C-lass Bodk. 'D'r^ k^ Fji rA MICROCOSMOGRAPHV |nf(C of the \\iOxU\ Jiocovcvcrt. MICROCOSMOGRAPHY; (^/ xm of the ^voxU mimvmti ESSAYS AND CHARACTERS. JOHX EARLE, D.D. or CHRIST-CHURCH AXD MERTON COLLEGES, OXFORD. AND BISHOP OF SALISBURY. TO WHICH ARE ADDED, NOTES AND AN APPENDIX, BY PHILIP BLISS, FELLOW OF ST. JOHNS COLLEGE. OXFORD. FIRST AMERICAN EDITION EDITED BY L. L. WILLIAMS. .^j:^¥. ALBANY: JOEL MUNSELL. MDCCCLXVII. TK '^^'^ Oift 7 S 'OS PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. This little book, called Microcosmography, was r-mirably edited in 1811 by Philip Bliss ; and his •; :or has left scarcely any thing to be supplied. !' asides the notes, that edition contained several ' ort pieces by Bishop Earle, and an interesting list of " Books of Characters," with some specimens from the rarest. The present edition is little more than a reprint from that. Some corrections of errors noted by Mr. Bliss in an appendix have been made, and a few notes have been added, which are marked with an initial. A D VEB T I SEME NT To THE Edition of 1811. The present edition of Bishop Earle's Characters was undertaken from an idea that they were well worthy of republication, and that the present period, when the productions of our early English writers are sought after with an avidity hitherto unexampled, would be the most favourable for their appearance. The text has been taken, from the edition of 1733, collated with the first impression in 1628. The varia- tions from the latter are thus distinguished : — those words or passages which have been added since the first edition are contained between brackets, [and printed in the common type] ; those which have received some alteration, are printed in italic, and the passages, as they stand in the first edition, are always given in a note. For the Notes, Appendix, and Index, the editor is entirely answerable, and although he is fully aware that many superfluities will be censured, many omissions discovered, and many errors pointed out, he hopes that the merits of the original author will, in a great measure, compensate for the false judgment or neglect of his reviver. January 30, 1811. THE PREFACE To THE Edition of 1732* This little book had six editions between 1628 and 1638 without any author's name to recommend it: I have heard of an eighth in 1664. From that of 1733 this pre- sent edition is reprinted, without altering any thing but the plain errors of the press, and the old pointing and spelling in some places. The language is generally eas)% and proves our English tongue not to be so very changeable as is commonly supposed ; nay, sometimes the phrase seems a little ob- scure, more by the mistakes of the printer than the distance of tim.e. Here and there we meet with a broad expression, and some characters are far below others ; nor is it to be expected that so great a variety of portraits should all be drawn with equal excellence, though there are scarce any without some masterly touches. The change of fashions unavoidably casts a shade upon a few places, yet even those contain an exact picture of the age wherein they were written, as the rest does of mankind in general : for reflections founded upon nature will be just in the main, as long as men are men, though the par- ticular instances of vice and folly may be diversified. * London : Pi^inted by E. Say, Anno Dmnini m.dcc.xxxii. Vm MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Paul's Walk is now no more, but then good company adjourn to coffee-houses, and, at the reasonable fine of two or three pence, throw away as much of their precious time as they find troublesome. Perhaps these valuable essays may be as acceptable to the public now as they were at first ; both for the enter- tainment of those who are already experienced in the ways of mankind, and for the information of others who would know the world the best way, that is — without trying it.* * A short account of Earle, taken from the Athence Oxoiiienses is here omitted. AD VERTISE3IENT To THE Edition of 1786.* As this entertaining little book is become rather scarce, and is replete with so much good sense and genuine humour, which, though in part adapted to the times when it first appeared, seems, on the whole, by no means inapplicable to any asra of mankind, the editor con- ceives that there needs little apology for the republication. A farther inducement is, his having, from very good authority, lately discovered! that these Characters (hitherto known only under the title of Blounfs)X were actually drawn b}^ the able pencil of John Earle, who was formerly bishop of Sarum, having been translated '■Microcosmography ; or, a Piece of the World characterized ; in and Characters, London, printed A. D. 1650. Salisbui^j, Reprinted and sold by E. Easton, 1786. Sold also by 6. and T. IVUkie, St. Paul's Church-yard, London.'" t I regret extremely that I am miable to put the reader in posses- sion of this very acute discoverer's name. :j: This mistake originated with Langbaine. who in his account of Lilly, calls Blount " a gentleman who has made himself known to the world by the several pieces of his own writing, (as Hone Sub- secivce, his 3Iicrocosmography, (fcc") Dramatic Poets, 8vo. 1691, p. 327. B X MICROCOSMOGKAPHY. to that see from Worcester, A. D. 1663, and died at Oxford, 1665. Isaac Walton, in his Life of Hooker, dehneates the cha- racter of the said venerable prelate. It appears from Antonj^ Wood's Athen. Oxon. under the Life of Bishop Earle, that this book was first of all published at London in 1628, under the name of '' Edward Blount'' EDITIONS OF MICRO COSMOGBAPHY. The first edition (of which the Bodleian possesses a copy, 8vo. P. 154. Theol.) was printed with the follow- ing title : " Micro-cosmograpliie : or, a Peece of the World discowfed; Jn Essay es and Characters. Newly comi^osed for the Northerne parts of this Kingdome. At London. Printed hy W. 8. for Ed. Blount, 1628. " This contains only fifty-four characters * which in the present edition are placed first. I am unable to speak of any subsequent copy, till one in the following year, (1629), printed for Robert Allot,! and called in the title " The fifth edition much enlarged. This, as Mr. Henry Ellis kindly informs me. from a copy in the British Museum, possesses seventy- six characters. The sixth was printed for Allot, in 1633, {Bodl. Mar. 441,) and has seventy-eight, the additional ones being " a herald," and a " suspicious, or jealous man." T\iQ seventh appeared in 1638, for Andrew Crooke, agreeing precisely with the sixth : and in 1650 the eighth. A copy of the latter is in the curious library of Mr. Hill, and, as * Having never seen or been able to hear of any copy of the second, third, or fourth editions, I am unable to point out when the additional characters first appeared. t Kobert Allot, better known as the editor of England'' s Parnassus, appears to have succeeded Blount in several of his copy-rights, among others, in that of Shakspeare, as the second edition (1632) was printed for him. Xll MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Mr. Park acquaints me, is without any specific edition numbered in the title. I omit tliat noticed by the editor of 1782, as printed in 1604, for if such a yolumc did exist, which I mucli doubt, it was nothing more than a copy of the eighth with a new title-page. In 1733 appeared the ninth, which was a reprint of the sixth, executed with care and judgment. I liave endeavoured in vain to discover to whom we are indebted for this republication of bishop Earle's curious volume, but it is probable that the person who undertook it, found so little encourage- ment in his attempt to revive a taste for the productions of our early writers, that he sufi'ered his name to remain unknown. Certain it is that the impression, probably not a large one, did not sell speedily, as I have seen a copy, bearing date 1740, under the name of" The World display'' d: or several Essays; consisting of the various Characters and Passions of its jmncipal Inhabitants,^^ &c. London, printed for C. Ward, and R. Chandler. The edition printed at Salisbur}^, in 1780, (which has only seventy-four characters,) with that now offered to the public, close the list. CONTENTS. PAGE. Preface to the Ameri- can Edition, iii Advertisement to the edition of 1811, .... v Preface to tlie edition of 1732, vii Advertisement to the edition of 1780, ix Editions of Microcmmo- graphy, xi Blount's Preface to the Reader, xv A child, 1 A young raw preacher, 4 A grave divine, 8 A nicer dull physician, 10 An alderman, 14 A discontented man, . 16 An antiquary, 18 A younger brother, . . 20 A nieer "formal man, . 22 A church papist, 24 A self-conceited man, 26 A too idly reserved man, 28 A tavern, 30 A shark, 38 A carrier, 35 A young man, 37 An old college butler, 39 An upstart country knight, 42 PAGE. An idle gallant, 44 A constiSble, 46 A downright scholar, . 47 A plain country fellow, 49 A player, . . . , 52 A detractor, 54 A young gentleman of the university, 56 A weak man, 58 A tobacco-seller, 60 A pot-poet, 61 I A plausable man, .... 63 I A bowl-alley, 65 The world's wise man, 66 A surgeon, 68 A contemplative man, 70 A she precise hypocrite, 71 A sceptick in religion, 75 An attorney, 79 A partial man, 81 A trumpeter, 82 A vulgar spirited man, 83 A plodding student, . . 86 Paul's walk, 87 A cook, 90 A bold forward man, . . 92 A baker, 94 A pretender to learning, 95 A herald, 97 The common singing- men in cathedral churches, 99 XIV MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. PAGE. A shop-keeper, 100 A blunt man, 102 A handsome hostess, . 104 A critic, 105 A Serjeant or catch- pole, 106 An university dun, . . . 107 A staj^ed man, 108 [All from this character were added after the first edition.] A modest man, Ill A meer empty wit, . . . 113 A drunkard, 115 A prison, 117 A serving-man, 119 An insolent man, 121 Acquaintance, 122 A meer complimental man, 125 A poor fiddler, 126 A meddling-man, 128 A good old man, 129 A flatterer, 131 A high spirited man, . 133 A meer gull citizen, . . 135 A lascivious man, 139 A rash man, 141 An affected man, 143 A profane man, 145 A coward, 146 A sordid rich man, . . . 148 A meer great man, . . . 150 A poor man, 151 An ordinary honest man,153 A suspicious, or jealous man, 155 APPENDIX. 157 163 167 Some account of bishop Earle,* Characters of Bishop Earle, List of Dr. Earle's works, Lines on Sir John Bur- roughs, 169 Lines on the Death of the earl of Pembroke, 170 Lines on Mr. Beau- mont 172 Dedication to the Latin translation of the Ejxwv BatfjXxr), • • • • 175 Inscription on Dr. Iley- lin's monument, 180 Correspondence be- tween Dr. Earle and Mr. Bagster, 182 Inscription in Stregle- thorp cliurch, 184 Chronological List of Books of Characters, from 1567 to 1700, . . 186 Corrections^!^ addi- tions, ...^. 188 A note on bishop Earle's arms, from Guillim's Heraldry, . 190 * It will be remarked, that Dr. Earle's name is frequently spelled Earle and Earlex in the following pages. Wherever the editor has had occasion to usi' the name himself, he has invariably called it Earle, conceivinir that to be the proper orthography. Wherever it is found Earles. he has attended strictly to the original, from which the article or information has been derived. TO THE READER. I have (for once) adventured to play the midwife's part, helping to bring forth these infants into the world, which the father would have smothered ; who having left them lapt up in loose sheets, as soon as his fancy was delivered of them, written especially for his private recreation, to pass away the time in the country, and by the forcible request of friends drawn from him : yet, passing severally from hand to hand, in written copies, grew at length to be a pretty number in a little volume : and among so many sundry dispersed transcripts, some very imperfect and surreptitious had like to have passed the press, if the author had not used speedy means of prevention; w|ien, perceiving the hazard he ran to be wronged, wa^ unwillingly f willing to let them pass as now they appear to the world. If any faults have escaped the press (as few books can be printed without), impose them not on the author, I entreat thee; but rather impute them to mine and the printer's oversight, who seriously * Gentile, or Gentle, 8th edit. 1650. t Willingly, 8th edit, evidently a typographical error. XVI MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. promise, on the re-impression hereof, by greater care and diligence for this our former defoiilt, to make thee ample satisfaction. In the mean while, I remain Thine, Ed. Blount. * * Edward Blonnt, who lived at the Black Bear, Saint Panrs Church- yard, appears to have been a bookseller of respectability, and in some respects a man of letters. Many dedications and prefaces, with as much merit as compositions of this nature generally possess, bear his name, and there is every reason to suppose that he trans- lated a work from the Italian, which he intituled " The Hospitall of Incvrable Fooks,'' &c. 4to. IGOO. Mr. Ames has discovered, from tlie Stationer's Register, that he was the son of Ralph Blount or Blunt, merchant-taylor of London ; that he was apprenticed to William Ponsouby, in 1578. and made free in 1588. It is no slight honour to his taste and judgment, that he was one of the partners in the first edition of Shakspeare. MIOROOOSMOGRAPHY; OR, I. A CHILD XS a man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam before lie tasted of Eve or the apple; and he is happy whose small practice in the world can only write his character. He is nature's fresh picture newly drawn in oil, which time, and much handling, dims and defaces. His soul is yet a white paperi 1 So Washbourne, in his Divine Poems, 12mo. 1054: " ere' tis accustom'd unto sin, The mind white imjier is, and will admit Of any lesson you will write in it." — p. 26. Shakspeare, of a child, says, " the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume." K. John. II, 1. This comparison is carried out to some length in a poem entitled Paper, printed in the American Museum in 1788, and there ascribed to Dr. Franklin. The authorship is, however, doubtful. See Sparks' s Franklin, II, 161. L. 1 '1 MICllOCOSMOGRArilY. iinscribbled with observations of the worUI, where- with, \\t lengtli, it becomes a blurred note-book. He is purely happy, because he knows no evil, nor hath made means by sin to be acquainted with misery. He arrives not at the mischief of being wise, nor endures evils to come, by foreseeing them. He kisses and loves all, and, when the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his beater. Nature and his parents alike dandle him, and tice him on with a bait of sugar to a draught of wormwood. He plays yet, like a young- prentice the first day, and is not come to his task of melancholy. ['-All the language he speaks yet is tears, and they serve him well enough to express his necessity.] His hardest labour is his tongue, as if he were loath to use so deceitful an organ ; and he is best company with it when he can but prattle. We laugh at his foolish sports, but his game is our earnest;-^ and his drums, rattles, and hobby-horses, but the emblems 2 This, and every other passage thoughout the volume, [included between brackets,] does not appear in the first edition of 1628. 3 Behold the child by Nature's kindly law Pleased with a rattle, tickled witn a straw : Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, A little louder, but as empty quite. Scarfs, gaiters, gold, amuse his riper stage, And beads and prayerbooks are the toys of age. Pope's Essay on Man, 11, 275. L. A CHILD. 6 and mocking of* man's business. * His father hath writ him as his own little story, wherein he reads those days of his life that he cannot remember, and sighs to see what innocence he hath out-lived. The elder he grows, he is a stair lower from God;^ and, like his first father, much worse in his breeches/^ lie is the Christian's example, and the old man's re- lapse; the one imitates his purenes-:, and the other falls into his simplicity. Could he put oflF his body with his little coat, he had got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for another. 4 See at his feet Home little plan or chart, Some fra;:^ment from his dream of human life, Sloped by himself with newly learned art, A weddin;^ or a func-ral. A mourning or a festival. Wordiivjorth' s JutiuiafUjrcs of Immortality. L. 5 Trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home. Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy. But he beholds the light and whence it flows. He sees it in his joy. Ibid. L. Adam did not, to use the words of the old Geneva Bible, "make himself breeches," till he knew sin : the meaning of the passage in the text is merely that, as a child advances in age, he commonly pro- ceeds in the knowledge and commission of vice and immorality. 4 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. II. A YOUXG FAW FBFACIIER XS a bird not yet fledged, tliat hath hopped out of his nest to be chirping on a hedge, and will be strag- gling abroad at what peril soever. Ilis backwardness in the university hath set him thus forward; for had he not truanted there, he had not been so hasty a divine. His small standing, and time, hath made him a proficient only in boldness, out of which, and his table-book," he is furnished for a preacher, llis col- lections of study are the notes of sermons, which, taken up at St. jMary's,'' he utters in the country : and if he write brachigraphy,-^ his stock is so much the better. 7 The custom of writing in table-books, or, as it was then expressed, "in tables," is noticed, and instances given in lieecVs Shakspeare^ vi, 13. xii, 170. xviii, 88. Dr. Farmer adduces a passage very appli- cable to the text, from Hairs character of the hypocrite. "He will ever sit where he may be scene best, and in the midst ol the sermou pulles out his tahUa in haste, as if he feared to loose that note," »&c. Decker, in his Guh Hornebooke., page 8, speaking to his readers, saj'S, " out with your tables,'"' &c. S St. Mary's church was originally built by king Alfred, and annexed to the University of Oxford for the use of the scholars, when St, Giles's and St. Peter's (which were till then appropriated to them) had been ruined by the violence of the Danes. It was totally rebuilt during ihe reign of Henry Yll, Mho gave forty oaks towards the materials : and is, to this day, the place of worship in which the public sermons are preached before the members of the university. 9 Brachirjraphy, or short-hand-writing, appears to have been much studied in our author's time, and was probably esteemed a A YOUNG RAW PREACHER. 5 His writing is more than liisreadinp:, for lie reads only what he gets without book. Thus accomplished he comes down to his friends, and his first salutation is grace and peace out of the pulpit. His prayer is conceited, and no man remembers his college more at large. 10 The pace of his sermon is a full career. fashionable accomplishment. It was first introduced into this country by Peter Bales, who, in 15!)0, published The Wridnf/ Schoolmaster, a treatise consisting of three parts, the first " of Brachjgraphie, that is, to write as fost as a man speaketh treatably, writing but one letter for a word ;" the second, of Orthography; and the third ol Calli- graphy. Imprinted at London, by T. Orwin, &c. 15fK), 4to. A second edition, "• with sundry new additions," appeared in 1597, 12mo. Im- printed at London, by George Shawe, &c. Holinshed gives the follow- ing description of one of Bales's performances : ''The tenth of August (1575,) a rare peece of worke, and almost incredible, was brought to passe by an Englishman borne in the citie of London, named Peter Bales, who by his Industrie and practise of his pen, coutriued and writ within the compasse of a penie, in Latiue, the Lord's praier, the creed, the ten commaudements, a praier to God, a praier lor the queene, his posie, his name, the dale of the moneth, the yeare of our Lord, and the reigne of the queene. And on the seuenteenthe of August next following, at Hampton court, he presented the same to the queen's maiestie, in the head of a ring of gold, couered with a christall; and presented therewith an excellent spectacle by him deuised, for the easier reading thereof: wherewith hir maiestie read all that was written therein with great admiration, and commended the same to the lords of the councell, and the ambassadors, and did weare the same manie times vpon hir finger." Holinshetrs Chronicle^ ixige 1-262, b. edit, folio. Load. 1587. 10 It is customary in all sermons delivered before the L^niversity, to use an introductory prayer for the founder of, and principal bene- factors to, the preacher's individual college, as well as for the ofticers and members of the university in general. This, however, would appear very ridiculous when'' /ieco/«^6>rfci«7i to his friends,'" or, in other words, preaches before a country congregation. This is also 6 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. and he runs wildly over liill and dale, till the clock stop him. The labour of it is chiefly in his lungs; and the only thing he has made ui^^ it himself, is the fiices. He takes on against the pope without mercy, and has a jest still in lavender for Bellarmine : yet lie preaches heresy, if it conies in his way, though with a mind, I must needs say, very orthodox. His action is ail passion, and his speech interjections. He has an excellent faculty in bemoaning the people, and spits with a very good grace. [His stile is com- pounded of twenty several men's, only his body imi- tates someone extraordinary.] He will not draw his handkercher out of his place, nor blow his nose with- out discretion. His commendation is, that he never looks upon book; and indeed he was never used to it. He preaches but once a year, though twice on Sunday; for the stuif is still the same, only the dressing a little altered : he has more tricks with a sermon, than a taylor with an old cloak, to turn it, and piece it, and at last quite disguise it with a new preface. If mentioned in Whimzies, 8vo. 1631, p 57. "lice must now l;)etake himself to prayer and devotion ; remember the founder, benefactors^ head, and members of that famous foundation : all which he performes with as much zeale as an actor after the end of a play, when hee prayes for his majestic, the lords of his most honourable privie councell, and all that love the king.'" 110/ first edit. 1628. A YOUXG RAW PREACHER. i lie liave waded farther in his profession, and would shew reading of his own, his authors are postils,i- and his school divinity a catechism. His fjishion and demure habit gets him in with some town-precisian, i-^ and makes him a guest on Friday nights. You shall know him by his narrow velvetcape, and serge facing; and his ruff, next his hair, the shortest thing about him. The conipanion of his walk is some zealous tradesman, whom he astonishes with strange points, which they both understand alike. His friends and much painfulness may prefer him to thirty pounds a year, and this means to a chambermaid ;i^ with whom we leave him now in the bonds of wedlock: — next Sunday you shall have him again. 