite: if he doth not brand you with an insinuating Title; yet in extremity of his passion he is so far (as he thinks) from being uncharitable, as he makes the charity of Counsel, Purse, or Assistance, things that would give little thank for his labour: and so he practices them under the rank of such things as do not concern him: He saith therefore, Meddle with me, when I meddle with you. So that if shame provokes his wealth to invite strangers, he hath no bountiful meaning, but a resolution to live by broken meat long after, which doth not savour well, except it be mouldy: that, and himself therefore, should be spent sooner; otherwise they grow visibly odious, but himself more odious than that.   

CHARAC. XIX. An Atheist  
IS no reasonable Man: for he will sooner embrace a superficial colour in things of moment, then search into direct causes: as for obvious and common accidents, he never looks upon them so much with reason, as upon matters of course. In subtleties he is bestial; for he admits no more than event; and he is therefore no reasonable man, because no religious man. For Heathens and Barbarians have from the beginning been worshippers of somewhat. If thou canst seem to be familiar with him, and enter into the extremities of ill fortune, or begin to speak of great men's funerals, or honest men's persecutions, he will instantly discover what he believes, being bold enough to speak plainly (if thou canst apprehend) that virtue, innocence, and crafty dealing be alike rewarded: that wicked and religious men have no difference but the Name: that wrongs may lawfully (if without danger apparent) be repelled with worse wrongs: and that therefore it argues baseness of spirit, to contemn any opportunity of advantage: that expectation of other, where joy is already present, were dotage, or madness; and that honesty, which exceeds common form, is singularity. From which Arguments you may draw the conclusion. If he reserves these precepts among strangers, his practice will verify the pattern. Take this for a foundation, Every Atheist is an Epicure, though the one is not controvettible. If he inclines more to Epicurism then policy; this watchword will be frequent in his cups, hoc est vivere, hoc est vivere. But you may still observe, that he contends to wash away all care with company, discourse & laughter, as if he knew his usurious creditor (a guilty conscience) waited to expostulate with him at an advantage. One therefore of this proportion, is more liable to the Law, but less dangerous to the commonwealth. He brings most villainy that feels the disease inward; and confutes his own objections with fallacious doctrines. He lives much about the fountain of Iniquity, and therefore he must propound that those streams of custom be tolerable, or leave his profession. He hath a natural flourish for supernatural accidents. He turns Divinity into colourable inventions of Philosophy. He knows every thing under the name of a natural body: he believes Nature to be an invisible power, which intended generation for corruption, and corruption for generation. He distinguishes bodies into simple and compound, and makes creation a vulgar project obedient to the harmony of elements. Then, if he knows the meaning of Homogenea, and Hetrogenea, of corpus imperfctè mixtum, and perfectè mixtum, he remains largely satisfied. As for the causes of terrible events, he apprehends the power of Exhalations, Meteors, Comets, & the Antiperistasis: which very names are able to forbid all further inquisition. He goes not therefore beyond himself for his authority: and he esteems it more convenient to think there is a reason in nature, then to trouble his brain with miracles, when they exceed his positions. He never was taken for a friend in society, neither can he bestow love, because cause he cannot adventure his person. If at any time he intended love, he intended likewise a Physician; and him, no further then agreed with his own humidum radical: which must also be understood, if himself were no Physician. He is always confident beyond reformation. He dies with hope between his jaws, and therefore one may think him no desperate slave; but such hope deceives him, because he hopes to live longer.   

CHARACT. XX. A Liar  
IS a tame Fox; hunted up and down, often for pleasure, often against his will. Arithmetic is in him a natural vice, or at least the principal parts of the Science: for he can both subtract & multiply with more ease than speak true English: He may as well be a Tradesman of any sort by his profession, ●s a Knight of the post, or a man-pleaser. He should (by his qualities) be a good Gamester; for the one is just in league with a voluntary ignorance, or any enforced knowledge, as much as the other: He never offends this way, but he offends double; for he cannot with credit, or knowledge of the Art Military, think it sufficient to defend with bare affirmance, & the walls of circumvention, except his cannonothes be ready planted and discharged. He is not guilty of his own vice alone; for seldom doth he avouch it, which his confederate will not justify: & therefore he provides adherents for security: his common misery is well known, it persecuts him with divine justice for all his truth'is extraordinary, win no belief; because no falsehoods are so frequent. Any advantage accrueing to himself provokes his faculty; though sometimes a friends love entices him to strange adventures. If neither the first nor second be opportune, he so labours only to beget wonderful narrations. He is ready enough to overvalue himself, his friends, and his commodity: accounting it a politic strain to set an excellent fair gloss on all; that he may purchase the reputation of a large estate: Which seems to argue an innocent upright course, not fearing tyranny: But indeed he doth (from hence) deceive the world and die a beggar, through the foregoing estimation. He tells no wonder, without some preparative: as namely, he admits before hand what may be: or he begins thus: You may think it is a lie: or, it will seem strange, but I protest before God, it is very true: or the like: But if he be one that maintains Ordinaries and public meetings; he speaks altogether upon credible report; and you shall be the third man partakes of the novelty: for he hath always talked with one, that was an eye-witness: if he were not himself the agent or beholder. He may at his electition be admitted into the College of Jesuits, but he loves not to forsake his Country, though he boasts of travails; and yet he is a mere fugitive. He was originally intended for a Rhetorician; and lacks only a little instruction: For he is more conversant with Tropes than Figures; and yet the figure of repetition, is his own natural. Attention makes thee very much culpable in his reports: belief makes thee apt to err in the same kind. He is more confident (if he could be uncased) in the rare exploits of Rosaclere, and Delphoebo, Amadis de Gaul, or Parismus, than the most holy Text of Scripture. If he should strive for Antiquity, no English Generation can compare with him: And yet he needs no Herald, for he derives his Pedigree immediately from the devil.   

CHARACT: XXI. A Drunkard  
IS in Opinion a good fellow, in practice a living conduit. He is at all points armed for a Knight errant, and called upon for adventures, every way as full of hazard. This makes him enter boldly into the Lions, or the Green Dragon's Cave; into the White Bears jaws, the Mermaids closerts, the suns Palace; nay, more into the devils chamber of presence. And for his Travails let the Globe witness; through every corner of which, he hath or can walk at his pleasure. Freedom he challenges, and therefore scorns to be a tedious customer, till by enforcement, he drinks upon record: otherwise he shifts his watering place; either to avoid his louse, the Bailiff; or to renew his fountain: the last only pleads for his commendation, because he proceeds still from worse to better: which discommends him most, because it nourishes his faculty. The torment of his eyesight is a frothy Tapster, or a sluggish Drawer with a deceitful po●. The plagues of his palate be good wines, where he cannot purchase, nor be trusted: or a Tavern well furnished, that joins to the prison door: they vex him, as a feast vexes the famished, in a strong Castle: or a Lamb the starved Fox, when Mastiffs be awake. He never disallows religion for putting Lent in the Almanac: for Tobacco, a Rasher, and red Herrings, his instruments of relish, be at all times perhibited. He hath a cheap course of breakfasts, to avoid dinners; which at his pleasure he can spare, through morning Antidotes: the inquisition of these he studies, and loses by the knowledge. He indifferently concludes, and begins quarrels: that quality neither much blames nor praises him. Opportunity he embraces, but in a bad sense: for he is rather studious to follow any man's calling then his own. His nose the most innocent, bears the corruption of his other senses folly; From it may be gathered the emblem of one falsely scandald: for it not offending, is colourably punished. It serves therefore for nothing but such an Emblem, except to prove the owners great innocence, by how much it is the greater: His eminent seeming virtues be his peculiar vices: For his casting up expenses, and his wisdom over the pot, be his unthriftiness, and folly: He were utterly base, if unable to defend his habit: you shall therefore know him by his arguments. If he inclines to Scholarship, they be these: First, to abandon melancholy; For care, he faith, kills a Cat: then to avoid mischievous thoughts; for he that drinks well, sleeps well, and he that sleeps well thinks no harm: The weakness of which may be soon confuted, because he staggers in the argument. His teeth be strongest, because least employed. Hence you ●ay take the emblem of one truly miserable; who abounds in profits, which he doth not use. A beggar, and he are both of one stock, but the beggar claims antiquity: the beggar did drink that he might beg, & hath his meaning: the other drinks that he may beg, & shall have the true meaning shortly. In the degree of beggars it is thought he will turn Dummerer; he practices already, & is for that purpose many times taken speechless. If he goes out in the morning a libertine or freeman, he returns at night a prisoner, if he doth return: for he cannot return safely without his keeper: otherwise, he converts suddenly from flesh to fish, & dives into the mud, or swims in his own water. These together prove fasting-nights to be his natural season. Whilst he is waking, he purges all secrets; lest I therefore by keeping him awake longer, should err in the same kind, I have now cast him into a dead sleep.   