12 Annotations. L. 13 A puritan. L. 14 Macanlay says : The relation between priests and hand-maidens was a theme for endless jest ; nor would it be easy to find in the comedy of the seventeenth century, a single instance of a clergyman who wins a spouse above the rank of a cook. Uistory of England, chap. iii. L. MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. III. A GRAVE DIVIXK ±8 one that knows the burthen of his calling, and hath studied to make his shoulders sufficient ; for which he hath not been hasty to launch forth of his port, the university, but expected the ballast of learn- ing, and the wind of opportunity. Divinity is not the beginning but the end of his studies ; to which lie takes the ordinary stair, and makes the arts his way. He counts it not prophaneness to be polished with human reading, or to smooth his way by Aris- totle to school-divinity. lie has sounded both reli- gions, and anchored in the best, and is a protestant out of judgment, not faction ; not because his country, but his reason is on this side. The ministry is his choice, not refuge, ^nd yet the pulpit not his itch, but fear. His discourse is substance, not all rhetoric, and he utters more things than words. His speech is not helped with inforced actioik, but the matter acts itself. He shoots all his meditations at one but ; and beats upon his text, not the cushion ; making his hearers, not the pulpit, groan. In citing of popish errors, he cuts them with arguments, not cudgels them with barren invectives; and labours more to shew the A GRAVE DIVIXE. \) truth of his cause than the spleen. His sermon is limited by the method, not the hourglass; and his devotion goes along with him out of the pulpit. He comes not up thrice a week, because he would not be idle; nor talks three hours together, because he would not talk nothing : but his tongue preaches at fit times, and his conversation is the every day's exercise. In matters of ceremony, he is not ceremonious, but thinks he owes that reverence to the church to bow his judg- ment to it, and make more conscience of schism, than a surplice. He esteems the church hierarchy as the church's glory, and however we jar with Rome, would not have our confusion distinguish us. In simoniacal purchases he thinks his soul goes in the bargain, and is loath to come by promotion so dear : yet his worth at length advances him, and the price of his own merit buys him a living. He is no base grater of his tythes, and will not wrangle for the odd egg. The law3er is the only man he hinders, by whom he is spited for taking up quarrels. He is a main pillar of our church, though not yet dean or canon, and his life our reli- gion's best apology, 15 His death is the last sermon, 15 I caunot forbear to close this admirahle character ^vith the heautiful description of a - poure Persone,'" rich of holy thought and tcerk, given by the fother of English poetry :— 2 10 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. where, in the pulpit of his bed, he instructs men to die by his example. IV. A MEER DVLL PHYSICIAN. JZLIS practice is some business at bedsides, and his speculation an urinal : he is distinguished from an empiric, by a round velvet cap and doctor's gown, yet no man takes degrees more superfluously, for he is doctor howsoever. He is sworn to Galen and Hippo- crates, as university men to their statutes, though they never saw them ; and his discourse is all aphorisms, " Benigne he was, and wonder diligent, And in adversite lul patient : And swiche he was ypreved often sithes. Ful loth were him to cursen for his tithes, But rather wolde he yeven out of doute. Unto his poure pnrishens aboute, Of his oflring, and eke of his substance. He coude in litel thing have sufhsance. Wide was his parish, and houses fcr asonder. But he ne left nought for no rain ne thonder, In sikenesse and in mischief to visite The ferrest in his parish, moche and lite, Upon his fete, and in his hand a staf. * * * * And though he lioly were, and vertuous, He was to sinful men not dispitous, Ne of his speche dangerous ne digne. But in his teching discrete and benigne. A MEER DULL PHYSICIAN. 11 16 though his reading be only Alexis of Piedmont, or the Regiment of Health. i~ The best cure he has To draweu folk to hevea, with fairenesse, By good ensample, was his besinesse. * * * * He waited after no pompe ne revereuce, Ne maked him no spiced conscience, But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve. He taught, but first he folwed ithimselve." Chaucer, Prol. to Cant. Tales, v. 485. We may surely conclude with a line from the same poem, " A better preest I trowe that nowher nou is." 16 The secretes of the reverencle maister Alexis of Piemovnt, con- tainyng exccllente remedies against diuers diseases, &c., appear to have been a very favourite study either with the physicians, or their patients, about this period. They were originally written in Italian, ard were translated into English by William Warde, of which editions were printed at Loudon, in 1558, 1.562, 1505, and 1615. Inl603, ii fourth edition of a Latin version appeared at Basil; and from Ward's dedication to '"the lorde Russell, erle of Bedford," it seems that the French and Dutch were not without so great a treasure in their own languages. A specimen of the importance of this publication may be given in the title of the first secret. "The maner and secrete to conserue a man's youth, and to holde back olde age, to maintaine a man always in helth and strength, as in the fayrest floure of his yeres." 17 The Regiment of Ilelthe by Thomas Paynell, is another volume of the same description, and was printed by Thomas Bertholette, in 1541. 4to. From a subsequent edition, obligingly pointed out to me by the rev. Mr. arch-deacon Nares, I find that this also is a translation : Jiegimen Sanitatis Salerni. This booke teachyng allj^eopleto gouernethein health is translated out of the Latine tongue into En glishe, by Thomas Paynell, ivhiche booke is amended, augmented, and diligently im- 2winted. 1575. Colophon. 1 Jmj)rynted at London, by Wylliam Hotv, for Abraham TJeale. The prefiice says, that it was compiled for the use " of the moste noble and victorious kynge of England, and of Faunce,byall the doctours in Phisickeofthe UuiuersiLie of Salerne." 12 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. done, is upon his own purse, which from a lean sick- liness he hath made lusty, and in flesh. His learning consists much in reckoning up the hard names of diseases, and the superscriptions of gally-pots in his apothecary's shop, which are ranked in his shelves and the doctor's memory. He is, indeed, only lan- guaged in diseases, and speaks Greek many times when he knows not. If he have been but a by-stander at some desperate recovery, he is slandered with it though he be guiltless; and this breeds his reputation, and that his practice, for his skill is merely opinion. Of all odours he likes best the smell of urine, and holds Vespasian's^'^ rule, that no gain is unsavory. If you send this once to him you must resolve to be sick howsoever, for he will never leave examining your water, till he has shaked it into a disease :^^ then follows a writ to his drugger in a strange 18 Vespasian, tenth emperor of Rome, imposed a tax upon urine, and when his son Titus remonstrated with him on the meanness of the act," Peeuniam," says Suetouius,"ex prima pensione admovitad nares, suscitans riiim odore offencleretur .^ et illo negante, atqui, inquit e lotio est." 19 " Vpon the market-daj' he is mncli haunted with vrinals, where, if he tinde anj- thing, (though he Icnowe nothing,) yet hee will say some-what, which if it hit to some purpose, with a fewe fustian words, hec will seeme a piece of strange stuffe." Character of an unworthy physician. '"'•The Good and the Badde,'''' by Nicholas Bre- ton. 4to. 1G18. A MEER DULL PHYSICIAN. 13 tongue, which he understands, though he cannot conster. If he see you himself, his presence is the worst visitation : for if he cannot heal your sickness he will be sure to help it. He translates his apothe- cary's shop into your chamber, and the very windows and benches must take physic. He tells you your malady in Greek, though it be but a cold, or head- ach ; which by good endeavour and diligence he may bring to some moment indeed. His most unfaithful act is, that he leaves a man gasping, and his pretence is, death and he have a quarrel and must not meet ; but his fear is, lest the carkass should bleed. -^' Anatomies, and other spectacles of mortality, have hardened him, and he is no more struck with a funeral than a grave-maker. Noble- men use him for a director of their stomach, and ladies for wantonness,- ^ especially if he be a proper 20 That the murdered body bleeds at the approach of the murderer, was, in our author's time, a commonly received opinion. Holius- hed affirms that the corps of Henry the Sixth bled as it was carrying for interment ; and Sir Kenelm Digby so firmly believed in the truth of the report, that he has endeavoured to explain the reason. It is remarked by Mr. Stcevens, in a note to Shakespeare, that the opinion seems to be derived from the ancient Swedes, or Northern nations, from whom we descend ; as they practised this method of trial in all dubious cases. 21 "• Faith, doctor, it is well, thy study is to please The female sex, and how their corp'rall griefes to ease." Goddard's Mastif Whelp. Satires. 4to. Without date. Sat. 17. 14 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. man. 22 If he be single, he is in league with his she- apothecary; and because it is the physician, the husband is patient. If he have leisure to be idle (that is to study,) he has a smatcli at alcumy, and is sick of the philosopher's stone ; a disease uneurable, but by an abundant phlebotomy of the purse. His two main opposites are a mountebank and a good woman, and he never shews his learning so much as in an invective against them and their boxes. In conclusion, he is a sacking consumption, and a very brother to the worms, for they are both in gendered out of man's corruption. AN ALDERMAN. JLXE is venerable in his gown, more in his beard, wherewith he sets not forth so much his own, as the face of a city. You must look on him as one of the town gates, and consider him not as a body, but a corporation. His eminency above others hath made him a man of worship, for he had never been pre- ferred, but that he was worth thousands. He over- 22 Proper for handsome. AN ALDERMAN. 15 sees the commonwealth, as his shop, and it is an argument of his policy, that he has thriven by his craft. He is a rigorous magistrate in his ward ; yet his scale of justice is suspected, lest it be like the balances in his warehouse. A ponderous man he is> and substantial, for his weight is commonly ex- traordinary, and in his preferment nothing rises so much as his belly. His head is of no great depth, yet well furnished; and when it is in conjunction with his brethren, may bring forth a city apophthegm, or some such sage matter. He is one that will not hastily run into error, for he treads with great de- liberation, and his judgment consists much in his pace. His discourse is commonly the annals of his mayoralty, and what good government there was in the days of his gold chain, though the door posts were the only things that suffered reformation. 23 He seems most sincerely religious, especially on solemn days ; for he comes often to church to make a 23 It was usual for public officers to have painted or gilded posts at their doors, on which proclamations, and other documents of that description, were placed, in order to he read by the populace. See various allusions to this custom, in Seed's Shakspeare, v. 207. Old Plays, iii. 303. The reformation means that they were, in the lan- guage of our modern churchwardens, "repaired and beautified," dur- ing the reign of our alderman. 16 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. shew, [and is a part of the quire hangings.] He is the highest stair of his profession, and an example to his trade, what in time they may come to. He makes very much of his authority, but more of his sattin doublet, which, though of good years, bears its age very well, and looks fresh every Sunday : but his scarlet gown is a monument, and lasts from VI. A DISCONTENTED MAN As one that is fallen out with the world, and will be revenged on himself. Fortune has denied him in something, and he now takes pet, and will be miser- able in spite. The root of his disease is a self- humouring pride, and an accustomed tenderness not to be crossea in his fancy; and the occasion com- monly of one of these three, a hard father, a peevish wench, or his ambition thwarted. He considered not the nature of the world till he felt it, and all blows fall on him heavier, because they light not first on his expectation. He has now foregone all but his pride, and is yet vain-glorious in the ostenta- tion of his melancholy. His composure of himself A DISCONTENTED MAN. 17 is a studied carelessness, with his arms across, and a neglected hanging of his head and cloak ; and he is as great an enemy to an hat-band, as fortune. He quarrels at the time and up-starts, and sighs at the neglect of men of parts, that is, such as himself. His life is a perpetual satyr, and he is still girding-^ the age's vanity, when this very anger shews he too much esteems it. He is much displeased to see men merry, and wonders what they can find to laugh at. He nevers draws his own lips higher than a smile, and frowns wrinkle him before forty. He at last falls into that deadly melancholy to be a bitter hater of men, and is the most apt companion for any mischief. He is the spark that kindles the common- wealth, and the bellows himself to blow it : and if he turn any thing, it is commonly one of these, either friar, traitor, or mad-man. 24 To gird, is to sneer at, or scorn any one. Falstaflf says, "men of all sorts take a pride to r/ircl at vac,''''— Henry IV, Part 2, ^ 18 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. VII. AN ANTIQUARY, ■ JlLe is a man strangly thrifty of time past, and an enemy indeed to his maw, whenee he fetches out many things wlien they are now all rotten and stinking. lie is one that hath that unnatural disease to be enamoured of old age and wrinkles, and loves all things (as Dutchmen do cheese,) the better for being mouldy and worm-eaten. He is of our religion, because we say it is mostantient; and yet a broken statue would almost make him an idolater. A great admirer he is of the rust of old monuments, and reads only those characters, where time hath eaten out the letters. He will go you forty miles to see a saint's well or a ruined abbey; and there be but a cross or stone foot-stool in the way, he'll be considering it so long, till he forget his journey. His estate consists much in shekels, and Roman coins ; and he hath more pictures of Caesar, than James or Elizabeth. Beggars cozen him with musty things which they have raked from dunghills, and he preserves there lU-^'^- rags for precious relicks. He loves no library, but AX ANTIQUARY. 19 where there are more spiders volumes than authors, and looks with great admiration on the antique work of cobwebs. Printed books he contemns, as a novelty of this latter age, but a manuscript he pores on ever- lastingly, especially if the cover be all moth-eaten, and the dust make a parenthesis between every syllable. 25 He would give all the books in his study (which are rarities all,) for one of the old Roman binding, or six lines of Tully in his own hand. His chamber is hung commonly with strange beast skins, and is a kind of charnel-house of bones extraordinary; and his discourse upon them, if you will hear him, shall last longer. His very attire is that which is the eldest out of fashion, [^and i/on mof/ pick a criticism out of his hrecchcs.'] He never looks upon himself till he is grey-haired, and then he is pleased with his own antiquity. His grave does not fright him, for he has been used to sepulchers, and he likes death the better, because it gathers him to his fathers. 25 "Time has eaten out the letters, and the dust makes a parenthesis between each syllable." The Antiquarij, by Marmion. Old Plays. X. 6-2. L. * In the first edition it stands thus :— '• and his hat is as antient as the toicerof Babel.'' 20 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. VIIT. A YOUXGER BROTHER. JtllS eUler brother was the Esau, that came out first and left him like Jacob at his heels. His father has done with him, as Pharoah to the children of Israel, that would have them make brick and give them no straw, so he tasks him to be a gentleman, and leaves him nothing to maintain it. The pride of his house has undone him, which the elder's knighthood must sustain, and his beggary that knighthood. His birth and bringing up will not suffer him to descend to the means to get wealth; but he stands at the mercy of the world, and which is worse, of his brother. He is something better than the serving-men ; yet they more saucy with him than he bold with the master, who beholds him with a countenance of stern awe, and checks him oftener than his liveries. His brother's old suits and he are much alike in request, and cast off now and * then one to the other. Nature hath furnished him with a little more wit upon compassion, for it is like to be his best revenue. If his annuity stretch so far, he is sent to the university, and with great A YOUNGER BROTHER. 21 heart'burniDg takes upon him the ministry, as a profession he is condemmed to b"y his ill fortune. Others take a more crooked path yet, the king's high- way ; where at length their vizard is plucked off, and they strike fair for Tyburn : -f' but their brother's pride, not love, gets them a pardon. His last refuge is the Low-countries,-" where rags and lice are no scandal, where he lives a poor gentleman of a company, ajid dies without a shirt. The only thing that may better his fortunes is an art he has to make a gentle- woman, wherewith he baits now and then some rich widow that is hungry after his blood. He is com- monly discontented and desperate, and the form of his exclamation is, tluit churl my hrothcr. He loves not his country for this unnatural 26 Thus Macaulay speaking of the highway-man of a later day, says : Some times he was a man of good family and education. History of England^ I, chap. iii. L. 27 The Low-countries appear to have afforded ample room for ridicule at all times. In " A brief Character of the Lmv- countries under the States, being Three Weeks Observation of the Vices and Virtues of the Inhabitants, written by Owen Felltham, and printed Lond. 1659, l"2rao. ^we find them epitomized as a general sea-land— the great bog of Europe— an universal quag- mire — in short, a green cheese in pickle. The sailors (in which denomination the anther appears to include all the natives,) he describes as being able to " drink, rail, swear, niggle, steal, and be loivsie alike.'" P. 40. 22 MICROCOSMOGRAPHr. custom, and would have long since revolted to the Spaniard, but for Keut-"^ o^^Jj which he holds in admiration. IX. A MEER FORMAL MAX XS somewhat more than the shape of a man; for he has his length, breadth, and colour. "When you have seen his outside, you have looked through him, and need employ your discovery no farther. His reason is merely example, and his action is not guided by his understanding, but he sees other men do thus, and he follows them. He is a negative, for we cannot call him a wise man, but not a fool; nor an honest man, but not a knave; nor a protestant 28 GavelkiniU or the practice of dividing lands equally among all the male children of the deceased, was (according to Spelman,) adopted hy the Saxons, from Germany and is noticed by Tacitus in his description of that nation. Gloss Archaiol. folio, Loud. 1GC4. Har- rison, in The Description of England, prefixed to Ilolinshed^s Chronicle, (vol. i. page 180,) says, "Gauell kind is all the male child- ren equallie to inherit, and is continued to this date in /ie«<, where it is onelie to my knowledge retried, and no where else in Eng- land.'" And Lambarde, in his Uustomes of Kent, {Perambulation^ 4to. 1596, page 538.) thus notices it: — "The custom of Grauelkynde is generall,and spreadeth itselfe throughout the whole shj're, into all laudes subiect by auncient tenure vnto the same, such places onely excepted, where it is altered by acte of parlearaeut." A MEER FORMAL MAN. 23 but not a papist. The chief burden of his brain is the carriage of his body and the setting of his face in a good frame; which he performs the better, because he is not disjointed with other meditations. His religion is a good quiet subject, and he prays as he swears, in the phrase of the land. He is a fair guest, and a fjiir inviter, and can excuse his good cheer in the accustomed apology. He has some faculty in mangling of a rabbit, and the distribution of his morsel to a neighbour's trencher. He appre- hends a jest by seeing men smile, and laughs orderly himself, when it comes to his turn. His businesses with his friends are to visit them, and whilst the business is no more, he can perform this well enough. His discourse is the news that he hath gathered in his walk, and for other matters his discretion is, that he will only what he can, that is, say nothing. His life is like one that runs to the church- walk '■^'' to take a turn or two, and so passes. He hath staid in the world to fill a number ; and when he is gone, there wants one, and there's an end. 29 Minster ivalk, 1st edit. 24 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. A CnURCII-PAPIST Xs one that parts his religion betwixt his conscience and his purse, and comes to church not to serve God but the king. The face of the hiw makes him wear the mask of the gospel, which he uses not as a means to save his soul, but charges. He loves Popery well, but is loth to lose by it; and though he be some- thing scared with the bulls of Rome, yet they are far off, and he is struck with more terror at the appari- tor. Once a month he presents himself at the church, to keep off the church-warden, and brings in his body to save his bail.-^^ He kneels with the congregation, l)ut prays by himself, and asks God forgiveness for coming thither. If he be forced to stay out a sermon, he pulls his hat over his eyes, and frowns out the hour ; and when he comes home, thinks to make amends for this fault by abusing the preacher. His main policy is to shift off the communion, for which he is never unfurnished of a quarrel, and will be sure to be out of charity at Easter; and indeed he lies not, for he 30 Bj'^ a law enacted under Elizabeth the penalty of imprisonment was imposed on all persons absenting themselves from church for the space of one month — Hallam, Const. Hist. /, 215. L. A CHURCH-PAPIST. 2o has a quarrel to the sacrament. He would make a bad martyr and good traveller, for his conscience is so large he could never wander out of it; and in Constantinople would be circumcised with a reserva- tion. His wife is more zealous and therefore more costly, and he bates her in tires^' what she stands him in religion. 22 But we leave him hatching plots against the state, and expecting Spinola."^'^ 31 The word tire is probably here used as an abbreviation of the word attire, address, ornament. 32 " Many indeed, especially of the female sex, whose religion, lying commonly more in sentiment then reason, is less ductile to the sophisms of worldly wisdom stood out and endured the penalties." — Hallam, Const. Hist. /, 159. L. .33 Ambrose Spinola was one of the most celebrated and excellent commanders that Spain ever possessed : he was born, in 15G9, of a noble family, and distinguished himself through life in being opposed to prince Maurice of Nassau, the greatest general of his age, by whom he was ever regarded with admiration and respect. He died in 1630, owing to a disadvantage sustained by his troops at the siege of Cassel, which was to be entirely attributed to the imprudent orders he received from Spain, and which that government compelled him to obey. This disaster broke his heart; and he died with the ex- clamation of " thei/ have robbed me of mxj honour ; " an idea he was unable to survive. It is probable that, at the time this character was composed, many of the disaffected in England were in expecta- tion of an attack to be made on this country by the Spaniards, under the command of Spinola. 26 MICROCOSMOGRAPIIY. XL A SELF-CONCEITED MAN XS one that knows himself so well, that he does not know himself. Two excellent well-dones have undone him, and he is guilty of it that first com- mended him to madness. He is now become his own book, which he pores on continually, yet like a truant reader skips over the harsh places, and surveys only that which is pleasant. In the specu- lation of his own good parts, his eyes, like a drunkard's, see all double, and his fancy, like an old man's spectacles, make a great letter in a small print. He imagines every place where he comes his theater, and not a look stirring but his specta- tor; and conceives men's thoughts to be very idle, that is [only] busy about him. His walk is still in the fashion of a march, and like his opinion unac- companied, with his eyes most fixed upon his own person, or on others with reflection to himself. If he have done any thing that has past with applause, he is always re-acting it alone, and conceits the extasy his hearers were in at every period. His discourse is all positions and definitive decrees. A SELF-CONCEITED MAN. 27 witli thus it must he and thus it is, and lie will not humble his authority to prove it. His teneut is always singular and aloof from the vulgar as he can, from which you must not hope to wrest him. He has an excellent humour for an heretick, and in these days made the first Arminian. He prefers Ramus before Aristotle, and Paracelsus before Galen, 3^ [and whosoever loith most paradox is com- mended.'] He much pities the world that has no more insight in his parts, when he is too well dis- covered even to this very thought. A flatterer is a dunce to him, for he can tell him nothing but what he knows before: and yet he loves him too, because he is like himself. Men are merciful to him, and let him alone, for if he be once driven from his humour, he is like two inward friends fallen out: his own bitter enemy and discontent presently makes a murder. In sum, he is a bladder blown up with wind, which the least flaw crushes to nothing. 