CHARAC. XXII. A Begging Scholar  
IS an Artificial vagabond: He took his first degree (as we may imagine) in the University: But he never thinks himself a full Graduate; till by Cosmographical science, he survey the degrees of Longitude, and Latitude, belonging to most of our famous Cities in England: So he becomes practitioner in the Mathematics, though he pretends Divinity by order of Commencement, which might be a safe licence among divers; if the Statute vouchsafed not to take notice of his roguery. He hath from the first hour of his Matriculation inherited the name of Shark, by way of a general dependence in the College: But being perhaps expulsed, or departing in a hungry humour, he travels with a prompt memory, instead of other knowledge; and above all things he is wise enough for himself, to remember his wants. He never looked into Divinity beyond the meaning of two Sermons; and upon those he hath insisted so often, that he feels no need of another Library: He still pretends (like some single Physician) the cure of one disease, that is, the cold of charity, and therefore (his charitable advise being ended) a bill of receipt follows for the ingredients: But the disease may be thought to grow more desperate through the mistaken cure; because the medicine is applied unfitly. His help extends far and near to fugitive Raga-muffians, under the sign of impotent soldiers, or wandering Abraham-men; but his help proves the maintenance of their function, because it proves his own, by occasion: For being received as a Secretary to the counsel of vagrants, he conceals much idle property, in advantage of himself and Countrymen, not of the commonwealth. If you would privately know him; you must know likewise, the journey to his friends hath been tediously undertaken; and whilst he brings his money in question, you must know he begs for an answer, and so betrays the doubt of sufficiency: howsoever (in public) he insinuates a deprivation; by being too sufficient. Being admitted (for Hospitality sake) to receive lodging; he hath a slight of hand, or cleanly conveyance, which threaten silver spoons; and leaves a desperate sorrow among all the household servants, because he departed so soon. In the space of a natural day he seldom travails further than to the next Alehouse; that so by degrees he may approach to a great Market upon the Sabbath. He pays for what he takes continually, one way or other: for being no customer, he cannot be trusted, except in case of necessity; and then he pays them experience to beware of such as he another time. He hath learning to propound the Apostles precedent for travails, but conscience little enough to look any further. If his family be not portable, it comes in the rearward, and awaits his return to the Rendezvous: if otherwise he be attended with neither wife, nor maidservant; he makes use of both, as he finds himself able: He is sometime inducted by a simple Patron, to some more simple Vicarage; But his Tithes and Credit concluding in Harvest, he takes his slight with the Swallow: He cannot therefore thrive among the promoted begging Scholars, because he hath no continuance. (***) (⸫)    

The second Book of Characters.  

CHARACT. I. A jailor  
IS the beggar's body-louse, which lives upon the blood and carcase of them which can worst spare any: He proceeds commonly from such a one, as could not govern himself, to govern others imperiously: He cannot think of a place, more suitable with the safe practice of his villainy: No, not among the roarers, or the company of quacksalvers: a thief, & a Murderer, be the names which make him iron mad, whiles himself proves the more exquisite offender: and if formerly he hath been infamous among all, it proves felicity with him now to insult over some, & grows the more implacable. At his first induction, he begins (like all new Officers) to reform methodically: Neither doth he spare to divulge (with ostentation) the marrow of his dearest policies: He may very well seem a bountiful Host, for he detains his customers whether they will or no: but his bounty retireth, when he looseth advantage. He is a true Alchemist, no dreamer in that science: nor the best proficient hath thrived better in his projections: He doth indeed familiarly (by virtue of his stonewalls, without the philosophers stone) convert rusty Iron into perfect silver: He makes men believe, that the poor captives shall work in daily labour to get a living: whiles his conjecture is verified in their nightly labour, 
Living louse.  by working through the enclosure; or being idle they get livings too many: If he perceives an open object of increase, he will himself work the means of disorder by plentiful liquor, that so a large fine may redeem the quarrel: To which purpose he doth sophisticate his fuming Beer, to breed a skirmish the sooner: & then the dungeon is a dreadful word, until a competent bribe pacify his humour. Nothing makes him so merry as a harsh mittimus, & a potent captive: they come like an inscription with a fat goose against new-year-tide: but bail sounds a sorrowful retreat: as if the inferior Thief should lose a booty by composition: and yet he will take his wives suretyship for the more extent of liberty, because he knows her perfect in the instructions of that Alchemy. He is a circumspect companion, and still dreams of an escape: and of a breaking forth he may well dream, having so many putrefied sores in one body; but seldom do any escape in his debt, though at their breaking out, they be a week behind: for above one week he never trusts; and not so long, unless the former advantage will recompense a fortnight's arrearages. Briefly, he is in a manner the devils huntsman, who keeps those Beagles either for castigation, because they were not cunning enough, else for amendment of the Chase. For if he sends them forth, they prove Graduates, when they escape the Gallows. As for himself, you may either meet him in the midst of Carouses among his Customers, or riding post in melancholy, to re-imparke his wild runagates.   

CHARAC. II. An Informer  
IS a protected Cheater, or a Knave in authority, licensed by authority: he sprang from the corruption of other men's dishonesty; and meets none so intricately vicious, but he can match the pattern: which makes him free of all Trades by the statute: for this gives him a freedom to survey all besides himself. He is a fellow as much beholding to his five senses, as to his intellectuals: he can diversely employ all his senses about divers objects; but commonly they are all occupied about one or two chiefly: the winding up of a jack is better than music to his cares in Lent: the steam of a roasted joint attracts his nostrils unsatiably: the sight of a shoulder of Mutton than feeds his stomach; but the taste and feeling of it, provokes him to a dreadful insultation. He is worse than an Otterhound for a dive-dopping Ale-house-keeper: and hunts him out unreasonably from his Element of Liquor; and yet he may seem reasonable honest, for he hearkens readily to a composition. But whilst he consents to save men harmless (upon terms indifferent) he makes open way for another of his coat to encroach upon the like premises. Victuallers therefore find no relaxation by his oath or assistance; though they should meet with more trouble, if he did not assist them. Arbitrements be beside his calling: but if he be held sit to be an arbibitrator, he will have a sure hand in the business. For if he be trusted to keep the pledge of their reconcilement, the pledge must be his, whilst they are reconciled at their own peril. He comes always with a serious countenance to dejected Ale-men, and promiseth restoration with an Exchequer licence to vex the justices: whilst he takes forty shillings, three pound, or upward for a single sub-poena, to defend the Liquor-man; who incurs new charges by trusting in the apparent cozenage. He takes away the relation betwixt a Lawyer and his Client; and makes it generally extend to the clerk in Offices; under whose safeguard he hath his Licence sealed to travail: a foot-post and he differ in the discharge of their packet, and the payment: for the Informer is content to tarry the next Term (perhaps) till a judgement. His profession affords practisers both great and small; both bucke-hounds and harriers: the essence of both is inquisition. But the first is a more thriving and ancient stock of hatred: for he is a kind of Antiquary: the last is seldom meddling with men much above him: howsoever, sometimes he is casually the scourge of an ignorant justice.   