3~i and LijMus his hopping stile before either Tally or Quintilian. First edit. 28 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. XII. .1 TOO IDLY RESERVED MAN XS one that is a fool with discretion, or a strange piece of politician, that manages the state of him- self. His actions are his privy-council, wherein no man must partake beside. He speaks under rule and prescription, and dare not shew his teeth with- out 3Iachiavel. He converses with his neighbours as he would in Spain, and fears an inquisitive man as much as the inquisition. He suspects all questions for examinations, and thinks yuu would pick, some- thing out of him, and avoids you. His breast is like a gentlewoman's closet, which locks up every toy or trifle, or some bragging mountebank that makes every stinking thing a secret. He delivers you common matters with great conjuration of silence, and whispers you in the ear acts of parlia- ment. You may as soon wrest a tooth from him as a paper, and whatsoever he reads is letters. He dares not talk of great men for fear of bad com- ments, and he knoics not Jiow his words may he misap- plied. Ask his opinion, and he tells you his doubt; and he never hears any thing more astonishedly A TOO IDLY RESERVED MAN. 29 than what he knows before. His words are like the cards at primivist,'^^ where 6 is 18, and 7, 21 ; for they never signify what they sound ; but if he tell you he will do a thing, it is as much as if he swore he would not. He is one, indeed, that takes all men to be craftier then they are, and puts himself to a great deal of affliction to hinder their plots and designs, where they mean freely. He has been long a riddle himself, but at last finds Qlldipuses ; 35 Primivist and primero were, in all probability, the same game, although Minshew, in his Dictionary, calls them '•'•two games at cardes." The latter fie explains, " primum et primum visum, that is, first and first scene, because hee that can shew such an order of cardes, first winnes the game." The coincidence between Mr. Struit's de- scription of the former and the passage in the text, shews that there could be little or no difference between the value of the cards in these games, or in the manner of playing them. " Each player had four cards dealt to him, one by one, the seven was the highest card, in point of number, that he could avail himself of, which counted for twenty-one, the six counted for sixteen, the five for fifteen, and the ace for the same," &c. (Sports and Pastimes, 247.) The honourable Daincs Barrington conceived ihat Primero was introduced by Philip the Second, or some of his suite, whilst in England. Shakspeare proves that it was played in the royal circle. " I left him (Henry VIII.) at Primero With the duke of Suffolk." Renfy YIIT. So Decker: "Talke of none but lords and such ladies with whom you have plaid at Primero.''''— GuVs Uorne-booke, 1600. 37. Among the marquis of Worcester's celebrated '■'•Century of Inven- tions,'" 12mo. l(i()3, is one " so contrived without suspicion, that plaj-^- ing at Primero at cards, one may, without clogging his memory, keep reckoning of all sixes, sevens, and aces, which he hath dis- carded."— No. 87. 30 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. for his over-acted dissimulation discovers him, and men do with him as they would with Hebrew letters, spell him backwards and read him. XIII. A TAVERN- As a degree, or (if you will,) a pair of stairs above an ale-house, where men are drunk with more credit and apology. If the vintner's nose"^'^ be at door, it is a sign sufficient, but the absence of this is sup- plied by the ivy-bush : the rooms are ill breathed like the drinkers that have been washed well over night, and are smelt-to fasting next morning; not furnished with beds apt to be defiled, but more necessary implements, stools, table, and a chamber- pot. It is a broacher of more news then hogsheads, and more jests than news, which are sucked up here by some spungy brain, and from thence squeezed into a comedy. Men come here to make merry, but indeed make a noise, and this musick above is answered with the clinkin"; below. The drawers are 36 ''Enquire out those tauernes which are best customd, whose maisters are oftenest drunk, for that confirrues their taste, and that they choose wholesome wines."— Z>ecA;e7'''5 Gufs Horne-hoolce^ 1G09. A TAVERN. 31 the civilest people in it, men of good bringing up, and howsoever we esteem of them, none can boast more justly of their high calling. 'Tis the best theater of natures, where they are truly acted, not played, and^ the business as in the rest of the world up and down, to wit, from the bottom of the cellar to the great chamber. A melancholy man would find here matter to work upon, to see heads as brit- tle as glasses, and often broken; men come hitherto quarrel, and come hither to be made friends: and if Plutarch will lend me his simile, it is even Tele- phus's sword-^' that makes wounds and cures them. It is the common consumption of the afternoon, and the murderer or maker-awayof a rainy day. It is the torrid zone that scorches ^^e^s face, and tobacco the gun-powder that blows it up. Much harm would be done, if the charitable vintner had not water ready for these flames. A house of sin you may call it, but not a house of darkness, for the candles are never out; audit is like those countries far in the North, where it is as clear at mid-night as 37 Teleplnis had been wounded by Achilles and was told by the oracle that only he who wounded could cure him. Achilles after- ward healed the wound by means of the rust of the spear which had inflicted it. L. 38 Ms, First edit. 32 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. at mid-day. After a long sitting, it becomes like a street in a dashing shower, where the spouts are flushing above, and the conduits running below, while the Jordans like swelling rivers overflow their banks. To give you the total reckoning of it; it is the busy man's recreation, the idle man's business, the melancholy man's sanctuary, the stranger's wel- come, the inns-of-court man's entertainment, the scholar's kindness, and the citizen's courtesy. It is the study of sparkling wits, and a cup of canary"^" their book, whence we leave them. 39 The editor of the edition in 1732, has altered canary to "«Acr- ry," for what reason I am at a loss to discover, and have connequently restored the reading of the first edition. Veuner gives the following description of this favonrite liquor. "Canarie-wiue, which beareth the name of the islands from whence it is brought, is of some termed a sacke, with this adjunct, sweete; but yet very improperly, for it difiereth not only from sacke in sweetness and pleasantness of taste, but also in colour and consistence, for it is not so white in colour as sack, nor so thin in substance ; wherefore it is more nutritive than sack, and less penetrative." Via recta ad Vitam longum. 4to. 1»)2'2. In HowelPs time, Canary wine was much adulterated. "I think," says he, in one of his Letters, "there is more Canary brought into England than to all the world besides ; 1 think also, there is a hundred times more drunk under the name of Canary wine, than there is brought in ; for Sherries and Malagas, well mingled, pass for Canaries in most taverns. When Sacks and Cana- ries," he C(mtinues, "were brought in first amongst us, they were used to be drunk in aqua vitie measures, and 'twas held fit only for those to drink who were used to carry their legs in their hands, their eyesxipon their noses, and an almanack in their bones ; but now they go down every one's throat, both young and old, like milk." Howell, Letter to the lord Cliff, dated Oct. 7, 1034. A SHARK. 33 XIV. A SHARK XiS one whom all other means have failed, and he now lives of himself. He is some needy cashiered fellow, whom the world hath oft flung off, j^et still clasps again, and is like one a drowning, fastens upon any thing that is next at hand. Amongst other of his shipwrecks he has happily lost shame, and this want supplies him. No man puts his brain to more use than he, for his life is a daily invention, and each meal a new stratagem. He has an excellent memory for his acquaintance, though there passed but lioio do you betwixt them seven years ago, it shall sufl5ce for an embrace, and that for money. He offers you a pottle of sack out of joy to see you, and in requital of his courtesy you can do no less than pay for it. He is fumbling with his purse-strings, as a school- boy with his points, when he is going to be whip- ped, 'till the master, weary with long stay, forgives him. When the reckoning is paid, he says, It must not be so, yet is strait pacified, and cries, "What rem- edy ? His borrowings are like subsidies, each man a shilling or two, as he can well dispend; which they 5 34 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. lend him, not with a hope to be repaid, but that he will come no more. lie holds a strange tyranny over men, for he is their debtor, and they fear him as a creditor. He is proud of any employment, though it be but to carry commendations, which he will be sure to deliver at eleven of the clock.'" They in courtesy bid him stay, and he in manners cannot deny them. If he find but a good look to assure his welcome, he becomes their half-boarder, and haunts the threshold so long 'till he forces good nature to the necessity of a quarrel. Publick invita- tions he will not wrong with his absence, and is the best witness of the sheriff's hospitality. ' ' Men shun him at length as they would do an infection, and he is never crossed in his way if there be but a lane to 40 We learn from Harrison's Description of England, prefixed to Bo\\ui^hed,i\mi eleven o'clock was the uf^ual time for dinner during the reign of Elizabeth. " With vs the nobilitie, gentrie, and students, doo ordinarilie go to dinner at eleiien before noone, and to supper at flue, or between tiue and ^•ix at afternoone.'" (vol. i. page 171. edit. 1587.) Tlie alteration in manners at this time is rather singularly evinced, from a passage immediately following the above quotation, where we find that merchants and husbandmen dined and supped at a later hour than the jwbility. 41 Alluding to the public dinners given by the sheriff at particular seasons of the year. So in The Widoir, a comedy, 4to. 1652. " And as at a sheriff's table. O blest custome ! A poor indebted gentleman may dine, Feed well, and without fear, and depart so.'' A CARRIER. 35 escape him. He has done with tlie age as his clothes to him, hung on as long as he could, and at last drops off. XV. A CARRIER As his own hackney-man ; for he lets himself out to travel as well as his horses. He is the ordinary embassador between friend and friend, the father and the son, and brings rich presents to the one, but never returns any back again. He is no unlet- tered man, though in shew simple; for questionless, he has much in his bu«lget, whicli he can utter too in fit time and place. He is [like] the vault'- in 42 The chapel of the Virgin Mary, in the cathedral church of Glou- cester, was founded by Richard Stanley, abbot, in 1457, and finished by William Farley, a monk of the monasterj', in 1472. Sir Robert Atkyns gives the following description of the vault here alluded to. '■'■The 7vhLy)enng place is very remarkable ; it is a long alley, from one side of the choir to the other, built circular, that it might not darken the great east window of the choir. When a person whis- pers at one end of the alley, his voice is heard distinctly at the other end, though the passage be open in the middle, having large spaces for doors and windows on the east side. It may be imputed to the close cement of the wall, which makes it as one entire stone, and 80 conveys the voice, as a long piece of timber does convey the least stroak to the other end. Others assign it to the repercussion of the voice from accidental angles." Atkym^ Ancient and Present State of Glostershire. Lond. 1712, folio, page 128. See also Fuller's Worthies, in Gloucestershire, page 351. 36 MICROCOSMOGRAPIIY. Gloster cluirch, that conveys whispers at a distance, for he takes the sound out of your mouth at York, and makes it be heard as far as London. He is the young student's joy and expectation, and the most accepted guest, to whom they lend a willing hand to discharge liim of his burden. His first greeting is commonly, Your friends are well ; [and to j^i'ove i7]'^* in a piece of gold delivers their blessing. You would think him a churlish blunt fellow, but they find in him many tokens of humanity. He is a great afflicter of the high-ways, and beats them out of measure; which injury is sometimes revenged by the purse-taker, and then the voyage miscarries. No man domineers more in his inn, nor calls his ho.st unreverently with more presumption, and this arrogance proceeds out of the strength of his horses. He forgets not his lead where he takes his ease, for he is drunk commonly before he goes to bed. He is like the prodigal child, still packing away and still returning again. But let him pass. 43 Then in ajneceof gold, etc. First edit. A YOUNG MAN. 37 XVI. A YOUNG MAN; JjLe is now out of nature's protection, though not yet able to guide himself; but left loose to the world and fortune, from which the weakness of his child- hood preserved him; and now his strength exposes him. He is, indeed, just of age to be miserable, yet in his own conceit first begins to be happy; and he is happier in this imagination, and his misery not felt is less. He sees yet but the outside of the world and men, and conceives them, according to their ap- pearing, glister, and out of this ignorance believes them. He pursues all vanities for happiness, and^' [e/i- Joi/s them best in this fancy.'] His reason serves, not to curb but understand his appetite, and prosecute the motions thereof with a more eager earnestness. Him- self is his own temptation, and needs not Satan, and the world will come hereafter. He leaves re- pentance for grey hairs, and performs it in being covetous. He is mingled with the vices of the age as the fashion and custom, with which he longs to be acquainted, and sins to better his understanding. 44 Whiht he has not yet got them, enjoys them. First edit. 38 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. He conceives his youth as the season (jf his lust, and the hour wherein he ought to be bad -, and be- cause he would not lose his time, spends it. He distastes religion as a sad thing, and is six years elder for a thought of heaven. He scorns and fears, and yet hopes for old age, but dare not imagine it with wrinkles. He loves and hates with the same inflammation, and when the heat is over is cool alike to friends and enemies. His friendship is sel- dom so stedi'ast, but that lust, drink, or anger may overturn it. He offers you his blood to-day in kind- ness, and is ready to take yours to-morrow. He does seldom any thing which he wishes not to do again, and is only wise afiter a misfortune. He suffers much for his knowledge, and a great deal of folly it is makes him a wise man. He is free from many vices, by being not grown to the performance, and is only more vertu- ous out of weakness. Every action is his danger, and every man his ambush. He is a ship without pilot or tackling, and only good fortune may steer him. If he scape this age, he has scaped a tempest, and may live to be a man. AN OLD COLLEGE BUTLER. 39 XVII. AX OLD COLLEGE BUTLER AS none of the worst students in the house, for he keeps the set hours at his book more duly than any. His authority is great over men's good names, which he charges many times with shrewd aspersions, which they hardly wipe off without payment. [His box and counters prove him to be a man of reckoning, yet] he is stricter in his accounts than a usurer, and delivers not a farthing without writing. He doubles the pains of Gallobelgicus,''' for his books go out once a quarter, and they are much in the same nature, brief notes and sums of affiiirs, and are out of re- 45 Gallo-Belgicus was erroneously supposed, by the ingenious Mr. Reed, to be the ''first news-paper published in England ;" we are, however, assured by the author of the " Life of Ruddiman," that it has no title to so honourable a distinction. Gallo-Belgicus appears to have been rather &q Annual Register, or History of its otcn T'imes, than a newspaper. It was written in Latin, and eutitulcd, "Mer- cuRij Gallo-Belgici : sive, rerum in Gallia, et Belgio potissimxini : Hispania quoque, Italia, Anglia, Germania, Polonia, Vicinisqve locis ab anno 1588, ad Martium anni 1594, gestarvm, Nuncij." The first volume was printed in 8vo. at Cologne, 1508 ; Irom which year, to about 1G()5, it was published annually ; and Irom thence to the time of its conclusion, which is uncertain, it appeared in half-yearly vo- lumes. C/ialmers' Life of Euddiman^llQ-i. The great request in which newspapers were held at the publication of the present work, may be gathered from Burton, who, in his Anatomy of Melandioly, complains that "if any read now-a-days, it is a play-book, or a pamphlet of newes."' 40 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. quest as soon. His comings in are like a taylor's, from the shreds of bread, [the] chippings and rem- nants of a broken crust ; excepting his vails from the barrel, which poor folks buy for their hogs but drink themselves. He divides an halfpenny loaf with more subtlety than Keckerman,^^ and sub-divides the d primo ortum so nicely, that a stomach of great capacity can hardly apprehend it. He is a very sober man, considering his manifold temptations of drink and strangers; and if he be overseen, ^tis within his own liberties, and no man ought to take exception. He is never so well pleased with his place as when a gentleman is beholden to him for shewing him the buttery, whom he greets with a cup of single beer and sliced manchet,*' and tells him it is the 46 Bartholomew Keckerman was born at Dantzick, in Prussia, 1571, and educated under Fnbricius. Being eminentlj^ distinguished for his abilities and application, he was, in 1597, requested, by the senate of Dantzick, to take upon him the management of their academy ; an honour he then declined, but accepted, on a second ap- plication, in 1601. Here he proposed to instruct his pupils in the com- plete science of philosophy in the short space of three years, and, for that purpose, drew up a great number of books upon logic, rhe- toric, ethics, politics^ physics, metaphysics, geography, astronomy, &c. &c. till, as it is said, literally worn out with scholastic drudgerj^ he died at the early age of 38. 47 Of bread made of wheat we have sundrie sorts dailie brought to the table, whereof the first and most excellent is the mainchet, which we commonlie call white bread. Harrison, Description of England prefixed to^Holinshed, chap. 6. AN UPSTART COUNTRY KNIGHT. 41 fashion of the college. He domineers over freshmen when they first come to the hatch, and puzzles them with strange language of cues and cees, and some broken Latin which he has learnt at his bin. His faculties extraordinary is the warming of a pair of cards, and telling out a dozen of counters for post and pair,^"* and no man is more methodical in these busi- nesses. Thus he spends his age till the tap of it is run out, and then a fresh one is set abroach. XVIII. AN UPSTART COUNTRY KNIGHT LXS a lioUday cloivn, and differs only in the stuff of his clothes, not the stuff of himself ,'\^'^ for he bare the king's sword before he had arms to wield it; yet being once laid o'er the shoulder with a knight- hood, he finds the herald his friend. His father was a man of good stock, though but a tanner or usurer; he purchased the land, and his son the title. He 48 " Post and 2)air,'''' was a game at cards, of whicli I can give no description. The author of the Com^pleat Gamester notices it as " very much played in the West of England." See Dodsley's Old Plays, 1780. vii. 296. 49 His hoiwur was somewhat preposterous^ for he bare, etc. First edit. 6 42 MICROCOSMOGRAPIIY. has doffed off the name of a [romitn/ jWow,^^'^ but the look not so easy, and his face still bears a relish of churne-milk. He is guarded ^vith more gold lace"^^ than all the gentlemen of the country, yet his body makes his clothes still out of fashion. His house- keeping is seen much in the distinct families of dogs, and serving-men attendant on their kennels, and the deepness of their throats is the depth of his discourse. A hawk he esteems the true burden of nobility, ''-^ 50 Clown. First edit. 51 " Guarded with more gold lace. " Tlie word guarded is con- tinually used by the writers of the sixteenth century iov fringed or adorned. See Reed's Slialcipeare, vii. 272. Old Plai/s, iv. m. 52 The art of hawking; has been no frequently and so fully explained, that it would be superrtuous, if not arr()rint from the exact- ness of the folds. So in Mynshul's Essays, 4to. 1G18. " I vndertooke a warre Avhen I aduentured to speak in jrnnt, (not in ])rlnt as Pur i- tafi's ruffes are set.)" The term of Geneva lyrint probably arose from the minuteness of the tj'pe used at Geneva. In the Merry Devil 72 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. linnen. She has heard of the rag of Rome, and thinks it is a very sluttish religion, and rails at the whore of Babylon for a very naughty woman. She has left her virginity as a relick of popery, and mar- ries in her tribe without a ring. Her devotion at the church is much in the turning up of her eye; and turning down the leaf in her book, when she hears named chapter and verse. AVhen she comes home, she commends the sernjon for the scripture, and two hours. She loves preaching better than praying, and of preachers, lecturers; and thinks the week day's exercise far more edifying than the Sun- day's. Her oftest gossipings are sabbath-day's journeys, where, (though an enemy to superstition,) she will go in pilgrimage five mile to a silenced minister, when there is a better sermon in her own parish. She doubts of the virgin Mary's salvation. of Edmonton^ a comedy, 4to. 1608, is an expression which goes some way to prove the correctness of this supposition : — "I see by thy eyes thou hast bin reading little Genena jyriixt ; "—and, WiSiX. small niffs were worn by the puritanical set, an instance appears in Mayne's City Match, a comedy, 4to. 1658. -^ — • " O miracle! Out of your little ruffe, Dorcas, and in the fashion ! Dost thou hope to be saved ? " From these three extracts it is, I think, clear that a ruff of Geneva ^riHi! meant a small, closely folded ruff, which was the distinction of a non-conformist. A SHE PRECISE HYPOCRITE. 73 and dares not saint her, but knows her own place in heaven.as perfectly as the pew she has a key to. She is so taken up with faith she has no room for charity, and understands no good works but what are wrought on the sampler. She accounts nothing vices but su- perstition and an oath, and thinks adultery a less sin than to swear hy my truly. She rails at other women by the names of Jezebel and Dalilah; and calls her own daughters Rebecca and Abigail, and not Ann but Hannah. She suffers them not to learn on the virginals,'^ because of their affinity with organs, but is reconciled to the bells for the chimes sake, since they were reformed to the tune of a psalm. She overflows so with the bible, that she spills it upon every occasion, and will not cudgel her maids without scripture. It is a question whether she is more troubled with the Devil, or the Devil with her: She is always challenging and daring him, and her weapon [is The Practice of Pie- ty.''^''] Nothing angers her so much as that women 74 A virginal, says Mr. Malone, was strung like a spinnet and shaped like a piano-forte : the mode of playing on this instrument was therefore similar to that of the organ. 75 Weapons are spells no less potent than different^ as being the sage sentences of some of her own sectai^ies. First edit. 10 74 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. cannot preach, and in this point only thinks the Brownist erroneous ; but what she cannot at th^church she does at the table, where she prattles more than any against sense and Antichrist, 'till a capon's wing silence her. She expounds the priests of Baal, read- ing ministers, and thinks the sanation of that parish as desperate as the Turks. She is a main derider to her capacity of those that are not her preachers, and censures all sermons but bad ones. If her husband be a tradesman, she helps him to customers, howsoever to good cheer, and they are a most faith- ful couple at these meetings, for they never fail. Her conscience is like others lust, never satisfied, and you might better answer Scotus than her scruples. She is one that thinks she performs all her duties to God in hearing, and shews the fruits of it in talking. She is more fiery against the may-pole'''^ than her husband, and thinks she might do a Phineas''^act to break the pate of the fidler. She is an everlasting argument, but I am weary of her. 76 For illustrations of the hatred of the Puritans against may- poles, see Brand's Popular Antiquities, I. 245, See also Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, 261. L, Ti Numbers xxv. 6. L. A SCEPTICK IN RELIGION. 