CHARAC. III. Abase Mercenary Poet  
IS the most faithful obsequious servant of him that gives most: he subscribes his definition to all Dedicatory Epistles. If mother-wit raised him to be a writer, he shows himself a dutiful Child, and begs Poems in defence of Nature: neither can he choose but betray himself to be a cosset, by his odd frisking matter, and his Apish Titles: which may persuade any reasonable man, that he studies more to make faces, than a decent carriage. If he have learned Lilies Grammar, and a piece of Ovid's Metamorphosis, he thinks it time to ask his patron's blessing with some work that savours very much of the author's meaning, and two or three Latin sentences. If he hath seen the University, and forsaken it again, because he felt no deserts which might challenge a benefactor: then he calls every man (besides his patron) a despiser of learning, and he is wonderful angry with the world; but a brace of angels will pacify his humour. If he be an expulsed Graduate, he hath been conversant so long with rules of Art, that he can express nothing without the Art of begging, or public sale: but commonly he is some swimming-headed Clerk, who after he hath spent much time in idle Sonners, is driven to seek the tune of Silver, to make up his consort. Necessity and covetous hire, bribe his invention, but cannot corrupt his conscience: for though he undertakes more than he is able, yet he concludes within expectation of others that know him, and so he deceives himself only. He will never forfeit his day to necessity, if he writes by obligation; but he never pays back the principal to his Author: which happens diverse times when he is the Scrivener and the Debtor: for the tide of one Pamphlet being vented at his elbows, with leaning upon Taverne-tables; he ties himself to certain limits; within which precincts he borrows much, translates much, coins much, converting all to his project: and if matter fails, he flies upon the Lawyer, or flatters his object: but he never becomes so excellent, that the Creditor of his invention, may think it a dignity to have had such a Debtor: and therefore he pays back nothing. His Apologies discover his shifting cozenage: For he attributes the vices of his quill to the Age's infirmity; which endures nothing but amorous delights, close bawdry, or mirthful studied jests: As if the ignorance of any Age could hinder a wise man's propositions. He is a Traded fellow, though he seems a Scholar: but is never free of the Company, or accepted, till he hath drunk out his Apprentisehood among the grand Masters, and then with an univocal consent, he may commend his Wares, turn them into the fashion, and dress over his old Pamphlets, to encroach upon the buyer. He presumes much upon absolute good meanings, though the Text be palpable: and yet where he commends himself best, he is not refractory: for he still promises amendment, or some more voluminous work, to gratify his Benefactors; but he could never live long enough to finish his miracles. But he is much indebted to the favour of Ladies, or at least seems to have been graciously rewarded: if he affects this humour, he extols their singular judgement before he meddles with his matter in question: and so sells himself fictitiously to the world's opinion. If his hands be no more active than his head, he is guilty of many a good Scribes idleness, by making that legible, which (before Trans-scription) might have been tolerable folly. If you be therefore an honest, or generous Patron, suffer him not to be printed.   

CHARAC. FOUR A common Player  
IS a slow Payer, seldom a Purchaser, never a Puritan. The Statute hath done wisely to acknowledge him a Rogue: for his chief Essence is, A daily Counterfeit: He hath been familiar so long with outsides, that he professes himself, (being unknown) to be an apparent Gentleman. But his thin Felt, and his Silk Stockings, or his foul Linen, and fair Doublet, do (in him) bodily reveal the Broker: So being not suitable, he proves a Motley: his mind observing the same fashion of his body: both consist of parcels and remnants: but his mind hath commonly the newer fashion, and the newer stuff: he would not else hearken so passionately after new Tunes, new Tricks, new Devises: These together apparel his brain and understanding, whilst he takes the materials upon trust, and is himself the Tailor to take measure of his soul's liking. If he cannot believe, he doth conjecture strongly; but dares not resolve upon particulars, till he hath either spoken, or heard the Epilogue; unless he be prevented: neither dares he entitle good things Good, unless he be heartened on by the Multitude: till then, he saith faintly what he thinks, with a willing purpose to recant or persist: So howsoever he pretends to have a royal Master, or Mistress, his wages and dependence prove him to be the servant of the people. The cautions of his judging humour (if he dares undertake it) be a certain number of lying jests against the common Lawyer; handsome conceits against the fine Courtiers; delicate quirks against the rich Cuckold a Citizen; shadowed glances for good innocent Ladies and Gentlewomen; with a nipping scoff for some honest justice, who hath once imprisoned him: or some thrifty Tradesman, who hath allowed him no credit: always remembered, his object is, A new Play, or A Play newly revived. Other Poems he admits, as good fellows take Tobacco, or ignorant Burgesses give a voice, for company sake; as things that neither maintain, nor be against him. He can seem no less than one in honour, or at least one mounted: for unto miseries which persecute such, he is most incident. Hence it proceeds, that in the prosperous fortune of a Play frequented, he proves immoderate, and falls into a Drunkard's paradise, till it be last no longer. Otherwise when adversities come, they come together: For Lent and Shrove-tuesday be not far asunder: then he is dejected daily and weekly: his blessings be neither lame nor monstrous; they go upon four legs; but move slowly; and make as great a distance between their steps, as between the four Terms. If he marries, he mistakes the Woman for the Boy in Woman's attire, by not respecting a difference in the mischief. But so long as he lives unmarried, he mistakes the Boy, or a Whore for the Woman; by courting the first on the stage, or visiting the second at her devotions. Take him at the best, he is but a shifting companion; for he lives effectually by putting on, and putting off. If his profession were single, he would think himself a simple fellow, as he doth all professions besides his own: His own therefore is compounded of all Natures, all Humours, all professions. He is politic enough to perceive the commonwealths doubts of his licence, and therefore in spite of Parliaments or Statutes he incorporates himself by the title of a Brotherhood. I need not multiply his character; for boys and every one, will no sooner see men of this Faculty walk along, but they will (unasked) inform you what he is by the vulgar denomination.   

CHARAC. V. A Warrener  
IS an earthly minded man: He plucks his living from the earth's bowels: and therefore is his mind most conversant about that element: He lives in a little Arsenal or Watchtower, being well provided with Engines and Artillery: with which (like another tyrant) he doth encounter the enemies of his Inhabitants; that he may engross them all the more entirely: And yet in some respects he is a good Governor, for he delights more in the death of an enemy, than six subjects: The reason is apparent, for one foe is able to destroy twenty of his Vassals; and so his gains be prevented: Therefore a Polecat and he be at continual variance: yet he is charitable and merciful, for if the Polecat turn Ferret and obey him, none agree better: He doth Waive much spoil by his midnight watches, and yet he owes no Lordship: The truth is, tumblers, nets, and other traffic do escheat to him, although the owner be living. He verifies the proverb of plenty, as the more he hath, the more he doth desire: for though his own ground be full of breeders, yet he cannot forbear to have his hand in private Warrens. He is much, and most perplexed, because pales and hedges will not keep his cattle in compass: if he cannot therefore compound with the neighbours adjacent, he hath a trick to affright those that transgress their limits, by scattering murdered captives (as Polecats, and Weasels) in their places of refuge: And this is a deep quillet in the profession: Besides this, he hath little knowledge of moment, except the science of making Traps: or circumvention of innocent dogs to feed vermin: The chief petition of his prayer, is for black frosts, Sunshine weather, and calm midnights: under the protection of the last, he walks fearless, with a pikestaff, to exercise the liberty of that season among other men's backsides: Where he hath many night-spells, to the hazard of much Pullen, and indeed all things thieve-able; if he doth not play the valiant Footman, and take tribute of passengers: Neither is he worthy to be such a dealer with nets and Cony-catchings, if he could not entrap the King's subjects. I make no question therefore that he is worthy of his profession: Howsoever sometimes he is catched in a pitfal of liquor by his companions: whilst they perhaps being Poulterers, prove tyrannical substitutes, and rob his possessions: but in revenge, he doth often encroach upon the Poulterers likewise with a drunken bargain.   

CHARAC. VI A Huntsman  
IS the lieutenant of dogs, and foe to Harvest: He is frolic in a fair morning fit for his pleasure; and alike rejoiceth with the Virginians, to see the rising Sun: He doth worship it as they; but worships his Game more than they: And is in some things almost as barbarous. A sluggard he contemns, & thinks the resting time might be shortened; which makes him rise with day, observe the same pace, and prove full as happy; if the day be happy. The names of Fox, Hare, and Buck, be all attracting syllables; sufficient to furnish fifteen meals with long discourse in the adventures of each. Fox, draws in his exploits done against cubs, Bitch-foxes, Otters, and Badgers: Hare, brings out his encounters, platforms, engines, fortifications, and nightwork done against Leveret, Cony, wild-cat, Rabbit, Weasel, and Polecat: Then Buck, the Captain of all, provokes him (not without strong Passion) to remember Hart, Hind, Stag, Do, Pricket, Fawn, and Fallow Deer. He uses a dogged form of government, which might be (without shame) kept in Humanity; and yet he is unwilling to be governed with the same reason: either by being satisfied with pleasure, or content with ill fortune. He hath the discipline to marshal dogs, and suitably; when a wise Herald would rather marvel, how he should distinguish their coats, birth, and gentry. He carries about him in his mouth the very soul of Ovid's bodies, metamorphosed into Trees, Rocks, and Waters: For when he pleases, they shall echo and distinctly answer; and when he pleases, be extremely silent. There is little danger in him towards the Common wealth: for his worst intelligence comes from Shepherds or Woodmen; and that only threatens the destruction of Hares; a well-known dry meat. The Spring and he are still at variance; in mockage therefore, and revenge together of that season, he wears her livery in Winter. Little consultations please him best; but the best directions he doth love and follow, they are his dogs: If he cannot prevail therefore, his luck must be blamed; for he takes a speedy course. He cannot be less than a conqueror from the beginning, though he wants the booty; for he pursues the flight. His Manhood is a crooked sword with a saw back; but the badge of his generous valour is a horn to give notice. Battery and blowing up, he loves not: to undermine is his Stratagem. His Physic teaches him not to drink sweeting; in amends whereof, he liquors himself to a heat, upon cool blood; If he delights (at least) to emulate his dog in a hot nose. If a kennel of hounds passant take away his attention and company from Church; do not blame his devotion; for in them consists the nature of it, and his knowledge. His frailties are, that he is apt to mistake any dog worth the stealing, and never take notice of the Collar. He dreams of a Hare sitting, a Fox earthed, or the Buck couchant: And if his fancy would be moderate, his actions might be full of pleasure.   

CHARACT. VII. A Falconer  
IS the egg of a tame Pullet, hatched up among the Hawks and Spaniels. He hath in his minority conversed with Kestrils, and young Hobbies; but growing up he begins to handle the sure, & look a Falcon in the face. All his learning makes him but a new Linguist; for to have studied and practised the terms of Hawks Dictionary, is enough to excuse his wit, manners, and humanity. He hath too many Trades to thrive; and yet if he had fewer, he would thrive less: He need not be envied therefore, for a Monopoly, though he be Barber-surgeon, Physician, and Apothecary, before he commences Hawk-leech: for though he exercise all these, and the Art of Bowstrings together, his patients be compelled to pay him no further, than they be able. Hawks be his object, that is, his knowledge, admiration, labour, and all: they be indeed his idol, or mistress, be they Male or Female: to them he consecrates his amorous Ditties, which be no sooner framed then hallowed: Nor should he doubt to overcome the fairest, seeing he reclaims such Haggards; and courts every one with a peculiar Dialect. That he is truly affected to his Sweetheart in her featherbed, appears by the sequel; himself being sensible of the same misery: for they be both mewed up together: But he still chooses the worst penance; by choosing rather an Alehouse, or a Cellar, for his moulting place, than the Hawks mew. He cannot be thought less than a spy, and that a dangerous one: For his espials are, that he may see the fall of what he persecutes: and so the Woodcocks perish: If they do not, his Art is suspended. He is a right busy-body, who intermeddles so much with others affairs, that he forgets his own. He would not else correct his Hawks wildness; and be so ready to trample down the standing corn; or make way through enclosures: That argues him to be Rebellious, & Vulgar; one apt to strive for liberty. His Manhood I dare not signify, it remains doubtful upon equal terms, because, seldom tried with any thing but wildfowl: and then he performs water-seruice; perhaps sea-service; but both in some fowl manner: By Land he serves, on horse or foot; on both, to destroy Partridge, or Pheasant. There is no hope of his rising, though he doth excel; for he rather seeks to make others ambitious of rising, than himself: and therefore though he frames wings with Daedalus, he thereby makes his Hawk only ambitious: Yet if any shall (by conjecture) take a flight from Paul's Steeple; he will (I suppose) as soon as any. I had rather (in the mean time) take his word then his oath; for when he speaks without an oath, he is not troubled with the passion of his Curs, or Haggards; and therefore cannot so well excuse it, if he breaks his promise. As for Religion, she is a bird of too high a wing; his Hawks cannot reach it, and therefore not He: And if he flies to heaven, it is a better flight, than any he hath commemended: There, I meddle not with him; thither he must carry himself: for I can neither condemn, nor save him.   

CHARACT. VIII. A Farmer  
IS a concealed commodity: his worth or value is not fully known till he be half rotten, and then he is worth nothing: he hath Religion enough to say, God bless his Majesty; God send peace, and fair weather; So that one may pick Harvest out of him to be his time of happiness: but the Tith-sheafe goes against his conscience; for he had rather spend the value upon his Reapers and Ploughmen, then bestow any thing to the maintenance of a Parson. He is sufficiently booke-read, nay a profound Doctor, if he can search into the diseases of cattle: and to foretell rain by tokens, makes him a miraculous Astronomer. To speak good English is more than he much regards; and for him not to contemn all Arts and Languages, were to condemn his own education. The pride of his housekeeping is a mess of Cream, a Pig, or a green Goose, and if his servants can uncontrowled find the highway to the Cup board, it wins the name of a bountiful Yeoman. To purchase Arms (if he aemulates Gentry) sets upon him like an Ague: it breaks his sleep, takes away his stomach, and he can never be quiet till the Herald hath given him the Harrows, the Cuckoo, or some ridiculous Emblem for his Armoury. The bringing up, and Marriage of his eldest son, is an ambition which afflicts him so soon as the boy is borne, and the hope to see his son superior, or placed above him, drives him to dote upon the boy in his Cradle: To peruse the Statutes and prefer them before the Bible, makes him purchase the credit of a shrewd fellow, and then he brings all adversaries to composition; and if at length he can discover himself in large Legacies beyond expectation, he hath his desire. Mean time, he makes the prevention of a dearth his title, to be thought a good commonwealths man: And therefore he preserves a a chandelor's treasure of Bacon, Links and Puddings in the Chimney corner. He is quickly and contentedly put into the fashion, if his clothes be made against Whitsuntide or Christmas day: and then outwardly he contemns appearance: he cannot therefore choose but hate a Spaniard likewise; and (he thinks) that hatred only, makes him a loyal subject: for benevolence and subsidies be more unseasonable to him, than his quarters rend. Briefly, being a good housekeeper, he is an honest man; and so, he thinks of no rising higher, but rising early in the morning; and being up, he hath no end of motion, but wanders in his woods and pastures so effectually, that when he sleeps, or sits, he wanders likewise. After this, he turns into his element, by being too venturous hot, & cold: then he is fit for nothing but a chequered grave: howsoever some may think him convenient to make an everlasting lasting bridge; because his best foundation hath been (perhaps) upon woolpackes.   