75 XXXV. A SCEPTICK IN RELIGION As one that hangs in the balance with all sorts of opinions, whereof not one but stirs him and none sways him. A man guiltier of credulity than he is taken to be; for it is out of his belief of every thing, that he fully believes nothing. Each religion scares him from its contrary: none persuades him to itself He would be wholly a christian, but that he is something of an atheist, and wholly an atheist, but that he is partly a christian; and a perfect heretic, but that there are so many to distract him. He finds reason in all opinions, truth in none: indeed the least reason perplexes him, and the best will not satisfy him. He is at most a confused and wild christian, not specialized by any form, but capable of all. He uses the land's religion, because it is next him, yet he sees not why he may not take the other, but he chuses this, not as better, but because there is not a pin to choose. He finds doubts and scruples better than resolves them, and is always too hard for himself His learning is too much for 76 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. his brain, and his judgment too little for his learning, and his over-opinion of both, spoils all. Pity it was his mischance of being a scholar -, for it does only distract and irregulate him, and the world by him. He hammers much in general upon our opinion's uncertainty, and the possibility of erring makes him not venture on what is true. He is troubled at this naturalness of religion to countries, that protestantism should be born so in England and popery abroad, and that fortune and the stars should so much share in it. He likes not this connection of the common-weal and divinity, and fears it may be an arch-practice of state. In our differences with Rome he is strangely unfixed, and a new man every new day, as his last discourse-book's medita- tions transport him. He could like the gray hairs of popery, did not some dotages there stagger him : he would come to us sooner, but our new name af- frights him. He is taken with their miracles, but doubts an imposture; he conceives of our doctrine better, but it seems too empty and naked. He can- not drive into his fancy the circumscription of truth to our corner, and is as hardly persuaded to think their old legends true. He approves well of our A SCEPTICK IN RELIGION. 77 faith, and more of their works, and is sometimes much affected at the zeal of Amsterdam. His con- science interposes itself betwixt duellers, and whilst it would part both, is by both wounded. He will sometimes propend much to us upon the reading a good writer, and at Bellarmine'" recoils as far back again; and the fathers justle him from one side to another. Now Socinus*" and Yorstius^o afresh 78 Kobert Bellarmin, an Italian Jesuit, waa born at Monte Pulciano, a town in Tuscany, in the year 1542, and in 15G0 entered himself among the Jesuits. In 1599 he was honoured with a cardinal's hat, and in 1602 was presented with the arch bishopric of Capua: this, however, he resigned in 1005, when pope Paul V. desired to have him near himself. He was employed in the afiairs of the court of Rome till 1621, when, leaving the Vatican, he retired to a house be- longing to his order, and died September 17, in the same year. Bellarmin was one of the best controversial writers of his time ; few authors have done greater honour to their profession or opinions, and certain it is that none have ever more ably defended the cause of the Romish church, or contended in favor of the pope with greater advantage. As a proof of Bellarmin's abilities, there was scarcely a divine of any eminence among the protestants who did not attack him: Baylc aptly says, "they made his name resound every where, ut littus Hyla, Hyla, omne sonaret." 79 Faustus Socinus is so well known as the founder of the sect which goes under his name, that a few words will be sufficient. He was born in 1539, at Sienna, and imbibed his opinions from the in- struction of his uncle, who always had a high opinion of and confidence in, the abilities of his nephew, to whom he bequeathed all his papers. After living several years in the world, principally at the court of Francis de Medicis, Socinus, in 1577, went into Germany, and began to propagate the principles of his uncle, to M^hich, it is said, he made great additions and alterations of his own. In the support of hia opinions, he suffered considerable hardships, and received the greatest 78 MICROCOSMOGRAPHT. torture him, and lie agrees with none worse than himself. He puts his foot into heresies tenderly, as a cat in the water, and pulls it out again, and still something unanswered delays him; yet he bears away some parcel of each, and you may sooner pick all religions out of him than one. He cannot think so many wise men should be in error, nor so many honest men out of the way, and his wonder is double when he sees these oppose one another. He hates authority as the tyrant of reason, and you cannot anger him worse than with a father's dixit^ and yet that many are not persuaded with reason, shall authorise his doubt. In sum, his whole life is a question, and his salvation a greater, which death only concludes, and then he is resolved. insults and persecutions ; to avoid which, he retired to a place near Cracow, in Poland, where he died iu 1504, at the age of sixty-five. 80 Conrade Vorstius, a learned divine, who was peculiarly detested by the Calvinists, and who had even the honour to be attacked by king James the first, of Enghiud, was born in 1569. Being compelled, through the interposition of James's ambassador, to quit Leyden, where he had attained the divinity-chair, and several other prefer- ments, he retired to Toningen, where he died in 1622, with the strong- est tokens of piety and resignation. AN ATTORNEY. 79 XXXVI. AN ATTORNEY. XJLlS antient beginning was a blue coat, since a livery, and his hatching under a lawyer; whence, though but pen-feathered, he hath now nested for himself, and with his hoarded pence purchased an office. Two desks and a quire of paper set him up, where he now sits in state for all comers. We can call him no great author, yet he writes very much and with the infamy of the court is maintained in his libels."! He has some smatch of a scholar, and yet uses Latin very hardly ; and lest it should accuse him, cuts it off in the midst, and will not let it speak out. He is, contrary to great men, main- tained by his followers, that is, his poor country clients, that worship him more than their landlord, and be they never such churls, he looks for their courtesy. He first racks them soundly himself, and then delivers them to the lawyer for execution. His looks are very solicitous, importing much haste and 81 His style is very constant, fw it keeps still the former aforesaid ; and yet it seems he is much troubled in it, for lie is always humbly complaining— yofur poor orator. First edit. 80 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. dispatch, he is never without his hands full of busi- ness, that is — of paper. His skin becomes at last as dry as his parchment, and his face as intricate as the most winding cause. He talks statutes as fiercely as if he had mooted"^- seven years in the inns of court, when all his skill is stuck in his girdle, or in his office- window. Strife and wrangling have made him rich, and he is thankful to his benefactor, and nourishes it. If he live in a country village, he makes all his neighbours good subjects; for there shall be nothing done but what there is law for. His business gives him not leave to think of his conscience, and when the time, or term of his life is going out, for dooms- day he is secure ; for he hopes he has a trick to reverse judgment. 82TowK?o^ea termevsedin theinnesofthe court; it is the hand- ling of a case, as in the Vniuersitie their disputations, &c. So Minsheiv, who supposes it to be derived from the French, mot, ver- bum, quasi verba facere^ aid sermonem tie aliqua re habere. Mootmen are those who, having studied seven or eight years, are qualified to practise, and appear to answer to our term of barristers. A PARTIAL MAN. 81 XXXVII. A PARTIAL 31 AX XS the opposite extreme to a defamer, for the one speaks ill falsely, and the other well, and both slander the truth He is one that is still weighing men in the scale of comparisons, and puts his affections in the one balance and that sways. His friend always shall do best, and you shall rarely hear good of his enemy. He considers first the man and then the thing, and restrains all merit to what they deserve of him. Commendations he esteems not the debt of worth, but the requital of kindness; and if you ask his reason, shews his interest, and tells you how much he is beholden to that man. He is one that ties his judgment to the wheel of fortune, and they determine giddily both alike. He prefers England before other countries because he was born there, and Oxford before other universities, because he was brought up there, and the best scholar there is one of his own college, and the best scholar there is one of his friends. He is a great favourer of great persons, and his argument is still that which 11 82 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. should be antecedent; as, — he is in high place, therefore virtuous; — he is preferred, therefore worthy. Never ask his opinion, for you shall hear but his faction, and he is indifferent in nothing but conscience. Men esteem him for this a zealous af- fectionate, but they mistake him many times, for he does it but to be esteemed so. Of all men he is worst to write an history, for he will praise a Sejanus or Tiberius, and for some petty respect of his all posterity shall be cozened. XXXVIII. A TRUMPETER XS the elephant with the great trunk, for he eats nothing but what comes through this way. His profession is not so worthy as to occasion insolence, and yet no man so much puft up. His face is as brazen as his trumpet, and (which is worse,) as a fidler's from whom he differeth only in this, that his impudence is dearer. The sea of drink and much wind make a storm perpetually in his cheeks, and his look is like his noise, blustering and tem- pestuous. He was whilom the sound of war, but A VULGAK-SPIRITED MAN. 83 now of peace; yet as terrible as ever, for whereso- ever he comes they are sure to pay for it. He is the common attendant of glittering folks, whether in the court or stage, where he is always the prologue's prologue.^'-* He is somewhat in the nature of a hogshead, shrillest when he is empty; when his belly is full he is quiet enough. No man proves life more to be a blast, or himself a bubble, and he is like a counterfeit bankrupt, thrives best when he is blown up. XXXIX. A VULGAR-SPIRITED MAN JLS one of the herd of the world. One that follows merely the common cry, and makes it louder by one. A man that loves none but w^ho are publickly affected, and he will not be wiser than the rest of the town. That never owns a friend after an ill name, or some 83 The prologue to our ancient dramas was ushered in by trumpets, " Present not yotireelfe on the stage (especially at a new play) until! the quaking prologue hath (by rubbing) got cullor into his cheekes, and is ready togiue the trumpets their cue that hee's vpon point to enter." Decker's OuVs Hornbook, 1G09, p. 30. " Doe you not know that I am the prologue ? Do you not see this long blacke veluet cloke vpon my backe ? Eaue you not sounded thrice? " Heywood'si^oz/re Prentises of London. 4to. 1G15. 84 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. general imputation, thougli he knows it most un- worthy. That opposes to reason, "thus men say;" and "thus most do;" and "thus the world goes;" and thinks this enough to poise the other. That worships men in place, and those only; and thinks all a great man speaks oracles. Much taken with my lord's jest, and repeats you it all to a syllable. One that justifies nothing out of fashion, nor any opinion out of the applauded way. That thinks certainly all Spaniards and Jesuits very villains, and is still cursing the pope and Spinola. One that thinks the gravest cassock the best scholar; and the best cloaths the finest man. That is taken only with broad and obscene wit, and hisses any thing too deep for him. That cries, Chaucer for his money above all our English poets, because the voice has- gone so, and he has read none. That is much ra- vished with such a nobleman's courtesy, and would venture his life for him, because he put off his hat. One that is foremost still to kiss the king's hand, and cries, " Grod bless his majesty!" loudest. That rails on all men condemned and out of favour, and the first that says " away with the traitors!" — yet struck with much ruth at executions, and for A VULGAR-SPIRITED MAN. 85 pity to see a man die, could kill the hangman. That comes to London to see it, and the pretty things in it, and, the chief cause of his journey, the bears. That measures the happiness of the kingdom by the cheapness of corn, and conceives no harm of state, but ill trading. Within this compass too, come those that are too much wedged into the world, and have no lifting thoughts above those things; that call to thrive, to do well ; and preferment only the grace of God. That aim all studies at this mark, and shew you poor scholars as an example to take heed by. That think the prison and want a judg- ment for some sin, and never like well hereafter of a jail-bird. That know no other content but wealth, bravery, and the town pleasures; that think all else but idle speculation, and the philosophers madmen. In short, men that are carried away with all outward- nesses, shews, appearances, the stream, the people; for there is no man of worth but has a piece of singularity, and scorns something. 86 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. XL. A PLODDING STUDENT XS a kind of alchyinist or persecutor of nature, that would change the dull lead of his brain into finer metal, with success many times as unprosperous, or at least not quitting the cost, to wit, of his own oil and candles. He has a strange forced appetite to learning, and to atchieve it brings nothing but patience and a body. His study is not great but continual, and consists much in the sitting up till after midnight in a rug-gown and a night-cap, to the vanquishing perhaps of some six lines; yet what he has, he has perfect, for he reads it so long to understand it, till he gets it without book. He may with much industry make a breach into logick, and arrive at some ability in an argument; but for politer studies he dare not skirmish with them, and for poetry accounts it impregnable. His invention is no more than the finding out of his papers, and his few gleanings there; and his disposition of them is as just as the book-binders, a setting or glowing of them together. He is a great discomforter of PAUL'S WALK. 87 young students, by telling them what travel it has cost him, and how often his brain turned at phi- losophy, and makes others fear studying as a cause of duncery. He is a man much given to apothegms, which serve him for wit, and seldom breaks any jest but which belonged to some Lacedemonian or Roman in Lycosthenes.s^ He is like a dull carrier's horse, that will go a whole week together,- but never out of a foot pace; and he that sets forth on the Saturday shall overtake him. XLI. PAUL'S WALK^ XS the land's epitome, or you may call it the lesser isle of Great Britain. It is more than this, the whole world's map, which you may here discern in its perfectest motion, justling and turning. It is a 84 Conrad Walffhart (in the classical style LycostJienes) was born at Buiiacli in 1518, became a professor at Basel and died about 1562. The book referred to is a voluminous collection of anecdotes and pithy sayings made by him under the title of ApopMhegmata. L. 85 St. Paul's cathedral was, during the reigns of Elizabeth and James, a sort of exchange and publick parade, where business was transacted between merchants, and where the fashionables of the day exhibited themselves. The reader will find several allusions to this custom in the 'oarioim7n edition of Shakspeare, K. Henry IV. 8« MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. heap of stones and men, with a vast confusion of languages; and were the steeple not sanctified, nothing liker Babel. The noise in it is like that of bees, a strange humming or buzz mixed of walking tongues and feet: it is a kind of still roar or loud whisper. It is the great exchange of all discourse, and no business whatsoever but is here stirring and a-foot. It is the synod of all pates politick, jointed and laid together in most serious posture, and they are not half so busy at the parliament. It is the antick of tails to tails, and backs to backs, and for vizards you need go no farther than faces. It is the market of young lecturers, whom you may cheapen here at all rates and sizes. It is the general mint of all famous lies, which are here like the legends of popery, first coined and stamped in the church. All inventions are emptied here, and not few pockets. The best part 2. Osborne, in his Traditional Memotres on the Reigns of Eliza- beth andJames, 12ino. 1658, says, "It was the fashion of those times (James I.) and did so continue till these, (the interregnum,) for the principal gentry, lords, courtiers, and men of all professions, not merely mechanicks, to meet in St. PauVs church by eleven, and walk in the middle isle till twelve, and after dinner from three to six ; during which time some discoursed of business, others of news." Weever complains of the practice, and says, " it could be wished that walking in the middle isle of Paules might be forborne in the time of diuine seruice." Ancient Funeral Monuments, 1631, page 373. Paul's walk. 89 sign of a temple in it is, that it is the tliieves sanc- tuary, which rob more safely in the crowd than a wilderness, whilst every searcher is a bush to hide them. It is the other expence of the day, after plays, tavern, and a bawdy-house; and men have still some oaths left to swear here. It is the ear's brothel, and satisfies their lust and itch. The visitants are all men without exceptions, but the principal in- habitants and possessors are stale knights and captains'^^ out of service ; men of long rapiers and breeches, which after all turn merchants here and traffick for news. Some make it a preface to their dinner, and travel for a stomach ; but thriftier men make it their ordinary, and board here very cheap.^" Of all such places it is least haufnted with hobgoblins, for if a ghost would walk more, he could not. 86 In the Dramatis Personce to Ben Jonson'a Every man in his Humour, Bobadil is styled a PaitPs f)ian ; and Falstaft' tells us that he bought Bardolph in PavPs. King Henry IV. Part 2. 87 You'd not doe Like your penurious father, who was wont To walke his dinner out in Paules. Mayne's City Match, 1658. 12 90 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. XLII. A COOK. JL HE kitchen is his hell, and he the devil in it, where his meat and he fry together. His revenues are showered down from the fat of the land, and he interlards his own grease among to help the drippings. Cholerick he is not by nature so much as his art,'^" and it is a shrewd temptation that the chopping-knife is so near. His weapons, oftcr offen- sive, are a mess of hot broth and scalding water, and woe be to him that comes in his way. In the kitchen he will domineer and rule the roast in spight of his master, and curses in the very dialect of his calliug. His labour is meer blustering and fury, and his speech like that of sailors in a storm, a thousand businesses at once; yet, in all this tumult, he dose not love combustion, but will be the first man that shall go and quench it. He is never a good christian till a hissing pot of ale has slacked him, like water cast on a firebrand, and for that 88 At all hours and all places I'll be angry ; and thus provoked, ■when I am at my prayers I will be angry. Massinger. JVew Way to Pay old Debts. L. A COOK. 91 time he is tame and dispossessed. His cunning is not small in architecture, for he builds strange fabricks in paste, towers and castles, which are offered to the assault of valiant teeth, and like Darius' palace in one banquet demolished. He is a pittiless murderer of innocents, and he mangles poor fowls with un- he,ard-of tortures; and it is thought the martyrs persecutions were devised from hence : sure we are, St. Lawrence's gridiron came out of his kitchen. His best faculty is at the dresser, where he seems to have great skill in the tacticks, ranging his dishes in order military, and placing with great discretion in the fore-front meats more strong and hardy, and the more cold and cowardly in the rear; as quaking tarts and quivering custards, and such milk-sop dishes, which scape many times the fury of the en- counter. But now the second course is gone up and he down in the cellar, where he drinks and sleeps till four o'clock"^ in the afternoon, and then returns again to his regiment. The time of supper was about live o'clock. See note at page 34. 92 MICROCOSMOGEAPHY. XLIII. A BOLD FORWARD 3IAN As a lusty fellow in a crowd, that is beholden more to his elbow than his legs, for he does not go, but thrusts well. He is a good shuffler in the world, wherein he is so oft putting forth, that at ^ength lie puts on. He can do some things, but dare do much more, and is like a desperate soldier, who will assault any thing where he is sure not to enter. He is not so well opinioned of himself, as industrious to make others, and thinks no vice so prejudicial as blushing. He is still citing for himself, that a candle should not be hid under a bushel; and for his part he will be sure not to hide his, though his candle be but a snuff or rush-candle. Those few good parts he has, he is no niggard in displaying, and is like some needy flaunting goldsmith, nothing in the in- ner room, but all on the cupboard. If he be a scholar, he has commonly stepped into the pulpit before a degree, yet into that too before be deserved it. He never defers St. Mary's beyond his regency, and A BOLD FORWARD MAN. 93 k his next sermon is at Paul's cross, ''o [and that printed.] He loves publick things alive; and for any solemn entertainment he will find a mouth, find a speech who will. He is greedy of great acquaint- ance and many, and thinks it no small advancement to rise to be known. [He is one that has all the great names at court at his fingers ends, and their lodgings; and with a saucy, " my lord," will salute the best of them.] His talk at the table is like Benjamin's mess, five times to his part, and no ar- gument shuts him out for a quarreller. Of all dis- graces he endures not to be nonplussed, and had rather fly for sanctuary to nonsense which few descry, than to nothing which all. His boldness is be- holden to other men's modesty, which rescues him many times from a baffle; yet his face is good armour, and he is dashed out of any thing sooner than countenance. Grosser conceits are puzzled in him for a rare man; and wiser men though they know 90 Paul's cross stood in the church-yard of that cathedral, on the north side, towards the east end. It was used for the preaching of sermons to the populace; and Holinshed mentions two instances of publick penance being performed here ; in 1534 by some of the adherents of Elizabeth Barton, well known as the holy maid of Kent, and inl53G by sir Thomas Newman, a priest, who " bare a faggot at Paules crosse for singing masse ivith good ale.'''' 94 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. him [yet] take him [in] for their pleasure, or as they would do a sculler for being next at hand. Thus preferment at last stumbles on him, because he is still in the way. His companions that flouted him before, now envy him, when they see him come ready for scarlet, whilst themselves lye musty in their old clothes and colleges. XLIV. A BAKER. JNI man verifies the proverb more, that it is an alms-deed to punish him; for his penalty is adole,^i amd does the beggars as much good as their dinner. He abhors, therefore, works of charity, and thinks his bread cast away when it is given to the poor. He loves not justice neither, for the weigh-scale's sake, and hates the clerk of the market as his execu- tioner; yet he finds mercy in his offences, and his 91 Bole origiuallj' signified the portion of alms that was given away at the door of a nobleman. Steevens, note to Shaks2)eare. Sir John Hawkins affirms that the benelaction distributed at Lambeth palace gate, is to this day called the dole. Dole would seem rather to be usually applied to alms distributed at fViueidX^.