CHARAC. IX. An Hostess  
IS (if beautiful) the abatement of reckonings, or the second course: if a widow, she is the journeys end of a wether-beabeaten Traveller: if ordinary, she is the servant & the mistress; but in general, she is a receiver to all professions, and acquainted by experience with cookery, or sluttery. Being invited to her own provisions, she prepares the way to mitigate her prizes, either by exclaiming upon the hard times, or insinuating the sublime price of Mutton. She must be pardoned, though she depart before supper is ended, or approach when supper is ended; for she is modestly ashamed to hear her sinful reckonings. She professes the kitchen, but takes place in the chamber: and having interrupted the Guest with a cup of Heartily welcome, she signifies his sorrow, though it be manifest silence; she excuses the attendance by variety of guests; and blaming the Maidservants, she commends herself for the sole agent: and you must conceive amiss of the shambles, or butter-market upon her honesty. Her chiefest knowledge is to distinguish upon the trades of our belly; and though she condemns a Tailor for strengthening his bill with bombast, stiffening, silk and buttons; yet she furnishes her own in the same kind, with wine, bread, salads, and cheese; and though she seldom abate the price of reckonings, yet she can give a morsel of her own into the bargain; if that may satisfy. She may abhor drunkenness; but in her own house conceals it, and receives the advantage: neither dares she reprove her husband's thirsty humour, lest she should lose her liberty; when he resigns his power to laziness, by which he was engendered. Her husband's sloth make her employed proudly; being heartily ambitious of labour, if she can boast well, that her pains alone keep her husband and his family: If herself be sponge and cork, she hath a daughter, or a Chambermaid of Ivy. These and she together make the best of a bad bargain; and therefore she affords no pennyworth which is not the best that can suddenly be bought for money. She seldom invites cost-free: for she determines to be paid commonly. If therefore she doth invite, she is a rare woman; neither hath she any thing else to plead rarity. Briefly, she is a thing of clean linen, that is the warrant of her cleanliness: She makes the welcome of a new, the farewell of an old Traveller. She hearkens joyfully to the numerous footing of horses; and having, with a quick accent twice called the Chamberlain, she is now busy about dressing supper.   

CHARACT. X. A Tapster.  
IS an Infernal: the Belzebub of a Cellar, and the very motion of a double jug. He was engendered by a Drunkard's appetite and urine: for nothing but his desire to fill and empty, hath bred a Tapster. He strives to be familiar at first sight; but instead of friendship he retains the names of Customers: only betwixt Brewer's men and him, there passes hungry and thirsty love; consisting of Holland-cheese & rolls in recompense of Bottle-ale, and strong Beer. Drawers and he live at variance; for he thinks the grape a disparragement to malt; and therefore he encounters Wine even with the smallest Beer he hath, to affright the fortitude of Sack and Claret with extremity: But (which betrays his stratagems) he gladly makes the Vintner's vessel his vassal and Renegado. His riches are single, they consist of single money; his profession double, it consists of double Beer: but then his faculties are again so single, that if he leaves the cellar, he must beg or steal: for ignorance and laziness have been his education. Mean time he is kept from robbery by exchange of single pieces: and yet he disables himself in exchange, unless he expects nothing by delay. He feels the same sorrow to hear you discommend his liquor, that he doth to see you depart. 
* That which aagrees with a covetous man's gain, agrees with his conscience; therefore what goes against his profit, goes against his conscience  It goes against his conscience to see the cup stand quietly; and against his stomach to see you prefer Mutton before powdered beef. He hath an ambitious memory, which cannot deceive him, because he hath taught it to deceive others: for his abundance of memory, and his meaning to get a stock, labour to beget a superfluous twopences in the reckoning. His brain swarms with a tempest of bottle-reckoning; which makes him careless of hats, lest he should breed an impostume, by enclosing their multitude, else he is afraid lest the hot and moist reckonings he carries in his head, should dissolve his felt; and therefore i goes uncovered: else to show he reuerences the Cellar & weekdays, more than the Church or Sabbath; for then only he plays the Turk, and puts on else (which is indeed the reason) he knows all comers claim his duty, and therefore he walks bareheaded to save a labour. He attributes the scant measure of his jug to the Cellars darkness, and his saving nature; but rather than he will justify both, he hath a certain slight of hand to fill the first glass, and so avoids inquisition. All his conscience is, that he dares not cast away God's good creatures; and therefore he preserves the droppings to make a compound. Of his prayers and religion, I neither find any thing, nor will I leave any thing written. But I believe strongly, that in stead of Praying, he wishes to hear men desirous of Collops and Eggs, or red Herrings. And therefore I think he should thrive best in a sea voyage; because he commends the relish of meats seasoned exceedingly. He hath nothing to commend his literature, but Brachigraphy, or the science of short writing, which he practices upon the barrels head, or behind the door: the meaning whereof he propounds, but doth not discover the rules. If he dares defend his function in Winter, he must provide an Orator: for he speaks coldly for himself, as being troubled with a common hoarseness, to betray his vigilance. Briefly, you must imagine him a light fellow, and like the cork, which swims with moisture, is supported with liquor, and tied about the bottle or jugs neck: there, or near about that, you may find him personally.   

CHARAC. XI. A Lawyer's Clerk  
IS his Master's right hand, except he writes with his left: or the second dresser of sheepskins: one that can extract more from the parchment, than the Husbandman from the Fleece. He is a weak Grammarian; for he begins to pierce, before he can construc well: witness the Chambermaid. Neither can you discommend him: for his best education hath been at a dull Writing-schoole. He doth gladly imitate Gentlemen in their garments; they allure the Wenches, and may (perhaps) provoke his Mistress: but then he must be a Customer to Cook's shops, and low Ordinaries, or visit the Broker, to bespeak Silk stockings; without which he thinks Gentry doth much degenerate▪ presuming on which, and his plausible discourse, he dares attempt a mistress: but if he chooses worthily, he feels himself worthily contemned, because he woes with bawdry in text; and with jests, or speeches stolen from Plays, or from the common-helping Arcadia. He may be reasonably commanded by his master in attendance: but if he rides with a Cloak-bag, he thinks himself disgraced behind his back. Howsoever, he is otherwise a peaceable companion: for as he continually makes agreement, so himself sits quietly, by his own Emblem of meekness, the sheeps-skinne; except the itch troubles him. You can make no question that he is not ignorant to dispatch readily; for he hath his business at his finger's end. He may pretend Scholarship, but all that is nothing to a jugglers, who exceeds in the slight of hand; which is the Art of both. He trembles therefore alike with all Handicrafts, (though he be most valorous) to think he should dare strike in the court: for upon his Palms and Fingers depend his Incomes. He is no vain Disputant; his knowledge is positive engrossed, and so upon record. Self-conceit in labours, he refuses: for he labours about nothing which is not justifiable by Precedents; either of West, his master, or a teacher. His Poetry is mere natural, if he hath any; that costs him no labour: in carriage, and the rest, he barely imitates; that labour is worth nothing. He is not ashamed of what he doth: for he regards not to have a finger, but a whole hand in the business. To which purpose you may see his name subscribed in Court, after sealed and delivered. He doth rely upon his master's practice, large indentures, and a desk to write upon. Westminster likewise doth not altogether not concern him: he hath a motion thither, and a motion there: thither he moves by way of injunction from his Master: there he moves in the common place of breakfasts, for relief of his stomach; and if he can match his break fast and dinner without grudging of his stomach, he hath his desire. He is a follower: for he wears a livery; but no servant, for he pays his own wages. Serving himself, he serves God by occasion: for whilst he loves his gain, and serves his desire of getting, he hates idleness. If his master thrives, he cannot do amiss; for he leads the way, and still rides before; but if he incline to the consumption of state, he needs a master that can thrive in that practice also, to recover him. He is the Sophister, or Solicitor to an Attorney; and from himself he proceeds to an Attorney: that is his commencement. (***)   

CHARACT. XII. A mere Attorney  
IS a fellow at your command for ten groats, and hath no inheritance, but a knavish form of understanding. He is extremely graced if he talk with two velvet-cloaked Clients in five Terms; and desires to salute great Lawyers in view to purchase reputation. He is indeed the upshot of a Lawyer's Clerk, and retails his Learning from penal Statutes, or an English Littleton. He is a better commodity to himself then Stockfish (being well beaten) His chief invention is how he may take bribes from both parties, & please both fashionably: how he may cousin his friends to all advantage, and give the gloss of good dealing: if his wickedness thrives well, he proves a terrible Ass in a lions skin: But whilst he outdares the Eagle, and forgets himself to be a Kastrell, his confidence deceives him: His Pen and Inkhorn is a special property; he wears it pendant, to express his dependence: Sub-paenaes, Executions, and all Writs of quarrel be his bond slaves. He doth naturally exclaim upon Poets and Players; they are too inquisitive about his cozenage. He commends Divinity; but makes the professors simple men when they submit to his mercy: He still prefers the authority of a Statute where it makes for his purpose (though mistaken) before God and a good conscience. His Religion is the Kings continually: And he would willingly come to Church on Sundays if he had ended his Declarations: His chief pride is to behave himself better than he is able, and chiefly in delivering of his charge at Court-leetes, where he assumes much peremptory state, and knows the audience cannot distinguish where he stole his lesson: and then though his mind be not in the Dishes, it is in the K●tchin. His highest ambition is an Inns of Court, an old rich Widow, and the Steward-ship of leets, and still he hopes to be first of his name: He loves little manners but where he hopes to save, and there he plays the Sycophant. He had rather eat still then wipe his mouth: his Alms be old Shoes for Brooms, one for another; for without receiving he never gives. His discourse is commonly attended with a Scire facias, and he is ashamed in his heat when he hears of a cunninger knave than himself. Briefly, indeed he is a mere Attorney, fit for all turns that any way enrich his coffer: for he hath knavery enough to cozen the people, but wit enough to deceive the gallows. Howsoever being too busy about his common bait of lucre (thinking to snap at the devils glow worm) he is catched in his common noose, the Pillory; from whence he is delivered: but the Huntsman marks him for for an old breeder.   

CHARAC. XIII. A crafty Scrivener  
IS the curse of man's crafty dealing, a curious workman, and may be free of the Locke-smithes, for full of Instruments he is, and Engines: and makes Manacles for any man's wearing above Twenty One. His first ambition commonly is to join forces, and make up his defects of policy, and custom by partaking in another's projects: then doth he readily aspire to frequented places, a convenient shop, the notice of his neighbours, and to engross credit, or some text Widow, by the noverint of his Grogren Gown: A common strumpet never fawned so much on young heir, as he with flattery observes the Usurer, and with nice dutiful care to preserve him, makes his rotten hide, the chief Indentures that contain his Title. Obligations be his best prayers; for he cannot tie God to perform conditions, or put in fuertyship: his friendship hath a Counter manned of being too honest; which he will obey, rather than not save by the bargain. He is the safest man from danger in the pedigree of rapines; for first, the gallant lives by sale and Country Tenants; the Citizen by the Gallant; the Scrivener and the devil upon both, or all: So neither lives by loss with the Gallant, nor upon trust, with the Citizen: his condemnation is a knot of Seals and their Impression: the first discover to him a conformed unity; yet none hath more hand in the procuring of variance. The last discovers a tractable nature, which gives and takes impression. Of the first (that is to give) he knows no meaning but when he gives the print of his fist, that it may stick by elder brothers a whole age: Of the last (that is to take impression) he knows none but a wrong meaning: for the best seal that imprints love in him, is only the King's picture; and that love continues no longer than he beholds it. His quills and instruments betoken peace: you cannot therefore expect more valour in him, then to win ground by the advantage of weak Prodigals, and such as run away from thriftiness: they be most importunate with him: with them he prevails most: to them he sells his extortious nature at the highest value, because they be most willing to make it their pennyworth. His memory is his own; another cannot safely trust it in reckoning the day of payment: for he reckons what he can save, by renewing the hazard of a second forfeit, not your loss by the first: and so he over-reaches you, by overreaching the time, when you trust his memory: which (like an old ridden jade) looks not to the journeys end but to the baiting place, though he goes further than the journeys end: If you trust him therefore you may feel the forfeit, and pay largely for an acquittance. His learning jumps just with, or falls sometimes short of an Attorneys; being only able to repeat the aforesaid form to thousand purposes: So all his mystery is indeed nothing to increase his Art, but his Policy, or plain knavery: And that, being served in, to the world's banquet, represents a large fox's head, and a little Sheepskin in divers dishes. It is the total of his Creed, that nothing should be justified, or called lawful, which hath not hand and Seal: that makes him exercise Hand and Seal, as the warrant for devices of his head and Soul. He never raises the spirit of a Prodigal by charms, but he together raises the spirit of mammon a Citizen, and then this potent conjuror binds them both fast in a Quadrangle. He will seem to know the Statute and common Law; but the construction fails commonly (for he looks to his own advantage) except the Law hath practised upon his hearing, to teach the comment when he mistakes the Law. Having at length been a long Auditor to the sweet lecture of Usury, he loves the matter so well, that he becomes proficient, graduate, and professor in the Science: but after general profession he approaches quickly to his centre (from whence he sprung) Nothing.   

CHARAC. XIIII. A Welsh Client  
IS a good journeyman, if not a good Footman: He is the only friend of Lawyers (if they be Welch begotten) and still solicits them for a judgement. His valour is, that he can by no means carry coals; and is therefore ever fittest for an action of the case. When he expresseth (as he thinks) his bounty to out brave his adversary before his Counsel, then doth he rather and indeed express a waspish nature: The which together with variety of purses, be the best maintenance, if not commencement, of his action. His pride lies wrapped up in a clout between his legs, or in a pocket in the Armhole: from thence he draws his Angels to feed his Lawyer, though himself sleep supperless. (Howsoever) he is content to be his own Cook; and though his diet be slender, yet his money and victuals lie within a clouts thickness, to prove him able: This might excuse him from a beggarly want of food, but rather detects him of a beggarly thrift. He makes the Term his time of pilgrimage, and Offices at Law, the Shrine where he offers up his devotion: Which (after he hath ended his voyage) amounts to voluntary penance; for he travails bare foot. Though he be long in travail and tarries late, yet nothing can be recovered by default of appearance: for inundations be his perpetual affidavit; and they alone are able to wash away all costs. The profit which he gives to English Lawyers, he gives generally to the laws profession: that proceeds from his language, which to the credit of Inns of Court, and Law-French, he utters harshly, to the great amazement of beholders. A piece of Parchment and a Seal thoroughly paid for, satisfies him presently in steed of judgement; but otherwise he spends his faith upon the hope of costs: And if he dies before execution, he scarce hopes to be saved.   