— Brand's Popular Antiquities. II. 287. L. A PRETENDER TO LEARNING. 95 basket only is sent to prison.^- Marry a pillory is his deadly enemy, and lie never hears well after. XLV. A PRETENDER TO LEARNING XS one that would make all others more fools than himself, for though he know nothing, he would not have the world know so much. He conceits nothing in learning but the opinion, which he seeks to pur- chase without it, though he might with less labour cure his ignorance than hide it. He is indeed a kind of scholar-mountebank, and his art our delusion. He is tricked out in all the accoutrements of learning, and at the first encounter none passes better. He is oftener in his study than at his book, and you can- not pleasure him better than to deprehend him : yet he hears you not till the third knock, and then comes out very angry as interrupted. You find him in his slippers'^^ and a pen in his ear, in which formality he was asleep. His table is spread wide with some 92 That is, the contents of his basket if discovered to be of light weight, are distributed to the needy prisoners. 93 study. First edit. 96 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. classick folio, which is as constant to it as the carpet, and hath laid open in the same page this half year. His candle is always a longer sitter up than himself, and the hoasP^ of his window at midnight. He walks much alone in the posture of meditation, and has a book still before his face in the fields. His pocket is seldom without a Greek testament or Hebrew bible, which he opens only in the church, and that when some stander-by looks over. He has sentences for company, some scatterings of Seneca and Tacitus, which are good upon all occasions. If he reads any thing in the morning, it comes up all at dinner ; and as long as that lasts, the discourse is his. He is a great plagiary of tavern wit, and comes to sermons only that he may talk of Austin. His parcels are the mere scrapings from company, yet he complains at parting what time he has lost. He is wondrously capricious to seem a judgment, and listens with a sower attention to what he understands not. He talks much of Scaligcr, and Casaubon, and the Jesuits, and prefers some unheard-of Dutch name before them all. He has verses to bring in 94 The first edition reads jw^f, and, I think, preferably. A HERALD. 97 upon these and these hints, and it shall go hard but he will wind in his opportunity. He is critical in a language he cannot conster, and speaks seldom under Arminius in divinity. His business and retirement and caller away in his study, and he protests no delight to it comparable. He is a great nomenclator of authors, which he has read in general in the catalogue, and in particular in the title, and goes seldom so far as the dedication. He never talks of any thing but learning, and learns all from talking. Three encounters with the same men pump him, and then he only puts in or gravely says nothing. He has taken pains to be an ass, though not to be a scholar, and is at length discovered and laughed at. XLVI. A HERALD As the spawn or indeed but the resultancy of nobi- lity, and to the making of him went not a generation but a genealogy. His trade is honour, and he sells it and gives arms himself, though he be no gentle- man. His bribes are like those of a corrupt judge, for they are the prices of blood. He seems very 13 98 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. rich in discourse, for he tells you of whole fields of gold and silver, or, and argent, worth much in French but in English nothing. He is a great diver in the streams or issues of gentry, and not a by-channel or bastard escapes him; yea he does with them like same shameless queen, fathers more children on them than ever they begot. His traffick is a kind of pedlary-ware, scutehions, and pennons, and little daggers and lions, such as children esteem and gentlemen; but his pennyworths are rampant, for you may buy three whole brawns cheaper than three boar's heads of him painted. He was sometimes the terrible coat of Mars, but is now for more merciful battles in the tilt-yard, where whosoever is victori- ous, the spoils are his. He is an art in England but in Wales nature, where they are born with heraldry in their mouths, and each name is a pedigree. CATHEDRAL SINGING MEN. 99 XLVII. THE COMMON SINGING-MEN IN CATHEDRAL CHURCHES xxRE a bad society, and yet a company of good fellows, that roar deep in the quire, deeper in the tavern. They are the eight parts of speech which go to the syntaxis of service, and are distinguished by their noises much like bells, for they make not a concert but a peal. Their pastime or recreation is prayers, their exercise drinking, yet herein so religiously addicted that they serve God oftest when they are drunk. Their humanity is a leg to the residencer,'-^ their learning a chapter, for they learn it commonly before they read it; yet the old Hebrew names are little beholden to them, for they mis-call them worse than one another. Though they never expound the scripture, they handle it much, and pollute the gospel with two things, their conversation and their thumbs. Upon worky-days, they behave 95 " Their humanity is a leg to the residencer.'''' A leg here signifies a how. Decker says, " a jewe neuer weares his cap threedbare with putting it off ; neuer bends i" th' hammes with casting away a leg^ «&c." GuVs Hornebooke. p. 11. LOFC 100 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. themselves in prayers as well as at their pots, for they swallow them down in an instant. Their gowns are laced commonly with streamings of ale, the superfluities of a cup or throat above measure. Their skill in melody makes them the better com- panions abroad, and their anthems abler to sing catches. Long lived for the most part they are not, especially the base, they overflow their bank so oft to drown the organs. Briefly, if they escape arrest- ing, they die constantly in God's service; and to take their death with more patience, they have wine and cakes at their funeral, and now they keep*"^ the church a great deal better, and help to fill it with their bones as before with their noise. XLVIII. A SHOP-KEEPER. XXIS shop is his well stuft book, and himself the title-page of it, or index. He utters much to all men, though he sells but to a few, and intreats for his own necessities, by asking others what they lack. No man speaks more and no more, for his words are 96 Keep for attend. A SHOP-KEEPER. 101 like his wares, twenty of one sort, and he goes over them alike to all commers. He is an arrogant com- mender of his own things; for whatsoever he shews you is the best in the town, though the worst in his shop. His conscience was a thing that would have laid upon his hands, and he was forced to put it off, and makes great use of honesty to profess upon. He tells you lies by rote, and not minding, as the phrase to sell in, and the language he spent most of his years to learn. He never speaks so truely as when he says he would use you as his brother; for he would abuse his brother, and in his shop thinks it lawful. His religion is much in the nature of his customers, and indeed the pander to it : and by a mis-interpreted sense of scripture makes a gain of his godliness. He is your slave while you pay him ready money, but if he once befriend you, your tyrant, and you had better deserve his hate than his trust. 102 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. XLIX. A BL UNT MAN XS one whose wit is better pointed than his beha- viour, and that coarse and impolished, not out of ignorance so much as humour. He is a great enemy to the fine gentleman, and these things of comple- ment, and hates ceremony in conversation, as the Puritan in religion. He distinguishes not betwixt fair and double dealing, and suspects all smoothness for the dress of knavery. He starts at the encoun- ter of a salutation as an assault, and beseeches you in choler to forbear your courtesy. He loves not any thing in discourse that comes before the purpose, and is always suspicious of a preface. Himself fails rudely still on his matter without any circumstance, except he use an old proverb for an introduction. He swears old out-of-date innocent oaths, as, by the mass ! by our lady ! and such like, and though there be lords present, he cries, my masters ! He is exceed- ingly in love with his humour, which makes him always profess and proclaim it, and you must take A BLUNT MAN. 103 what lie says patiently, because he is a plain man. His nature is his excuse still, and other men's tyrant; for he must speak his mind, and that is his worst, and craves your pardon most injuriously for not pardoning you. His jests best become him, because they come from him rudely and unaffected ; and he has the luck commonly to have them famous. He is one that will do more than he will speak, and yet speak more than he will hear ; for though he love to touch others, he is touchy himself and seldom to his own abuses replies but with his fists. He is as squeazy^^ of his commendations, as his courtesy, and his good word is like an eulogy in a satire. He is generally better favoured than he favours, as being commonly well expounded in his bitterness, and no man speaks treason more securely. He chides great men with most boldness, and is counted for it an honest fellow. He is grumbling much in the behalf of the commonwealth, and is in prison oft for it with credit. He is generally honest, but more generally thought so, and his downrightness credits him, as a man not well bended and crookned to the times. In conclusion, he is not easily bad, 97 Squeazy, niggardly. 104 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. in whom this quality is nature, but the counterfeit is most dangerous, since he is disguised in a humour, that professes not to disguise. • L. A HANDSOME HOSTESS. is the fairer commendation of an inn, above the fair sign, or fair lodgings. She is the loadstone that attracts men of iron, gallants and roarers, where they cleave sometimes long, and are not easily got off. Her lips are your welcome, and your enter- tainment her company, which is put into the reck- oning too, and is the dearest parcel in it. No citizen's wife is demurer than she at the first greet- ing, nor draws in her mouth with a chaster simper ; but you may be more familiar without distaste, and she does not startle at bawdry. She is the confusion of a pottle of sack more than would have been spent elsewhere, and her little jugs are accepted to have her kiss excuse them. She may be an honest woman, but is not believed so in her parish, and no man is a greater infidel in it than her husband. A CRITIC. 105 LI. A CRITIC Xs one that has spelled over a great many books, and his observation is the orthography. He is the surgeon of old authors, and heals the wounds of dust and io-norauce. He converses much in fras;- ments and desunt multctt^, and if he piece it up with two lines he is more proud of that book than the author. He runs over all sciences to peruse their syntaxis, and thinks all learning comprised in writ- ing Latin. He tastes stiles as some discreeter palates do wine ; and tells you which is genuine, which sophisticate and bastard. His own phrase is a miscellany of old words, deceased long before the Caesars, and entombed by Yarro, and the modernest man he follows is Plautus. He writes omneis at length, and qmdqiiid, and his gerund is most incon- formable. He is a troublesome vexer of the dead, which after so long sparing must rise up to the judgment of his castigations'. He is one that makes all books sell dearer, whilst he swells them into folios with his comments. ^s 98 On this passage, I fear, the preseut vohime will be a sufficient commentary, 14 106 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. LII. A SERGEANT, OR CATCH-POLE JLS one of God's judgments; and wliich our roar- ers do only conceive terrible. He is the properest shape wherein they fancy Satan ; for he is at most but an arrester, and hell a dungeon. He is the creditor's hawk, wherewith they seize upon flying- birds, and fetch them again in his tallons. He is the period of young gentlemen, or their full stop, for when he meets with them they can go no farther. His ambush is a shop-stall, or close lane, and his assault is cowardly at your back. He respites you in no place but a tavern, where he sells his minutes dearer than a clock-maker. The common way to run from him is through him, which is often attempted and atchieved, '^^\and no man is more beaten out of charity.'] He is one makes the street more dangerous than the highways, and men go bet- ter provided in their walks than their journey. He is the first handsel of the young rapiers of the tem- plers; and they are as proud of his repulse as an 99 And the clubs out of charity knock him clotvn. First edit. AN UNIVERSITY DUN. 1Q7 Hungarian of killing a Turk. He is a moveable prison, and his hands two manacles hard to be filed off. He is an occasioner of disloyal thoughts in the commonwealth, for he makes men hate the king's name worse than the devil's. LIII. AN UNIVERSITY DUN XS a gentleman's follower cheaply purchased, for his own money has hired him. He is an inferior creditor of some ten shillings downwards, contracted for horse-hire, or perchance for drink, too weak to be put in suit, and he arrests your modesty. He is now very expensive of his time, for he will wait upon your stairs a whole afternoon, and dance attendance with more patience than a gentleman-usher. He is a sore beleaguerer of chambers, and assaults them sometimes with furious knocks ; yet finds strong resistance commonly, and is kept out. He is a great complainer of scholar's loytering, for he is sure never to find them within, and yet he is the chief cause many times that makes them study. He Ijj8 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. oTumbles at the inoratitude of men that shun him for his kindness, but indeed it is his own fault, for he is too great an upbraider. No man puts them more to their brain than he ; and by shifting him off they learn to shift in the world. Some chuse their rooms on purpose to avoid his surprisals, and think the best commodity in them his prospect. He is like a rejected acquaintance, hunts those that care not for his company, and he knows it well enough, and yet will not keep away. The sole place to sup- ple him is the buttery, where he takes grievous use upon your name,^fo ai^d \^q [q one much wrought with good beer and rhetorick. He is a man of most unfortunate voyages, and no gallant walks the streets to less purpose. LIV. A STAYED MAN XS a man : one that has taken order with himself, and sets a rule to those lawlesnesses within him : whose life is distinct and in method, and his actions, 100 That is, inins ymi tq) a long score. A STAYED MAN. 109 as it were, cast up before : not loosed into the world^s vanities, but gathered up and contracted in his sta- tion : not scattered into many pieces of businesses, but that one course he takes, goes through with. A man firm and standing in his purposes, not heaved off with each wind and passion : that squares his expence to his coffers, and makes the total first, and then the items. One that thinks what he does, and does what he says, and foresees what he may do before he purposes. One whose " if I can " is more than another's assurance : and his doubtful tale before some men's protestations: — that is confident of nothing in futurity, yet his conjectures oft true prophecies — that makes a pause still betwixt his ear and belief, and is not too hasty to say after others. One whose tongue is strung up like a clock till the time, and then strikes, and says much when he talks little : — that can see the truth betwixt two wrang- lers, and sees them agree even in that they fall out upon: — that speaks no rebellion in a bravery, or talks big from the spirit of sack. A man cool and temperate in his passions, not easily betrayed by his choler : — that vies not oath with oath, nor heat with heat, but replies calmly to an angry man, and is too 110 MICEOCOSMOGRAPHY. hard for him too : — that can come fairly off from captain's companies, and neither drink nor quarreh One whom no ill hunting sends home discontented, and makes him swear at his dogs and family. One not hasty to pursue the new fashion, nor yet affectedly true to his old round breeches ; but gravely hand- some, and to his place, which suits him better than his taylor : active in the world without disquiet, and careful without misery ; yet neither ingulphed in his pleasures, nor a seeker of business, but lias his hour for both. A man that seldom laughs violently, but his mirth is a cheerful look : of a composed and settled countenance, not set, nor much alterable with sadness or joy. He affects nothing so wholly, that he must be a miserable man when he loses it; but fore-thinks what will come hereafter, and spares fortune his thanks and curses. One that loves his credit, not this word reputation ; yet can save both without a duel. Whose entertainments to greater men are respectful, not complementary; and to his friends plain, not rude. A good husband, father, master; that is, without doting, pampering, fami- liarity. A man well poised in all humours, in whom nature shewed most geometry, and he has not spoiled A MODEST MAN. Ill the work. A man of more wisdom than wittiness, and brain than fancy ; and abler to any thing than to make verses. LV. A 310DEST MAN S a far finer man than he knows of, one that shews I better to all men than himself, and so much the better to all men, as less to himself; ^oi for no quality sets a man off like this, and commends him more against his will : and he can put up any injury sooner than this (as he calls it) your irony. You shall hear him confute his commenders, and giving reasons how much they are mistaken, and is angry almost if they do not believe him. Nothing threatens him so much as great expectation, which he thinks more preju- dicial than your under-opinion, because it is easier to make that false, than this true. He is one that sneaks from a good action, as one that had pilfered. 101 This, as well as many other passages iu this work, has been appropriated by John Duuton, the celebrated bookseller, as his own. See his character of Mr. Samuel Hool, in DuntorCs Life and Errors, Svo. 1705. p. 337. 112 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. and dare not justify it ; and is more blushingly ppreliended in this, than others in sin: that counts all publick declarings of himself, but so many penances before the people ; and the more you ap- plaud him, the more you abash him, and he recovers not his face a month after. One that is easy to like anything of another man's, and thinks all he knows not of him better than that he knows. He excuses that to you, which another would impute; and if you pardon him. is satisfied. One that stands in no opinion because it is his own, but suspects it rather, because it is his own, and is confuted and thanks you. He sees nothing more willingly than his errors, and it is his error sometimes to be too soon per- suaded. He is content to be auditor, where he only can speak, and content to go away, and think him- self instructed. No man is so weak that he is ashamed to learn of, and is less ashamed to confess it; and he finds many times even in the dust, what others overlook and lose. Every man's presence is a kind of bridle to him, to stop the roving of his tongue and passions : and even impudent men look for this reverence from him, and distaste that in him, which they sufi"er in themselves, as one in whom A MEER EMPTY WIT. 113 vice is ill-favoured, and shows more scurvily than another. A bawdy jest shall shame him more than a bastard another man, and he that got it shall cen- sure him among the rest. And he is coward to nothing more than an ill tongue, and whosoever dare lye on him hath power over him ; and if you take him by his look, lie is guilty. The main ambition of his life is not to be discredited ; and for other things, his desires are more limited than his fortunes, which he thinks preferment, though never so mean, and that he is to do something to deserve this. He is too tender to venture on great places, and would not hurt a dignity to help himself: If he do, it was the violence of his friends constrained him, how hardly soever he obtain it, he was harder persuaded to seek it. LVI. A 3IEER EMPTY WIT XS like one that spends on the stock without any revenues coming in, and will shortly be no wit at all ; for learning is the fuel to the fire of wit, which, if it wants its feeding, eats out itself. A good con- 15 114 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. ceit or two bates of such a man, and makes a sensible weakening in him ; and his brain recovers it not a year after. The rest of him are bubbles and flashes, darted out on a sudden; which, if you take them while they are warm, may be laughed at 3 if they are cool, are nothing. He speaks best on the present apprehension, for meditation stupifies him, and the more he is in travel, the less he brings forth. His things come off then, as in a nauseating stomach, where there is nothing to cast up, strains and convulsions, and some astonishing bombast, which men only, till they understand, are scared with. A verse or some such work he may sometimes get up to, but seldom above the stature of an epi- gram, and that with some relief out of Martial, which is the ordinary companion of his pocket, and he reads him as he were inspired. Such men are commonly the trifling things of the world, good to make merry the company, and whom only men have to do withal when they have nothing to do, and none are less their friends than who are most their company. Here they vent themselves over a cup some-what more lastingly ; all their words go for jests, and all their jests for nothing. They are A DRUNKARD. 115 nimble in the fancy of some ridiculous thing, and reasonable good in the expression. Nothing stops a jest when it's coming, neither friends, nor danger, but it must out howsoever, though their blood come out after, and then they emphatically rail, and are emphatically beaten, and commonly are men reasona- ble familiar to this. Briefly they are such whose life is but to laugh and be laughed at ; and only wits in jest and fools in earnest. LVII. A DRUNKARD As one that will be a man to-morrow morning, but is now what you will make him, for he is in the power of the next man, and if a friend the better. One that hath let go himself from the hold and stay of reason, and lies open to the mercy of all tempta- tions. No lust but finds him disarmed and fenceless, and with the least assault enters. If any mischief escape him, it was not his fault, for he was laid as fair for it as he could. Every man sees him, as Cham saw his father the first of this sin, an unco- vered man, and though his garment be on, uncovered ; 116 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. the secretest parts of his soul lying in the nakedest manner visible : all his passions come out now, all his vanities, and those shamefuller humours which discretion clothes. His body becomes at last like a miry way, where the spirits are beclogged and can- not pass : all his members are out of ofl&ce, and his heels do but trip up one another. He is a blind man with eyes, and a cripple with legs on. All the use he has of this vessel himself, is to hold thus much ; for his drinking is but a scooping in of so many quarts, which are filled out into his body, and that filled out again into the room, which is com- monly as drunk as he. Tobacco serves to air him after a washing, and is his only breath and breath- ing while. He is the greatest enemy to himself, and the next to his friend, and then most in the act of his kindness, for his kindness is but trying a mastery, who shall sink down first : and men come from him as a battle, wounded and bound up. Nothing takes a man off more from his credit, and business, and makes him more retchlesly^o'2 careless 102 RecWesse, negligent. Saxon, rectlesse. Chaucer uses it also as an adjective : " I may not in this cas be recchelesy aerkes Tale, v. 8364. A PRISON. 117 what becomes of all. Indeed he dares not enter on a serious thought, or if he do, it is such melancholy that it sends him to be drunk again. LVIII. A PRISON As the grave of the living,i03 where they are shut up from the world and their friends ; and the worms that gnaw upon them their own thoughts and the jaylor. A house of meagre looks and ill smells, for lice, drink, and tobacco are the compound. Pluto's court was expressed from this fancy ; and the per- sons are much about the same parity that is there. You may ask as Menippus in Lucian, which is Ni- reus, which Thersites, which the beggar^ which the knight ', — for they are all suited in the same form of a kind of nasty poverty. Only to be out at el- bows is in fashion here, and a great indecorum not to be thread-bare. Every man shews here like so many wracks upon the sea, here the ribs of a thou- 103 " A prison is a graue to bury men aliue, and a place wherein a man for halfe a yeares experience may learne more law than he can at Westminster for an himdred pound." Mynshul's Essays and Characters of a Pnson. 4to. 1618. 118 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. sand pound, here the relicks of so many mannors, a doublet without buttons ; and 'tis a spectacle of more pity than executions are. The company one with the other is but a vying of complaints, and the causes they have to rail on fortune and fool themselves, and there is a great deal of good fellowship in this. They are commonly, next their creditors, most bit- ter against the lawyers, as men that have had a great stroke in assisting them hither. Mirth here is stupidity or hardheartedness, yet they feign it sometimes to slip melancholy, and keep off them- selves from themselves, and the torment of thinking what they have been. Men huddle up their life here as a thing of no use, and wear it out like an old suit, the faster the better ; and he that deceives the time best, best spends it. It is the place where new comers are most welcomed, and, next them, ill news, as that which extends their fellowship in misery, and leaves few to insult : — and they breath their discontents more securely here, and have their tongues at more liberty than abroad. Men see here much sin and much calamity ; and where the last does not mortify, the other hardens ; as those that are worse here, are desperately worse, and those from A SERVING MAN. 119 whom the horror of sin is taken oif and the punish- ment familiar : and commonly a hard thought passes on all that come from this school; which though it teach much wisdom, it is too late, and with danger : and it is better be a fool than come here to learn it. LIX. A SERVING MAN As one of the makings up of a gentleman as well as his clothes, and somewhat in the same nature, for he is cast behind his master as fashionably as his sword and cloak are, and he is but in querpo lo^ without him. His properness io«5 qualifies him, and of that a good leg ; for his head he has little use 104 In querpo is a corruption from the Spanish word citerpo. " En cuerpo^ a man ivithout a cloak.'' Pineda's Dictionary, 1740. The present signification evidently is, that a gentleman without his serv- ing-man, or attendant, is but half dressed: — he possesses only in part the appearance of a man of fashion. " To icalk in cuerpo, is to go without a cloak,.'''' Glossographia Anglicana Nova, 8vo. 1719. 105 Proper was frequently used by old writers for comely, or hand- some. Shakspeare has several instances of it : " I do mistake my person all this while : Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Myself to be a marvellous proper man. " K. Richard III. Act 1. Sc. 2. &c. 120 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. but to keep it bare. A good dull wit best suits with him to comprehend common sense and a trencher; for any greater store of brain it makes him but tumultuous, and seldom thrives with him. He fol- lows his master's steps, as well in conditions as the street : if he wench or drink, he comes him in an under kind, and thinks it a part of his duty to be like him. He is indeed wholly his master's ; of his faction, — of his cut, — of his pleasures: — he is handsome for his credit, and drunk for his credit, and if he have power in the cellar, commands the parish. He is one that keeps the best company, and is none of it ) for he knows all the gentlemen his master knows, and picks from thence some hawking and horse-race terms •"•' which he swaggers with in the ale house, where he is only called master. His mirth is bawdy jests with the wenches, and, behind the door, bawdy earnest. The best work he does is his marrying, for it makes an honest woman, and if he follows in it his master's direction, it is commonly the best service he does him. lOG " Why you know an'a man have not skill in the hawking and hunting languages now-a-days, I'll not give a rush for him." Mas- ter Stephen. Every Man in his Humoii4\ AN INSOLENT MAN. 121 LX. AN INSOLENT 3IAN J.S a fellow newly great and newly proud; one that hath put himself into another face upon his preferment, for his own was not bred to it. One whom fortune hath shot up to some office or authority, and he shoots up his neck to his fortune, and will not bate you an inch of either. His very countenance and gesture bespeak how much he is, and if you under- stand him not, he tells you, and concludes every period with his place, which you must and shall know. He is one that looks on all men as if he were angry, but especially on those of his acquaintance, whom he beats off with a surlier distance, as men apt to mistake him, because they have known him : and for this cause he knows not you ^till you have told him your name, which he thinks he has heard, but forgot, and with much ado seems to recover. If you have any thing to use him in, you are his vassal for that time, and must give him the patience of any injury, which he does only to shew what he may do. He snaps you up bitterly, because he will 16 122 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. be offended, and tells you, you are sawcy and trou- blesome, and sometimes takes your money in this language. His very courtesies are intolerable, they are done with such an arrogance and imputation ; and he is the only man you may hate after a good turn, and not be ungrateful; and men reckon it amonj!: their calamities to be beholden unto him. No vice draws with it a more general hostility, and makes men readier to search into his faults, and of them, his beginning; and no tale so unlikely but is willingly heard of him and believed. And com- monly such men are of no merit at all, but make out in pride what they want in worth, and fence themselves with a stately kind of behaviour from that contempt which would pursue them. They are men whose preferment does us a great deal of wrong, and when they are down, we may laugh at them without breach of good-nature. LXI. ACQUAINTANCE JLS the first draught of a friend, whom we must lay down oft thus, as the foul copy, before we can write him perfect and true : for from hence, as from a pro- ACQUAINTANCE. 123 bation, men take a degree in our respect, till at last they wholly possess us: for acquaiutance is the hoard, and friendship the pair chosen out of it ) by which at last we begin to impropriate and inclose to ourselves what before lay in common with others. And commonly where it grows not up to this, it falls as low as may be ; and no poorer relation than old ac- quaintance, of whom we only ask how they do for fashion's sake, and care not. The ordinary use of acquaintance is but somewhat a more boldness of society, a sharing of talk, news, drink, mirth together; but sorrow is the right of a friend, as a thing nearer our heart, and to be delivered with it. Nothing easier than to create acquaintance, the mere being in company once does it ; whereas friendship, like children, is ingeudered by a more inward mixture, and coupling together; when we are acquainted not with their virtues only, but their faults, their pas- sions, their fears, their shame, — and are bold on both sides to make their discovery. And as it is in the love of the body, which is then at the height and full when it has power and admittance into the hidden and worst parts of it ; so it is in friendship with the mind, when those tereuc?a of the soul, and those things 124 MICROCOSMOGRAPIIY. ■which we dare not shew the world, are bare and de- tected one to another. Some men are familiar with all, and those commonly friends to none ; for friend- ship is a sullencr thing, is a contractor and taker up of our affections to some few, and suffers them not loosely to be scattered on all men. The poorest tie of acquaintance is that of place and country, which are shifted as the place, and missed but while the fiincy of that continues. These are only then glad- dest of other, when they meet in some foreign region, where the encompassing of strangers unites them closer, till at last they get new, and throw off one an- other. Men of parts and eminency, as their acquaint- ance is more sought for, so they are generally more staunch of it, not out of pride only, but fear to let too many in too near them : for it is with men as with pictures, the best show better afar off and at distance, and the closer you come to them the coarser they are. The best judgment of a man is taken from his acquaintance, for friends and enemies are both partial ; whereas these see him truest because calmest, and are no ways so engaged to lie for him. And men that grow strange after acquaintance, sel- dom piece together again, as those that have tasted A MEER COMPLIMEXTAL MAN. 125 meat and dislike it, out of a mutual experience dis- relishing one another. LXII. A MEER COMPLIMENTAL 3IAX XS one to be held off still at the same distance you are now ; for you shall have him but thus, and if you enter on him farther you lose him. Methinks Virgil well expresses him in those well-behaved ghosts that ^'Eneas met with, that were friends to talk with, and men to look on, but if he grasped them, but air. lo' He is one that lies kindly to you, and for good fiishion's sake, and tis discourtesy in you to believe him. His words are so many fine phrases set together, which serve equally for all men, and are equally to no purpose. Each fresh encounter with a man puts him to the same part again, and he goes over to you what he said to him was last with him : he kisses your hands as he kissed his before, and is your servant to be commanded, 107 Ter couatus ibi collo dare brachia circum : Ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago, Par leuibus ventis, volucrique eimillima somno. Virgil Mn. vi. v. 700. edit. Heyne, 1787 126 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. but you shall intreat of liim nothing. His proffers are universal and general, with exceptions against all particulars. He will do any thing for you, but if you urge him to this, he cannot, or to that, he is engaged ^ but he will do any thing. Promises he accounts but a kind of mannerly words, and in the expectation of your manners not to exact them : if you do, he wonders at your ill breeding, that cannot distinguish betwixt what is spoken and what is meant. No man gives better satisfaction at the first, and comes off more with the elogy of a kind gentle- man, till you know him better, and then you know him for nothing. And commonly those most rail at him, that have before most commended him. The best is, he co5:ens you in a fair manner, and abuses you with great respect. LXni. A POOR FIDDLER XS a man and a fiddle out of case, and he in worse case than his fiddle. One that rubs two sticks to- gether (as the Indians strike fire), and rubs a poor living out of it ] partly from this, and partly from your charity, which is more in the hearing than A POOR FIDDLER. 127 o-iving him, for he sells nothing clearer than to be gone. He is just so many strings above a beggar, though he have but two; and yet he begs too, only not in the downright ' for Grod's sake, ' but with a shrugging ' Grod bless you/ and his face is more pined than the blind man's. Hunger is the greatest pain he takes, except a broken head some- times, and the laboring John Dory, lo^ Otherwise his life is so many fits of mirth, and tis some mirth to see him. A good feast shall draw him five miles by the nose, and you shall track him again by the scent. His other pilgrimages are fairs and good houses, where his devotion is great to the Christ- mas ', and no man loves good times better. He is in league with the tapsters for the worshipful of the inn, whom he torments next morning with his art, and has their names more perfect than their men. A new song is better to him than a new jacket, especially if bawdy, which he calls merry; and hates naturally the puritan, as an enemy to his mirth. A country wedding and Whitson-ale lot* are 108 Probably the name of some difficult tune. 109 Whitsuu-ales were feasts or merry-makings held at Whitsun- tide. A full account may be found in Brand's Popular Antiquities, I, 276. L. 128 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. two main places lie domineers in, wliere he goes for a musician, and overlooks the bag-pipe. The rest of him is drunk, and in the stocks. LXIV. A MEDDLING MAN Is one that has nothing to do with his business, and yet no man busier than he, and his business is most in his face. He is one thrusts himself vio- lently into all employments, unsent for, unfeed, and many times unthanked ; and his part in it is only an eager bustling, that rather keeps ado than does any thing. He will take you aside, and question you of your affair, and listen with both ears, and look earnestly, and then it is nothing so much yours as his. He snatches what you are doing out of your hands, and cries " give it me, '' and does it worse, and lays an engagement upon you too, and you must thank him for this pains. He lays you down an hundred wild plots, all impossible things, which you must be ruled by perforce, and he delivers them with a serious and counselling forehead ; and there is a o-reat deal more wisdom in this forehead than A GOOD OLD MAN. 129 his bead. He will woo for you, solicit for you, and woo you to suffer him ; and scarce any thing done, wherein his letter, or his journey, or at least him- self is not seen : if he have no task in it else, he will rail yet on some side, and is often beaten when be need not. Such men never thoroughly weigh any business, but are forward only to shew their zeal, when many times this forwardness spoils it, and then they cry they have done what they can, that is, as much hurt. Wise men still deprecate these men's kindnesses, and are beholden to them rather to let them alone ; as being one trouble more in all business, and which a man shall be hardest rid of. LXV. A GOOD OLD MAN -is the best antiquity, and which we may with least vanity admire. One whom time hath been thus long a working, and like winter fruit, ripened when others are shaken down. He hath taken out as many lessons of the world as days, and learnt the best thing in it ; the vanity of it. He looks over his former life as a danger well past, and would 17 130 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. not hazard himself to begin again. His lust was long broken before his body, yet he is glad this temptation is broke too, and that he is fortified from it by this weakness. The next door of death sads him not, but he expects it calmly as his turn in na- ture ; and fears more his recoiling back to childish- ness than dust. All men look on him as a common father, and on old age, for his sake, as a reverent thing. His very presence and face puts vice out of countenance, and makes it an indecorum in a vicious man. He practises his experience on youth without the harshness of reproof, and in his counsel his good company. He has some old stories still of his own seeing to confirm what he says, and makes them better in the telling ; yet is not troublesome neither with the same tale again, but remembers with them how oft he has told them. His old say- ings and morals seem proper to his beard ; and the poetry of Cato does well out of his mouth, and he speaks it as if he were the author. He is not apt to put the boy on a younger man, nor the fool on a boy, but can distinguish gravity from a sour look ; and the less testy he is, the more regarded. You must pardon him if he like his own times better A FLATTERER. 131 than these, because those things are follies to him now that were wisdom then ; yet he makes us of that opinion too when we see him, and conjecture those times by so good a relick. He is a man capable of a dearness with the youngest men, yet he not youth- fuller for them, but they older for him ; and no man credits more his acquaintance. He goes away at last too soon whensoever, with all men's sorrow but his own ; and his memory is fresh, when it is twice as old. LXVI. A FLATTERER J.S the picture of a friend, and as pictures flatter many times, so he oft shews fairer than the true substance : his look, conversation, company, and all the outwardness of friendship more pleasing by odds, for a true friend dare take the liberty to be sometimes offensive, whereas he is a great deal more cowardly, and will not let the least hold go, for fear of losing you. Your meer sour look affrights him, and makes him doubt his casheeriug. And this is one sure mark of him, that he is never first angry, but ready though upon his own wrong to make satisfaction. 132 MICROCOSMOGRAPnY. Therefore be is never yoked with a poor man, or any that stands on the lower ground, but whose fortunes may tempt bis pains to deceive him. Him be learns first, and learns well, and grows perfeeter in his humours than himself, and by this door enters upon his soul, of which be is able at last to take the very print and mark, and fashion his own by it, like a false key to open all your secrets. All his aflfections jump^^o even with your's ; be is be- fore-hand with your thoughts, and able to suggest them unto you. He will commend to 3'ou first what be knows you like, and has always some absurd story or other of your enemy, and then wonders how your two opinions should jump in that man. He will ask your counsel sometimes as a man of deep judgment, and has a secret of purpose to disclose to you, and, whatsoever you say, is persuaded. He listens to your words with great attention, and some- times will object that you may confute him, and then protests he never heard so much before. A 110 Jump here signifies to coincide. The old play of Soliman and Perseda, 4to. tvithout date, uses it in the same sense : "Wert thou nay friend, thy mind. wou\A jump with mine." So in Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Divele : — "Not two o[X'hQm jump in one tale." p. 29. A HIGH SPIRITED MAN. 133 piece of wit bursts him with an overflowing laughter, and he remembers it for you to all companies, and laughs again in the telling. He is one never chides you but for your vertues, as, you are too good, too Jionest, too religious, when his chiding may seem but the ernester commendation; and yet would fain chide you out of them too ; for your vice is the thing he has use of, and wherein you may best use him ; and he is never more active than in the worst diligences. Thus, at last, he possesses you from yourself, and then expects but his hire to betray you : and it is a happiness not to discover him ) for as long as you are happy, you shall not. LXVII. A HIGH-SPIRITED 31 AN Is one that looks like a proud man, but is not: you may forgive him his looks for his worth's sake, for they are only too proud to be base. One whom no rate can buy off from the least piece of his freedom, and make him digest an unworthy thought an hour. He cannot crouch to a great man to possess him. 134 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. nor fall low to the earth to rebound never so liigh again. He stands taller on his own bottom, than others on the advantage ground of fortune, as having solidly that honour, of which title is but the pomp. He does homage to no man for his great stile's sake, but is strictly just in the exaction of respect again, and will not bate you a complement. He is more sensible of a neglect than an undoing, and scorns no man so much as his surly thrcatener. A man quickly fired, and quickly laid down with satisfaction, but remits any injury sooner than words: only to himself he is irreconcileable, whom he never forgives a disgrace, but is still stabbing himself with the thought of it, and no disease that he dies of sooner. He is one had rather perish than be beholden for his life, and strives more to be quit with his friend than his enemy. Fortune may kill him but not deject him, nor make him fall into an humbler key than before, but he is now loftier than ever in his own defence; you shall hear him talk still after thousands, and he becomes it better than those that have it. One that is above the world and its drudgery, and cannot pull down his thoughts to the pelting businesses of life. He would sooner accept A MEER GULL CITIZEN. 135 the gallows than a mean trade, or any thing that might disparage the height of man in him, and yet thinks no death comparably base to hanging either. One that will do nothing upon command, though he would do it otherwise ; and if ever he do evil, it is when he is dared to it. He is one that if fortune equal his worth puts a luster in all preferment; but if otherwise he be too much crossed, turns desperately melancholy, and scorns mankind. LXVIII. A MERE GULL CITIZEN is one much about the same model and pitch of brain that the clown is, only of somewhat a more polite and finical ignorance, and as sillily scorns him as he is sillily admired by him. The (|uality of the city hath afforded him some better dress of clothes and language, which he uses to the best ad- vantage, and is so much the more ridiculous. His chief education is the visits of his shop, where if courtiers and fine ladies resort, he is infected with 136 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. SO much more eloquence, and if he catch one word extraordinary, wears it for ever. You shall hear him mince a complement sometimes that was never made for him; and no man pays dearer for good words, — for he is oft paid with them. He is suited rather fine than in the fashion, and has still something to distinguish him from a gentleman, though his doublet cost more ; especially on Sundays, bridegroom-like, where he carries the state of a very solemn man, and keeps his pew as his shop ; and it is a great part of his devotion to feast the minister. But his chiefest guest is a customer, which is the greatest relation he acknowledges, especially if you be an honest gentleman, that is trust him to cozen you enough. His friendships are a kind of gossip- ping friendships, and those commonly within the circle of his trade, wherein he is careful principally to avoid two things, that is poor men and suretiships. He is a man will spend his six-pence with a great deal of imputation, m and no man makes more of a pint of wine than he. He is one bears a pretty kind of foolish love to scholars, and to Cambridge especi- 111 Imputation here must be used for consequence ; of which I am. however, unable to produce any other instance. A MEER GULL CITIZEN. 137 ally for Sturbridge^i^ fair's sake ; and of these all arc truants to him that are not preachers, and of these the loudest the best; and he is much ravished with the noise of a rolling tongue. He loves to hea" discourses out of his element, and the less he under- stands the better pleased, which he expresses in a smile and some fond protestation. One that does nothing without his chuck, ^''^ that is his wife with whom he is billing still in conspiracy, and the wan- toner she is, the more power she has over him; and she never stoops so low after him, but is the only woman goes better of a widow than a maid. In the education of his child no man fearful ler, and the danger he fears is a harsh school-master, to whom he is alledging still the weakness of the boy, and pays a fine extraordinary for his mercy. The first whipping rids him to the university, and from thence 112 Sturbridgefair was the great mart for business, and resort for pleasure, in bishop Earle's day. It is alhided to in Randolph's Con- ceited Pedlar, 4to. 1630. " I am a pedlar, and I sell my ware This braue Saint Barthol. or Sturbridge faired Edward Ward, the facetious author of The London Spy, gives a whimsical account of a journey to Sturbridge, in the second volume of his works. 113 This silly term of endearment appears to be derived from chick or my chicken. Shakspeare uses it in Macbeth, Act iii. Scene 2. " Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck."" 18 138 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. rids him again for fear of starving, and the best he makes of him is some gull in plush. He is one loves to hear the famous acts of citizens, whereof the gild- ing of the cross" ^ he counts the glory of this age, and the four''-^ prentices of London above all the nine'"' 114 The great cross in West Cheap, was originally erected in 1290, by Edward I. in commemoration of the death of queen Ellinor, whose body rested at that place, on its journey from Ilerdeby, in Lincoln- shire, to Westminister, for interment. It was rebuilt in 1-141, and again in 14S4. In 1584, the images and ornaments were destroj'^ed by the populace ; and in 1509, the top of the cross was taken down, the timber being rotted within the lead, and fears being entertained as to its safety. By order of queen Elizabeth, and her privy council, it was repaired in 1000, when, says Stow, " a cross of timber was framed, set up, covered with lead, and glided,'''' &c. Stow's Survey 0/ Za;i(/on, by Strype, book iii. p. 35. Edit, folio, Lond. 1720. 