CHARACT. XV. A Country Bridegroom  
IS the finest fellow in the Parish; and he that misinterprets my definition, deserves no Rosemary nor Rose-water: He never was master of a feast before, that makes him hazard much new complement: But if his own Master be absent, the Feast is full of displeasure; except in his latter days he grew rebellious; and then he must remove away to his wives Country; except his fortunes be peremptory. Although he points out his bravery with ribbons, yet he hath no vainglory; for he contemns fine clothes with dropping pottage in his bosom. The invitation of guests, provision of meat, getting of children, and his nuptial garments, have kept his brain long in travail; if they were not arguments of his wooing Oratory. His invitations are single, his provisions double, his expected children seldom more than treble; but his garments at least quadruple. He invites by rule within in distance, where he hopes to prevail; not without some paraphrase upon his meaning. But (howsoever) he seems generous: for nothing troubles him, or takes away his stomach more, than default of company: yet in his provision he had rather take away your stomach then fill your belly. As for his children if he begets above three, he may beget for God's sake to store the Parish. And yet his raiment (for the time) must show much variety. The Tailor likewise must be a vexation to him, or his clothes would never sit handsomely: But (above all) a bridle in his mouth would serve better than a Piccadill; for if you restrain him from his objects, and the engine of his neck, you put him into the Pillory. He must savour of gallantry a little; though he perfume the Table with Rosecake; or appropriate Bonelace, and Coventry-blew. He hath Heraldry enough to place every man by his Arms: But his quality smells rank with running up and down to give a heartily welcome: Blame him not though he prove preposterous: for his inclination was perhaps always good, but his behaviour now begins: which is notwithstanding (he thinks) well discharged if when he dances, the heels of his shoes play the Galliard. (***) (⸪)   

CHARACT. XVI. A Country Bride.  
IS the beginning of the world: or an old book with a new Title:  
A quarters wages before hand, and the Title of a Country Dame be the two Adaments of her affection. She rises with a resolution to be extremely sober: this begets silence, which gives her a repletion of air without ventage: and that takes away her appetite. She seems therefore commendably sober unto all: but she drives the Parson out of patience with her modesty, unless he have interest or be invited: She inclines to stateliness, though ignorant of the meaning: Her interpreter, taster, carver, and Sewer, be therefore accidental; and yet without these, she were an Image to the assembly. Rosemary and Ribbons be her best magnificence. She will therefore bestow a Livery, though she receives back wages: behaviour sticks to her like a disease; necessity brings it; neither can she take pleasure in the custom: and therefore importunacy with repetition, enforce her to dumb signs: otherwise you must not look for an answer. She is a courteous creature: nothing proceeds from her without a courtesy: She hath no ornament worth observance, if her gloves be not miraculous and singular. Those be the Trophy of some forlorn suitor, who contents himself with a large offering, or this glorious sentence, that she should have been his bedfellow. Her best commendation is to be kissed often: this only proceeds from her without interruption. She may to some, seem very raw in carriage, but this becomes noted through the fear of discovering it. No question is to be made of her maidenhead: yet if she weeps, a question may arise; as whether she doth still desire to keep it? but the answer take: away the doubt of losing it: for neither can she repent her match before trial, nor the loss of chastity, seeing she matched for that purpose: but these are nothing to preserve her honesty: for she cannot also cunningly proceed; but like a quiet creature, wishes to lose her Garters quickly, that she may lose her maidenhead likewise. And now she is laid.   

CHARAC. XVII. My Mistress  
IS my perspective glass, through which I view the world's vanity: she hath five servants beside myself: and me (that I may still continue dutiful) she suffers to be before hand with my wages: But I that know her coin is counterfeit, suspect she is a witch, and charms the taker, or it would not else be so currant: The truth is, I first began to look upon her, because she said she loved a Poet well, and was in part a poetess: for which good quality I might have loved her likewise; but she was only good at long Hexameters, or a long and a short, even for variety sake; which came so full upon Ovid's amorous vein, that I despised her meaning. She had her education under a great Countess; and if she could leave the courtship she learned when she was a waiter, she might quickly prove a reasonable good woman. Her body is (I presume) of Gods making; and yet I cannot tell, for many parts thereof she made herself.  
Her head is in effect her whole body and attire: for from thence, and the devises there engendered, proceeds her blushing modesty, her innocent white teeth, her gaudy gowns, her powdered hair, her yellow bands, her farthingals, and false Diamonds.  
All these together, and a quick fancy commend her function: for Fiddlers and Painters be full of Crotchets. I have heard her also wish for new hands: but those she hath, will serve conveniently among them that know her properties: you need not make the question whether she can sing; for visitation will teach you, that she can scarce leave singing. And as for dancing, she will ask the question of you. She hath the trick of courtship, not to be spoken with; to take Physic, and to let her mountebank be the best ingredient. Her wit is Dainty, because seldom: and whatsoever is wanting in the present delicacy of conceit, she makes good by rehearsal of stolen witty answers, even to the seventh addition. She purposes to travel shortly, when as her voyage will only return with some French commodity; and she will rather fetch it, though she may be furnished at home, because she loves the cheapest ware, and the outlandish fashion. Her generosity extends thus far; to bestow love, and look for neither thanks nor requital; because a Marmoset and little Dog be ignorant of both. These excepted, she never loved truly. Her moral virtues be a subtle thrift, and a thriving simplicity. But whilst she makes the best construction of a matter, she would make likewise a thousand pound jointure of her behaviour only, and Court-carriage. This bargain is open for any man, who thinks not the pennyworth doubtful. Her best Religion is to teach a Parrot the Lords prayer; but the ten Commandments be a new matter: so that Petitions be more plausible with her, than Injunctions: at her own request therefore I give this to her looking-glass.   

CHARAC. XVIII. A Gossip  
IS a windy Instrument; a pair of hellowes, or indeed two: For without her fellow, she is nothing. These labour jointly as at an Alchemists furnace, only to beget vapours: she receives and sends back breath with advantage; that is her function. Her end is to kindle; that is, to warm, or burn: she can do both. And being quiet, or not in contention, she is without her calling; that is, her company. Her knowledge is her speech; the motive, her tongue; and the reason her tongue also: but the subject of her eloquence is the neighbour's wife, and her husband; or the neighbour's wife and husband both. She is the mirth of marriages, and public meetings: but her natural season comes in with a minced pie, at Christmas; when all may attend with leisure. She carries her bladder in her brain, that is full; her brain in her tongue's end, that she empties. It was washed down thither with pints of Muscadine; and being there, she loses it like urine, (but in public) to ease her kidneys: which would otherwise melt with anger, because she cannot be heard; or consume with malice, because she was prevented. Being once a servant, she then learned to run, or go apace; that she might tarry and take, or give intelligence by the way. She aemulates a Lawyer in riding the circuit, and therefore she keeps a circuit in, or out of her own liberties: striving to be both one of the judges, jury and false witnesses: that is her freedom only, to censure. She contemplates within, that she may practise abroad; that makes her reveal secrets. Her meaning is colour, that she daubs on every Fable; but in herself abhors it. Her truth is, to make truths and tales convertibles: tales be her substance, her conceit, her vengeance, reconcilements, and discourse. To talk of Cookery, or cleanliness, and to tax others, is her best and only commendation. To talk of what she is ignorant, yields her credit and presumption; to tax, gives a tribute to her own praise by implication; and begets her Empire. Her lungs be everlasting: she cannot be short wound: if those would perish, she might be recovered. She is alike dangerous with the Pox, to the town where she inhabits: and being pledged, or admitted among the females, she infects more easily. If she rails against whoredom, it favours not of devotion; for she is only married, to escape the like scandal; from the door outward. The burial of a second husband gives her the title of experience; but when she hath outlived three, she takes authority and experience both (as a Soldier that hath passed the pikes of three set battles) for granted. Her commendable antiquity reaches not above fifty; for growing old, she grows odious to herself first: And to prevent the loss of company; (having lived vainly) she commences hostess: that alone preserves her humour. A mongrel print would best express her Character: for she is indeed a apparel woman, or the worst part of both sexes, bound up in one volume: seeing she corrupts the best by the use of them.   

CHARAC. XIX. An old Woman  
IS one that hath seen the day: and is commonly ten years younger, or ten years elder by her own confession, than the people know she is: if she desires to be youthful accounted, you may call her Mistress, Widow, or the like; but otherwise old Mother, grandam, and such names that do seal antiquity: the first she takes well, if childless: the last never well, but when she can speak wonders to grandchildren of the third generation. If they please her, she hath old Harry sovereigns, that saw no sun in fifty years, to give away on her deathbed. She loves the upper end of the table, and professes much skill in Cookery: she thinks it also some felicity to give attendance about sick persons: but is the common foe to all Physicians. In agues, aches, coughs and tissickes, she confidently will undertake to cure by prescription: if herself be untainted. As for diseases which she knows not, she dares proceed to Dragon-water, Holy Thistles, Worme-wood-drinkes, and Clyster s, without the help of Galen, or Hypocrates: if she blushes at the suns rising, her colour changes not till bedtime: and sometimes though she drinks down her breakfast, by dinner time her teeth be grown, & she will seem to chew the cud. She may as safely walk amongst contagious Lepers, as into the kitchen, and smells infection, or perfume with the same nostril. She hath perpetually the pride of being too cleanly, or the adherent vice of being too sluttish. She affects behaviour in the brood of youth, and will divulge her secrets of superstition to any that will be attentive. Envy is to her a just parable twin, and though it be offensive commonly to few, yet doth it oftentimes consume herself, and starve away her memory.   

CHARAC. XX. A Witch  
IS the devils Hostess: he takes house-room and diet of her; and yet she pays the reckoning: guilty thoughts, and a particular malice of some one person, makes her conceive detestation of all: her policy of sequestration, to avoid jealousy of neighbours, detects her envious spirit: for the melancholy darkness of her low cottage is a main conjecture of infernals: her name alone (being once mounted) makes discourse enough for the whole parish: if not for all hamlets within six miles of the market. She receives wages in her own coin: for she becomes as well the object of every man's malice, as the fountain of malice towards every man. The torments therefore of hot Iron, and merciless scratching nails, be long thought upon, and much threatened (by the females) before attempted. Mean time she tolerates defiance through the wrathful spittle of matrons, in stead of fuel, or maintenance to her damnable intentions: she is therefore the ignorant cause of many Witches besides herself: for ceremonious avoidance brings the true title to many, although they heartily scorn the name of Witches. Her actions may well seem to betray her high birth and pedigree: for she doth quickly apprehend a wrong before it be mentioned: and (like a great family) takes no satisfaction which doth not infinitely countervail the abuse: children therefore cannot smile upon her without the hazard of a perpetual wry-mouth: a very Nobleman's request may be denied more safely than her petitions for small Beer: and a great Ladies, or Queen's name may be less doubtfully derided. Her prayers and Amen, be a charm & a curse: her contemplations and soules-delight be other men's mischief: her portion and suitors be her soul, and a succubus: her highest adorations be Yew-trees, dampish Churchyards, & a fair Moonlight: her best preservatives be odd numbers, and mighty Tetragrammaton: these provocatives to her lust with Devils, breeds her contempt of Man; whilst she (like one sprung from the Antipodes) enjoys her best noon about midnight: and (to make the comparison hold) is trodden under foot by a public & general hatred: she is nothing, if not a Pythagorean; for she maintains the transmigration of spirits: these do uphold the market of bargain & sale among them; which affords all sorts of cattle at a cheaper rate than Banks his horse, and better instructed: but (like a prodigal) she is out-reached, by thinking earnest is a payment; because the day is protracted. Her affections be besotted in affectation of her science; She would not else delight in Toads, Mice, or spinning Cats without diversity: It is probable she was begotten by some Mounte-bank, or Wording Poet, for she consists of as many fearful sounds without science, and utters them to as many delusive purposes: She is a cunning Statuary: and frames many idols: these she doth worship no otherwise then with greedy scorn: and yet she is a deep Idolater: implication is enough with her, to bespeak any man's picture, without his entreaty: for if it appears that he can provoke her, it implies likewise that he desires to be remembered by her; and images be a certain memorial. She seldom lives long enough to attain the Mystery of Ointments, herbs, charms, or Incantations perfectly: for age is most incident to this corruption, and destiny prevents her. But howsoever she be past childbearing, yet she gives suck till the latest minute of five-score and upwards. If she outlives hemp, a wooden halter is strong enough: unless she saves a labour.   

CHARACT. XXI. A Pander  
IS the scab of a Commonwealth: surfeits raise him to a blister; necessity, and want of good Surgeons, make him a mattery sore; whilst Time and Tobacco brings him to a dry scale. He is commonly the upshot of a younger brother, who lacks Honesty and Inheritance; or the remainder of a prodigal, who hath lost them and himself. His Etymology is Pawne-dare: which intimates; he dares pawn his soul to damnation, or his stolen parcels to the Brokers. Bawdy songs and he came both in together; for he is no generous companion except he can sing, and also compose stinking Ditties. He hath been a great hunter up and down in his days, and therefore (it is no wonder) if towards a decay he become Warrener. He is the devils Countryman or indeed acquaintance: therefore in the devils absence he proves his Deputy; and welcomes customers with fireworks: a pipe of Tobacco, and a hot Quean. His Usher-like attendance on Public whores hath made Coaches frequent; to distinguish them and Private Ones. His valour is expressed in black patches (much about Roaring Boys humour) but plasters, which express him more venturous, he conceals. He wishes to be the first teacher of a Novice: and (being so admitted his Tutor) he first teaches him to beware of adultery and theft, by making him guilty before he hath offended: with which two vices he doth first accuse him, because himself is best acquainted with those two. If he be married, he hath divorced himself, because his wife was honest, & so means to continue: or (being dishonest) because she was odiously deformed, not worthy to entice others. His Creed is a matter of three Articles, and them he believes actually: First, that there is no God: secondly, that all women, and more especially that all Citizens wives, be, or would be, common, or peculiar whores: & lastly, that all things are lawful, which can escape the laws danger: good examples therefore prevail with him, as showers among the stones: they make him more studious to deceive passengers: not to produce imitation in him, nor to beget fertility in them. His Fellowships be retired, and within doors: for being abroad, he is a sober lump of villainy; delighting unsociably (like a Cutpurse, and for the same reason) rather in multitudes then civil numbers. The Bawd and He, are chief confederates: with whom (together, as occasion happens) the Constable hath standing wages to be an assistant; every way as 
* He being ready to disturb or not disturb their customers, as they shall instruct him.  dangerous as the other two. Bowling-allies, Dicing-houses, and Tobacco shopes, be the Temples, which He, and his Fraternity of Roarers, have erected to Mercury and Fortune: In the two first he doth acknowledge their Deity; in the last he offers smoking incense to them both; in recompense of booty gotten by Chance and cheating. If the Gallows be disappointed of his destiny, they can blame nothing but his tender bones, which could not brook so long a journey; or a whore's quarrel, whilst Wine was his Leader.  
FINIS.