115 This must allude to the play written by Hey wood with the following title : The Foure Prentises of London. With the Conquest of lenisalem. As it hath bene diverse times acted at the lied Bidl, by the queetie's Maiesties Servants. 4to. Lond. 1015. In this drama, the four prentises are Godfrey, Grey, Charles, and Eustace, sons to the old Earle of Bidlen, who, having lost his territories, by assisting Wil- liam the Conqueror in his descent upon England, is compelled to live like a private citizen in London, and binds his sons to a mercer, a goldsmith, a haberdasher, and a grocer. The four prentises, however, prefer the life of a soldier to that of a tradesman, and, quitting the service of their masters, follow Kobert of Normandy to the holy land, where they perform the most astonishing feats of valour, and finally accomplish the conquest of Jerusalem. The whole play abounds in bombast and impossibilities, and, as a composition, is unworthy of notice or remembrance. lie The history of the Nine Worthies of the World ; three whereof xcere Gentiles: 1. Hector, son of Pnamus, king of Troy. 2. Alex- ander the Great, king of Macedon, and conqueror of the world. 3. Julius Cmsar, first emperor of Borne. Three Jews. 4. Joshua, cap- A LASCIVIOUS MAN. 139 worthies. He intitles himself to all the merits of his company, whether schools, hospitals, or exhibi- tions, in which he is joint benefactor, though four hundred jbrys ago, and upbraids them far more than those that gave them : yet with all this folly he has wit enough to get wealth, and in that a sufficieuter man than he that is wiser. LXVIII. A LASCIVIOUS MAN XS the servant he says of many mistresses, but all are but his lust, to which only he is faithful, and none besides, and spends his best blood and spirits in the service. His soul is the bawd to his body, and those that assist him in this nature the nearest to it. No man abuses more the name of love, or those whom he applies this name to ; for his love is tain general and leader of Israel into Canaan. 5. David^ king o Israel. 6. Judas Maccabeus, a valiant Jewish commander against the tyranny of Antiochus. Three Christians. 7. Arthur, king of Bntain, who courageously defended his country against the Saxons. 8. Charles the Great, king of France and Emperor of Germany. 9. Godfrey of Bullen, king of Jerusalem. Being an account of their glorious lives, ivorthy actions, renowned victories, and deaths. 12mo. No date. 140 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. like his stomach to feed on what he loves, and the end of it to surfeit and loath, till a fresh appetite rekindle him ; and it kindles on any sooner than who deserve best of him. There is a great deal of malignity in this vice, for it loves still to spoil the best things, and a virgin sometimes rather than beauty, because the undoing here is greater, and consequently his glory. No man laughs more at his sin than he, or is so extremely tickled with the remembrance of it; and he is more violence to a modest ear than to her he defloured. A bawdy jest enters deep into him, and whatsoever you speak he will draw to baudry, and his wit is never so good as here. His unchastest part is his tongue, for that commits always what he must act seldomer ; and that commits with all which he acts with few ; for he is his own worst reporter, and men believe as bad of him, and yet do not believe him. Nothing harder to his persuasion than a chaste man, no eunuch ; and makes a scoffing miracle at it, if you tell him of a maid. And from this mistrust it is that such men fear marriage, or at least marry such as are of bodies to be trusted, to whom only they sell that lust which they buy of others, and make A RASH MAN. 141 their wife the revenue to their mistress. They are men not easily reformed, because they are so little ill-persuaded of their illness, and have such pleas from man and nature. Besides it is a jeering and flouting vice, and apt to put jests on the reprover. The pox only converts them, and that only when it kills them. LXX. A RASH 31AN Ji.S a man too quick for himself; one whose actions put a leg still before his judgement, and out-run it. Every hot fancy or passion is the signal that sets him forward, and his reason comes still in the rear. One that has brain enough, but not patience to di- gest a business, and stay the leisure of a second thought. All deliberation is to him a kind of sloth and freezing of action, and it shall burn him rather than take cold. He is always resolved at first think- ing, and the ground he goes upon is, hop icliat may. Thus he enters not, but throws himself violently upon all things, and for the most part is as violently ^ (upon all off again ; and as an obstinate " / icilV^ 142 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. was the preface to liis undertaking, so his conclusion is commonly " / icoiild I had not ;" for such men seldom do any thing that they are not forced to take in pieces again, and are so much farther off from doing it, as they have done already. His friends are with him as his physician, sought to only in his sickness and extremity, and to help him out of that mire he has plunged himself into ; for in the sud- denness of his passions he would hear nothing, and now his ill success has allayed him he hears too late. He is a man still swayed with the first reports, and no man more in the power of a pick-thank than he. He is one who will fight first, and then expostulate, condemn first, and then examine. He loses his friend in a fit of quarrelling, and in a fit of kindness undoes himself; and then curses the occasion drew this mischief upon him, and cries, God mercy ! for it, and curses again. His repent- ance is meerly a rage against himself, and he does iUl^ something in it^self^ to be repented again. He is a man whom fortune must go against much to make him happy, for had he been suffered his own way, he had been undone. AN AFFECTED MAN. 143 LXXI. AN AFFECTED MAN JLS an extraordinary man in ordinary things. One that would go a strain beyond himself, and is taken in it. A man that overdoes all thino-s with g-reat solemnity of circumstance ; and whereas with more negligence he might pass better, makes himself with a great deal of endeavour ridiculous. The fancy of some odd quaintnesses have put him clean beside his nature ; he cannot be that he would, and hath lost what he was. He is one must be point-blank in every trifle, as if his credit and opinion hung upon it ; the very space of his arms in an embrace studied before and premeditated, and the figure of his countenance of a fortnight's contriving ; he will not curse you without-book and extempore, but in some choice way, and perhaps as some great man curses. Every action of his cries, — "i)o ye mark me .^" and men do mark him how absurd he is : for aflPectation is the most betraying humour, and no- thing that puzzles a man less to find out than this. All the actions of his life are like so many things 144 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. bodged in without any natural cadence or connec- tion at all. You shall track him all through like a school-boy's theme, one piece from one author and this from another, and join all in this general, that they are none of his own. You shall observe his mouth not made for that tone, nor his face for that simper; and it is his luck that his finest things most misbecome him. If he affect the gentle- man as the humour most commonly lies that way, not the least punctilio of a fine man, but he is strict in to a hair, even to their very negli- gences, which he cons as rules. He will not carry a knife with him to wound reputation, and pay double a reckoning, rather than ignobly question it : and he is full of this — ignobly — and nobly — and genteely ; — and this meer fear to trespass against the genteel way puts him out most of all. It is a humour runs through many things besides, but is an ill-favored ostentation in all, and thrives not : — and the best use of such men is, they are good parts in a play. A PROFANE MAN. 145 LXXIL A PROFAXE 31 AX Is one that denies God as far as the law gives him leave ; that is, only does not say so in downright terms, for so far he may go. A man that does the greatest sins calmly, and as the ordinary actions of life, and as calmly discourses of it again. He will tell you his business is to break such a command- ment, and the breaking of the commandment shall tempt him to it. His words are but so many vomit- ings cast up to the loathsomeness of the hearers, only those of his company n ' loath it not. He will take upon him with oaths to pelt some tenderer man out of his company, and makes good sport at his con- quest over the puritan fool. The scripture supplies him for jests, and he reads it on purpose to be thus merry : he will prove you his sin out of the bible, and then ask if you will not take that authority. He never sees the church but of purpose to sleep in it, or when some silly man preaches, with whom he 117 Those of the same habits with himself ; his associates 19 146 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. means to make sport, and is most jocund in the churcli. One that nick-names clergymen with all the terms of reproach, as " rat, hiack-coaf. '^ and the like ; which he will be sure to keep up, and never calls them by other : that sings psalms when he is drunk, and cries " God mercy " in mockery, for he must do it. lie is one seems to dare God in all his actions, but indeed would out-dare the opi- nion of him, which would else turn him desperate \ for atheism is the refuge of such sinners, whose re- pentance would be only to hang themselves. LXXIII. A COWARD is the man that is commonly most fierce against the coward, and labouring to take off this suspicion from himself; for the opinion of valour is a good protection to those that dare not use it. No man is valianter than he is in civil company, and where he thinks no danger may come on it, and is the readiest man to fall upon a drawer and those that must not strike again : wonderful exceptions and cholerick where he sees men are loth to give him occasion, A COWARD. 147 and you cannot pacify him better than by quarrel- ing with him. The hotter you grow, the more tem- perate man is he ; he protests he always honoured you, and the more you rail upon him, the more he honours you, and you threaten him at last into a very honest quiet man. The sight of a sword wounds him more sensibly then the stroke, for be- fore that come he is dead already. Every man is his master that dare beat him, and every man dares that knows him. And he that dare do this is the only man can do much with him ; for his friend he cares not for, as a man that carries no such terror as his enemy, which for this cause only is more potent with him of the two : and men fall out with him of purpose to get courtesies from him, and be bribed again to a reconcilement. A man in whom no secret can be bound up, for the apprehension of each danger loosens him, and makes him bewray both the room and it. He is a christian mfeerly for fear of hell-fire; and if any religion could fright him more, would be of that. 148 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. LXXIV. A SORDID RICH MAN XS a beggar of a fair estate, of whose wealth we may say as of other men's unthriftiuess, that it has brought him to this : when he had nothing he lived in another kind of fashion. He is a man whom men hate in his own behalf for using himself thus, and yet, being upon himself, it is but justice, for he deserves it. Every accession of a fresh heap bates him so much of his allowance, and brings him a de- gree nearer starving. His body had been long- since desperate, but for the reparation of other men's tables, where he hoards meats in his belly for a mouth, to maintain him in hunger so long. His clothes were never young in our memory 3 you might make long epochas from them, and put them into the almanack with the dear year "" and the great lis The dear year here, I believe, alhided to, was in 1574, and is thus described by that faithful aud valuable historian Holiushed:— " This yeare, about Lammas, wheat was sold at Loudon for three shillings the bushell : but shortlic after, it was raised to foure shil- lings, fiue shillings, six shilliugs, and, before Christmas, to a noble, and seuen shillings ; which so continued long after. Beefe was sold A SORDID RICH MAN. 149 frost 1^^ and he is known by them longer than his face. He is one never gave alms in his life, and yet is as charitable to his neighbor as himself. He will redeem a penny with his reputation, and lose all his friends to boot ; and his reason is, he will not be undone. He never pays any thing but with strictness of law, for fear of which only he steals not. He loves to pay short a shilling or two in a great sum, and is glad to gain that when he can no more. He never sees friend but in a journey to save the charges of an inn, and then only is not sick ; and his friends never see him but to abuse him. He is a fellow indeed of a kind of frantick thrift, and one of the strangest things that wealth can work. for twentie pence, and two aud twentie pence the stone ; and all other flesh and white meats at an excessiue price ; all kind of salt fish verie deare, as fine herings two pence, &c. ; yet great plentie of fresh fish, and oft times the same verie cheape. Pease at foure shil- lings the bushell ; ote-meale at foure shillings eight pence ; bale salt at three shillings the bushell, &c. All this dearth notwithstanding, (thanks be given to God,) there was no want of anie thing to them that wanted not monie." Holinshed, Chronicle^ vol. 3, page 1259, a. edit, folio, 1587. 119 Ou the 21st of December, 1564, began a frost referred to by- Fleming, in his index to Holinshed^ as the ^'- frost called the great frost,'" which lasted till the 3rd of January, 1565. It was so severe that the Thames was frozen over, and the passage on it, from Lon- don-bridge to Westmiuster, as easy as, and more frequented than that on dry land. 150 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. LXXV. A MEER GREAT MAN XS so much heraldry without honour, himself less real than his title. His virtue is, that he was his father's son, and all the expectation of him to beget another. A man that lives meerly to preserve another's memory, and let us know who died so many years ago. One of just as much use as his images, only he differs in this, that he can speak himself, and save the fellow of Westminster ^^o a labour : and he remembers nothing better than what was out of his life. His grandfathers and their acts are his discourse, and he tells them with more glory than they did them ; and it is well they did enough, or else he had wanted matter. His other studies are his sports and those vices that are fit for great men. Every vanity of his has his officer, and is a serious employment for his servants. He talks loud and baudily, and scurvily as a part of state, and they hear him with reverence. All good 120 The person wlio exhibits Westminster ahhey. A POOR MAN. 151 qualities are below him, and especially learning, except some parcels of the chronicle and the writing of his name, which he learns to write not to be read. He is meerly of his servants' faction, and their instrument for their friends and enemies, and is always least thanked for his own courtesies. They that fool him most do most with him, and he little thinks how many laugh at him bare-head. No man is kept in ignorance more of himself and men, for he hears nought but flattery ; and what is fit to be spoken truth with so much preface that it loses itself. Thus he lives till his tomb be made ready, and is then a grave statue to posterity. LXXVI. A POOR MAN xS the most impotent man, though neither blind nor lame, as wanting the more necessary limbs of life, without which limbs are a burden. A man un- fenced and unsheltered from the gusts of the world, which blow all in upon him, like an unroofed house; and the bitterest thing he suffers is his neighbours. All men put on to him a kind of churlisher fashion, 152 MICROCOSMOGRAPHT. and even more plansible natures are churlish to him, as who are nothing advantaged bv his opinion. Whom men fall out with before-hand to prevent friendship, and his friends too to prevent engage- ments, or if they own him 'tis in a private and a by-room, and on condition not to know them before company. All vice put together is not half so scandalous, nor sets off our acquaintance fiirther; and even those that are not friends for ends do not love any dearness with such men. The least courte- sies are upbraided to him, and himself thanked for none, but his best services suspected as handsome sharking and tricks to get money. And we shall observe it in knaves themselves, that your beggar- liest knaves are the greatest, or thought so at least, for those that have wit to thrive by it have art not to seem so. Now a poor man has not vizard enough to mask his vices, nor ornament enough to set forth his virtues, but both are naked and unhandsome ; and though no man is necessitated to more ill, yet no man's ill is less excused, but it is thought a kind of impudence in him to be vicious, and a presump- tion above his fortune. His good parts lye dead upon his hands, for want of matter to employ them. AN ORDINARY HONEST MAN. 153 and at the best are not commended bnt pitied, as virtues ill placed, and we may say of him. - Tis an honest man. but tis pity;" and yet those that call him so will trust a knave before him. He is a man that has the truest speculation of the world, because all men show to him in their plainest and worst, as a man they have no plot on. by app»earing good to ; whereas rich men are entertained with a more holy- day behaviour, and see only the best we can dissem- ble. He is the only he that tries the true strength of wisdom, what it can do of itself without the help of fortune ; that with a great deal of virtue con- quers extremities, and with a great deal more his own impatience, and obtains of himself not to hate men . LXXYII. AX ORDIXARr HOXEST MAX XS one whom it concerns to be called honest, for if he were not this, he were nothing : and yet he ia not this neither, but a good dull vicious fellow, that complies well with the deboshments ^-' of the time, 121 Minshew interprets the verb d^bo^f. " to corrupt, make lewde. vitiate." When the word was first adopted from the French Ian- 20 154 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. and is fit for it. One that lias no good part in him to offend his company, or make him to be suspected a proud fellow; but is sociably a dunce, and sociably a drinker. That does it fair and above-board without legermain, and neither sharks '--for a cup or a reckon- ing : that is kind over his beer, and protests he loves you, and begins to you again, and loves you again. One that quarrels with no man, but for not pledging him, but takes all absurdities and commits as many, and is no tell-tale next mornino;, thouij^h he remember it. One that will fight for his friend if he hear him abused, and his friend commonly is he that is most likely, and he lifts up many a jug in his defence. He rails against none but censurers, against whom he thinks he rails lawfully, and censurers are all those that are better than himself. These good properties qualify him for honesty enough, and raise him high in the aie-house commendation, who, if he had any other good quality, would be named by guage, (save Mr. Ste(fvens, in a note to the Tempest^) it appears to have been epelt according to the pronunciation, and therefore wrongly ; but ever since it has been spelt right, it has been uttered with equal impropriety. 12-2 The verb to shark is frequently used by old writers, for to pi^ fer. and, as in the present instance, to sijonge. A SUSPICIOUS OR JEALOUS MAN. 155 that. But now for refuge he is an honest man, and hereafter a sot: only those that commend him think him not so, and tliose that commend him are honest fellows. Lxxviir. A SUSPICIOUS OR JEALOUS MAN i-S one that watches himself a mischief, and keeps a lear eye still, for fear it should escape him. A man that sees a great deal more in every thing: than is to be seen, and yet he thinks he sees nothing: his own eye stands in his light. He is a fellow commonly guilty of some weaknesses, which he might conceal if he were careless : — now his over- diligence to hide them makes men pry the more. Howsoever he imagines you have found him, and it shall go hard but you mustabuse him whether you will or no. Not a word can be spoke, but nips him some- where; not a jest thrown out, but he will make it hit him. You shall have him go fretting out of company, with some twenty quarrels to every man, stung and galled, and no man knows less the occa- sion than they that have given it. To laugh before 156 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. liim is a dangerous matter, for it cannot be at any thing but at liim, and to whisper in his company plain conspiracy. He bids you speak out, and he will answer you, when you thought not of him. He expostulates with you in passion, why you should abuse him, and explains to your ignorance wherein, and gives you very good reason at last to laugh at him hereafter. He is one still accusing others when they are not guilty, and defending himself when he is not accused : and no man is undone more with apologies, wherein he is so elaborately excessive, that none will believe him; and he is never thought worse of, than when he has given satisfaction. Such men can never have friends, becau.se they can- not trust so far ; and this humour hath this infection with it, it makes all men to them suspicious. In con- clusion, they are men always in offence and vexation with themselves and their neighbors, wronging others in thinking they would wrong them, and themselves most of all in thinking they deserve it. END OF THE CHARACTEKS. APPENDIX No. I. 80MEACC0VNT OF BISHOP FARLE^ A.LL the biographical writers who have taken do- tice of John Earle agree in stating, that he was born in the city of York, although not one of them has given the exact date of his birth, or any intelli- gence relative to his family, or the rank in life of his parents.- It is, however, most probable, that they were persons of respectablility and fortune, as 1 The following brief memoir pretends to be nothing more than an enumeration of such particulars relative to the excellent prelate, whose Characters are here otfered to the public, as could be gathered from the historical and biographical productions of the period in which he flourished. It is hoped that no material occurrence has been overlooked, or circumstance mis-stated; but should anj-^ errors appear to have escaped his observation, the editor will feel obliged by the friendly intimation of such persons as may be possessed of more copious information than he has been able to obtain, in order that they may be acknowledged and corrected in another place. 2 He beareth ermine^ on a chief indented sahl^^ three eastern crowns or by the name of Earles. This coat wa ; gi-anted by Sir Edward Walker, garter, the Ist of August, IGGO, to the Eev. Dr. John Earles, son of Thomas Earles, gent, sometime Eegister of the Archbishop's Court at York. He was Dean of Westminster, and 158 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. he was sent, at an early age, to Oxford, and entered as a commoner of Christ-church college,"^ where his conduct was so exemplary, his attention to his stu- dies so marked, and his general deportment and manner so pleasing, that he became a successful candidate at Merton college, and was admitted a probationary fellow on that foundation in 1620, being then, according to Wood,' about nineteen years of age. He took the degree of Master of Arts, July 10, 1624, and in 1631 served the office of Proctor of the university, about which time he was also appointed chaplain to Philip Earl of Pem- broke, then Chancellor of Oxford. During the earlier part of our author's life, he appears to have possessed considerable reputation as a poet, and to have been as remarkable for the plea- santry of his conversation, as for his learning, virtues, and piety. Wood ^ tells us that " his Clerk of the Closet to his Majesty King Charles the Second; and in the year 1663, made Bishop of Salisbury. Guillim's Heraldry, folio. Lond. 1724. p. 282. It is almost unnecessary to add that I was not aware of this grant, when I compiled the short account of Earle, and spoke of my ina- bility to give any information relative to his parents. 3 He took the degree of Bachelor of Arts whilst a member of this society, July 8, 1619, and appears to have been always attached to it. In 1660 he gave twenty pounds towards repairing the cathe- dral and college. Wood. Hist, et Antiq. Univ. Oxon. lib. ii. p. 23. AAthence Oxon. ii. 365. 5 Ibid. APPENDIX. 159 younger years were adorned with oratory, poetry, and witty fancies, his elder with quaint preaching and subtile disputes." The only specimens of his poetry which can be recovered at this time, are three funeral tributes, which will be found in this Appen- dix, and of which two are now printed, I believe, for the first time. Soon after his appointment to be Lord Pembroke's chaplain, he was presented by that nobleman to the rectory of Bishopstone, in Wiltshire ; nor was this the only advantage he reaped from the friendship of his patron, who being at that time Lord Cham- berlain of the King's household,'^ was entitled to a lodging in the court for his chaplain, a circumstance which in all probability introduced Mr. Earle to the notice of the King, who promoted him to be chap- lain and tutor to Prince Charles, when Dr. Duppa, whe had previously discharged that important trust, was raised to the bishopric of Salisbury. In 1642 Earle took his degree of Doctor in Divinity, and in the year following was actually elected one of the Assembly of Divines appointed by the parliament to new model the church. This office, although it may be considered a proof of the high opinion even those of different sentiments from himself entertained of his character and merit, G Collins' Peerage, ill. 123. 160 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. he refused to accept, when he saw that there was no probability of assisting the cause of religion, or of restraining the violence of a misguided faction, by an interference among those who were " declared and avowed enemies to the doctrine and discipline of the church of England ; some of them infamous in their lives and conversations, and most of them of very mean parts in learning, if not of scandalous ignorance.' On the 10th of February, 1643, Dr. Earle was elected chancellor of the cathedral of Salisbury,*" of which situation, as well as his living of Bishopstone, he was shortly after deprived by the ill success of the royal cause. •• When the defeat of the King's forces at Worces- ter compelled Charles the Second to fly his country, Earle attached himself to the fallen fortunes of his sovereign, and was among the first of those who saluted him upon his arrival at llouen in Normandy, where he was made clerk of the closet, and King's 7 Clarendon. History of the Rebellion^ ii, 827. Edit. Oxford, 1807. 8 Walker. Sufferings of the Clergy^ fol. 1714, part ii. page 03. 9 During the early i)art of the civil wart*, and whilst puccess was doubtful on cither side, he appear^! to have lived in retirement, and to have employed himself in a translation of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity into Latin, which, however, was never made public. At the appearance of Charles the First's Euwv BaCjXuTj.he was desired by the King (Ch. II.) to execute the same task upon that production, which he performed with great ability. It was printed for distribu- tion on the continent in 1049. APPENDIX. 161 chaplain. ^0 Nor was liis affection to the family of the Stuarts, and his devotion to their cause evinced by personal services only, as we find by a letter from Lord CMarendon to Dr. Barwick, that he as- sisted the King with money in his necessities. '^ During the time that Charles was in Scotland, Dr. Earle resided at Antwerp, with his friend Dr. Morley,^- from whence he was called upon to attend the Duke of Vork (afterwards James II.) at Paris, '^ in order that he miglit heal some of the breaches which were then existing between certain members of the duke's household ;i' and here it is probable he remained till the recal of Charles the Second to the throne of England. Upon the Restoration, Y'r. Earle received the re- ward of his constancy and loyalty, he was immedi- ately promoted to the deanery of Westminster, a situ- ation long designed for him by the King. ' ^ In 1661 he was appointed one of the commissioners for a 10 Wood, Ath. Oxon. ii. 30.5. 11 Life of Dr. John Barwick, 8vo. Lond. 1724. p. 522. 12 Dr. George Morley was chaplain to Charles the First, and canon of Chriirt Church, Oxford. At the Res^toration he was made, first dean of Christ Church, then bishop of Worcester, and lastly bishop of Winchester. He died at Farnham-castle, October 2it, 1084. See Wood. Athen. Oxon. ii. 581. 13 Wood. Atheme, ii. 770. 14 Clarendon's Rebellion, iii. 059. 15 Life of Barwick, 452. 21 162 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. review of the Liturgy,!^' and on November 30, 1662, was consecrated Bishop of Worcester, from which ^ee he was translated, September 28, 1663, to the dignity of Salisbury. 1'^ Little more remains to be added. — Bishop Earle apjDcars to have continued his residence with the royal family after the acquisition of his well-de- served honors ; and when the court retired to Oxford, during the plague in 1665, he attended their majes- ties to the place of his early education, and died at his apartments in University College, on the 17th of November. He was buried on the 25th, near the high altar, in Merton College chapel; and was, according to Wood, " accompanied to his grave, from the public schools, by an herald at arms, and the principal persons of the court and university." His monument, which stands at the north-east corner of the chapel, is still in excellent preservation, and possesses the following inscription : " Amice, si qiiis hie sepiiltns est, roges, Ille, qui ncc meruit unqua — Nee quod majus est, liabuit Inimieum ; Qui potuit in aula vivere, et mundum spernere Concionator educatus inter principes, Et ipse facile princeps inter Concionatores, Evangehsta indefessus, Episcopus pientissimus ; 16 Kennet's Register^ folio, 1728, page 504. 17 Wood. Athena, ii. 366. APPENDIX. It Ille qui una cum sacratissimo Rege, Cujus & juvenilium studioriim, et anim?e Deo charse Curam a beatissiino Patre clemanclatam gessit, Nobile ac Religiosum exilium est passus ; Ille qui Hookeri ingentis Politiam Ecclesiasticam, Ille qui Caroli Martyris EIKO'NA BASIAIKirN, (Volumen quo post Apocalypsin divinius nullum) Legavit Orbi sic Latine redditas, Ut uterque unius Fidei Defensor, Patriam adhuc retineat majestatem. Si nomen ejus necdum tibi suboleat, Lector, Nomen ejus ut unguenta pretiosa: Johannes Earle Eboracensis, Serenissimo Carolo 2^° Regij Oratorij Clericue, f aliquaudo Westmonasteriensis Decanus, delude Wigorniensis j Ecclesias I tandem Sarisburiensis ^ ( et nunc triumphantis J Obiit Oxonij Novemb. 17" Anno \ ^°"^ ' ^^^^^^ ( ^tatis suse G5to. Yoluitq. in hoc, ubi olim floruerat, CoUegio, Ex ^de Christi hue in Socium ascitus, Ver magnum, ut reflorescat, expectare.' No. II. CHARACTERS OF BISHOP EARLE. — " He was a person very notable for hi elegance in the Greek and Latin tongues ; and being fellow of Merton college in Oxford, and having been proctor of the university, and some very witty and 164 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. ] sharp discourses being published in print without his consent, though known to be his, he grew sud- denly into a very general esteem with all men ; being a man of great piety and devotion ; a most eloquent and powerful preacher ; and of a conversation so plea- sant and delightful, so very innocent, and so very facetious, that no man's company was more desired, and more loved. No man was more negligent in his dress, and habit, and mein ; no man more wary and cultivated in his behaviour and discourse j insomuch as he had the greater advantage when he was known, by promising so little before he was known. He was an excellent poet both in Latin, Greek, and English, as appears by many pieces yet abroad ; though he suppressed many more himself, especially of English, incomparably good, out of an austerity to those sallies of his youth. He was very dear to the Lord Falkland, with whom he spent as much time as he could make his own ; and as that lord would impute the speedy progress he made in the Greek tongue to the information and assistance he had from Mr. Earles, so Mr. Earles would frequently pro- fess that he had got more useful learning by his conversation at Tew (the Lord Falkland's house,) than he had at Oxford. In the first settling of the prince his family, he was made one of his chaplains, and attended on him when he was forced to leave the kingdom. He was amongst the few excellent APPENDIX. 165 men who never had, or never could have an enemy, but such a one who w\as an enemy to all learning and virtue, and therefore would never make himself known. '^ Lord Clarendon. Account of his own Life, folio, Oxford, 1759, p. 26. " This is that Dr. Earle, who from his youth (I had almost said from his childhood,) for his natural and acquired abilities was so very emi- nent in the university of Oxon; and after was chos- en to be one of the first chaplains to his Majesty (when Prince of Wales) : who knew not hovv" to desert his master, but with duty and loyalty (suita- ble to the rest of his many great virtues, both moral and intellectual,) faithfully attended his Majesty both at home and abroad, as chaplain, and clerk of his majesty's closet, and upon his majesty's happy return, was made Dean of Westminster, and now Lord Bishop of Worcester, (for which, December 7, he did homage to his Majesty,) having this high and rare felicity by his excellent and spotless con- versation, to have lived so many years in the court of England, so near his Majesty, and yet not given the least offence to any man alive ', though both in and out of the pulpit he used all Christian freedom 166 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. against the vanities of this age, being honoured and admired by all who have either known, heard, or read him." White Kennett (Bishop of Peterborough) Re- gister and Chronicle Ecclesiastical and Civil^ folio. London, 1728, page 834. " Dr. Earle, now Lord Bishop of Salisbury, of whom I may justly say, (and let it not oflfend him, because it is such a truth as ought not to be concealed from posterity, or those that now live and yet know him not,) that, since Mr. Hooker died, none have lived whom God hath blessed with more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a more pious, peaceable, primitive temper : so that this excellent person seems to be only like himself, and our venerable Richard Hooker." Walton. Life of Mr. Richard Hooker^ 8vo. Oxford, 1805, i. 327. "This Dr. Earles, lately Lord Bishop of Salisbury. — A person certainly of the sweetest, most obliging nature that lived in our age." Hugh Cresset. E2nstle Apologetical to a Per- son of Honour (Lord Clarendon), 8vo. 1674, page 46. APPENDIX. 167 " Dr. Earle, Bishop of Salisbury, was a man that could do good against evil ; forgive much, and of a charitable heart." Pierce. Conformht's Plea for Nonconformity . 4to, 1681. page 174. No. III. LI8T OF DR. EARLKS WORKS. 1. Microcosmorjraphj/, or a Piece of the World dis- covered^ in Essays and Characters. London. 1628. &c. &c. 12mo. 2. Hooker s Ecclesiastical Polity, translated into Latin. This, says Wood, "is in MS. and not yet printed." In whose possession the MS. was does not appear, nor have I been able to trace it in the catalogue of any public or private collection. 3. Hortas iMertonensis, a Latin Poem, of which Wood gives the first line " Hortus deiiciae domus politae." It is now supposed to be lost. 4. Lines on the Death of /Sir John Burroughs; now printed for the first time. See Appendix, No. lY. 5. Lines on the Death of Earl of Pembroke ; now printed for the first time. See Appendix, No. Y. 6. Elegy upon Francis Beaumont ; first printed at 168 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. the end o^ Beaumont's Poenis, London, 1640. 4to. See Ajipendix, No. VI. 7- Eixojv BatfiXixTj, vel Imar/o Regis Caroli, In iUis sidis jErumnis et Solitacline. Hag f!e- Com it is. Typis S. B. &c. 1649. 12mo. See Appendix, No. VII.i^ 18 Besides the pieces above noticed, several smaller poems vrere undoubtedly in circulation during Earlc's life, the titles of which are not preserved. Wood supposes {Ath. Oxon.) our author to have contributed to ''some of the Figrires of which about temv ere pub- lished,'''' but is iguorant of the exact numbers to be attributed to his pen. In the Bodleian * is " The Figrre of Fovre : mierein are stveet flowers, gathered out of that fndtfidl ground, that I hope will yeeld 2)leasure and profit to all sorts of people. The second Fart, London, Printed for John Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop without Newgate, at the signe of the Bible, 1636." This, hoM'ever, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions, as his initials are af- fixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to shew the nature of the volume. " There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he sweares, a whore when shee wecpes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a traveller when he tels wonders. "• There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among dancers, dumbc among lawyers, dull among schoUers, and rude amongst courtiers. " Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse M'ithout money." Ant. Wood possessed the. ^7^/?'e o/'«>, which, however, is now not to be found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in Ashraole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS. catalogue of that curious collection. * 8vo. L. 78, Art. APPENDIX. 169 No. IV. LIXES ON SIR JOHN B URR UGHS, KILLED BY A BULLET AT REEZ. ^^ [Frotn a MS. in the Bodleian.'] — {Rawl. Poet. 142.) Why did we thus expose thee ? what's now all That island to requite thy funeral ? Though thousand French in Diurder'd heaps do lie, It may revenge, it cannot satisfy : We must bewail our conquest when we see Our price too dear to buy a victory. He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest, That dealt his spirit in t' each English breast, From whose divided virtues you may take So many captains out, and fully make Them each accomplish'd with those parts, the which. Jointly, did his well-furnish'd soul enrich. Not rashly valiant, nor yet fearful wise, His flame had counsel, and his fury, eyes. Not struck in courage at the drum's proud beat, Or made fierce only by the trumpet's heat — When e'en pale hearts above their pitch do fly. And, for a while do mad it valiantly. 19 For an account of the unsuccespfnl expedition to the Isle of Re, under the command of the Duke of Buckingham, see Carte's History of Encjland., vol. iv. page 176, folio, Load. 1755. Sir John Burroughs, a general of considerable renown, who possessed the chief contidence of the Duke, fell in an endeavour to reconnoitre the works of the enemy, Aug. 1027. 22 170 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. His rage was tempered well, no fear could daunt His reason, his cold blood was valiant. Alas ! these vulgar praises injure thee; Which now a poet would as plenteously Give some brag-soldier, one that knew no more Than the fine scabbard and the scarf he wore. Fathers shall tell their children [this] was he, (And they hereafter to posterity,) Rank'd with those forces scourged France of old, Burrough's and Talbot's -^ names together told. J. Earles. No. V. ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF PEMBROKE. 21 {From the same MS.'\ Come, Pembroke lives ! Oh ! do not fright our ears With the destroying truth ! first raise our fears And say he is not well : that will suffice To force a river from the public eyes. 20 Sir John Talbot, first earl of Shrewsbury, of whom see Collins' Peerage^ iii. 9. Holinshed, Rapin, Carte, &c. 21 William, third Earl of Pembroke, son of Henry, Earl of Pem- broke, and Mary, sister to Sir Philip Sidney, was the elder brother of Earle's patron, and Chancellor of Oxford. He died at Baj^nard's castle, April 10, 1630. APPENDIX. 171 Or, if he must be dead, oh ! let the news Speak in astonish'd whispers ] let it use Some phrase without a voice, and be so told, As if the laboring sense griev'd to unfold Its doubtfull woe. Could not the public zeal Conquer the Fates, and save your's ? Did the dart Of death, without a preface, pierce your heart? Welcome, sad weeds — but he that mourns for thee Must bring an eye that can weep elegy. A look that would save blacks : whose heavy grace Chides mirth, and bears a funeral in his face. Whose sighs are with such feeling sorrows blown, That all the air he draws returns a groan. Thou needst no gilded tomb — thy memory. Is marble to itself — the bravery Of jem or rich enamel is mis-spent — Thy noble corpse is its own monument ! Mr. Earles, Mertou. 172 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. No. VI. ON 3IR. BE A UMONT. WRITTEN THIRTY YEARS SINCE, PRESENTLY AFTER HIS DEATH. [From " Comedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen," folio. London. 1647.] Beaumont lies here : And where now shall we have A muse like his to sigh upon his grave ? Ah ! none to weep this with a worthy tear, But he that cannot, Beaumont that lies here. AVho now shall pay thy tomb with such averse As thou that lady's didst, fair Rutland's, herse.-- A monument that will then lasting be, When all her marble is more dust than she. In thee all's lost : a sudden dearth and want Hath seiz'd on writ, good epitaphs are scant. We dare not write thy elegy, whilst each fears He ne'er shall match that copy of thy tears. Scarce in an age a poet, and yet he Scarce lives the third part of his age to see, But quickly taken off and only known, Is in a minute shut as soon as shown. Why should weak Nature tire herself in vain In such a piece, to dash it straight again ? Why should she take such work beyond her skill, Which, when she cannot perfect, she must kill? 22 Elegy on the Countess of Rutland. APPENDIX. 173 Alas ! what is't to temper slime and mire ? But Nature's puzzled wlien she works in fire. Great brains (like brightest glass) crack straight, while those Of stone or wood hold out. and fear not blows ; And we their ancient hoary heads can see "Whose wit was never their mortality. Beaumont dies young, so Sidney did before, There was not poetry he could live to more, He could not grow up higher, I scarce know If th' art itself unto that pitch could grow, Were't not in thee that hadst arriv'd the height Of all that wit could reach, or nature might. when I read those excellent things of thine. Such strength, such sweetness couched in ev'ry line. Such life of fancy, such high choice of brain. Nought of the vulgar wit or borrow'd strain. Such passion, such expressions meet my eye. Such wit untainted with obscenity, And these so unafi'ectedly exprest, All in a language purely flowing drest. And all so born within thyself, thine own, So new, so fresh, so nothing trod upon : 1 grieve not now that old 31enander' s vein Is ruin'd to survive in thee again ) Such, in his time, was he of the same piece, The smooth, even, nat'ral wit and love of Greece. Those few sententious fragments shew more worth. 174 MICROCOSMOGKAPHY. Than all the poets Athens e'er brought forth ; And I am sorry we have lost those hours On them, whose quickness comes far short of ours, And dwell not more on thee, whose ev'ry page May be a pattern for their scene and stage. I will not yield thy works so mean a praise ; More pure, more chaste, more sainted than are plays ; Not with that dull supineness to be read, To pass a fire, or laugh an hour in bed. How do the Muses suffer every where, Taken in such mouth's censure, in such ears. That 'twixt a whiff, a line or two rehearse. And with their rheume together spaul a verse ? This all a poem's leisure after play. Drink, or tobacco, it may keep the day : Whilst ev'n their very idleness they think Is lost in these, that lose their time in drink. Pity then dull we, we that better know. Will a more serious hour on thee bestow. Why should not Beaumont in the morning please, As well as Flautus, Aristophanes ? Who, if my pen may as my thoughts be free. Were scurril wits and buffoons both to thee -, Yet these our learned of severest brow Will deign to look on, and to note them too, That will defy our own, 'tis English stuff, And th' author is not rotten long enough. Alas ! what phlegm are they compar'd to thee, APPENDIX. 175 In thy Philaster^ and Maid's- Tragedy ? Where's such a humour as thy Bessus ? pray Let them put all their Thrasoes in one play, He shall out-bid them ; their conceit was poor, All in a circle of a bawd or whore ; A coz'ning dance ;-'^ take the fool away, And not a good jest extant in a play. Yet these are wits, because they'r old, and now Being Greek and Latin, they are learning too : But those their own times were content t' allow A thii'sty fame, and thine is lowest now. But thou shalt live, and, when thy name is grown Six ages older, shall be better known, When th' art of Chaucer's standing in the tomb. Thou shalt not share, but take up all his room. John Earle. No. VII. DEDICATION OF THE LATIN TRANSLATION " Serenissimo et Potentissimo Monarchae, Carolo Secundo, Dei Gratia Magnae Britannise, Francise et Hiberniae Regi, Fidei Defensori, &c. 23 Qu, " Davus." See Andria of Terence. Theobald's correction. See Dyce's Beaumont and Fletcher. L. 176 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Serenissime Rex, Prodeat jam sub tuis auspiciis ilia patris tui glo- riosissimi imago, ilia qua magis ad Dei similitudi- nem, quam qu^ Rex aut homo accedit. Prodeat vero eo colore peregrino, quo facta omnibus conspectior fiat publica. Ita enim tu voluisti, ut sic lingua omnium communi orbi traderem, in qua utinam feli- ciorem tibi operam navare licuisset, ut illam nativam elegantiam, illam vim verborum et lumina, illam ad- mirabilem sermonis structuram exprimerem. Quod cum fieri (fortasse nee a peritissimis) a me certe non possit, prsestat interim ut cum aliqua venustatis in- juria magnam partem Europae alloquatur, quam intra paucos sua3 gentis clausa apud caeteros omnes conti- cescat. Sunt enim hie velut qu^edam Dei magnaiia quse spargi expedit humano generi, et in omnium Unguis exaudiri : id pro mea facultate curavi, ut si non sensa tauti authoris ornate, at perspicue et fidd traderem, imo nee ab ipsa dictione et phrasi (quan- tum Latini idiomatis ratio permittit) vel minimum recederem, Sacri enim codicis religiosum esse decit interpretem : et certe proxime ab illo sacro et ado- rando codice, (qui in has comparationes non cadit,) spera non me audacem futurum, si dixero nullum inter cseteros mortalium, vel autore vel argumento illustriorem, vel in quo viva magis pietas et eximie Christiana spiratur. Habet vero sanctitas regia nescio quid ex fortunae APPENDIX. 177 sues majestate sublimius quicldam et augustius, et quae imperium magis obtinet in mentes hominum, et revereiitia majore accipitur : quare et his maxime instriimentis usus est Dens, qui illam partem sacras paginae ad solennem Dei cultum pertinentem, psal- mos scilicet, et hymnos : caeteraque ejusraodi per- petuis ecclesias usibus inservitura, transinitterent liominibus, et auctoritatem quandam conciliarent. Quid quod libeutius etiam arripiunt homiues sic objectam et traditam pietatem. Quod et libro huic evenit, et erit magis eventurum, quo jam multo diffusior plures sui capaces invenerit. Magnum erat profecto sic meditari, sic scribere; multo majus sic vivere, sic mori : ut sit haec peue nimia dictu pietas exemplo illius superata. Scit haec ilia orbis pars miserrima jam et contamina- tissima. Utinam banc maturius intellexissent vir- tutem, quam jam sero laudaut, et admirantur amis- sam, nee ilia opus fuisset dirfi fornace, qua, tam eximia regis pietas exploraretur, ex qua nos tantum miseri f\icti sumus, ille omnium felicissimus; cujus ilia pars vitse novissima et asrumnosissima et supre- mus dies, (in quo hominibus, et angelis speetaculum factus stetit animo excelso et interrito, summum j&dei, constantiae patienti^ exemplar, superior malis suis, et tota simul conjesta inferni malitia) omnes omnium tri- umphos et quicquid est liumanae gloriee, superavit. Nihil egistis quot estis, hominum ! (sed nolo 23 178 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. libro sanctissimo quicquam tetrius pracfari, nee quos ille inter preces nominant, maledicere) nihil, iuquam, egistis hoc parricidio, nisi quod ftmiani illius et immortalitatem cum aeterno vestro probro et scelere conjunxistis. Nemo unquam ab orbe condito tot veris omnium lacrymis, tot sinceris hiudibus celebra- tus est. Nulli unquam priucipum in secundis agenti illos fictos plausus vel metus dedit, vel adulatio yendidit, quam hie verissimos expressere fuga, career, theatrum etilla omnium funestissimasecuris, qua obstupe, fecit hostes moriens et ceesus tri- umphavit. Tu interim (Rex augustissime) vera et viva patris, efl&gies, (cujus inter sum mas erat felicitates huma- nas, et in adversis solatium te genuisse, in quo superstite mori non potest) inflammeris maxime hoc mortis illius exemplo, non tam in vindictos cupidi- nem, (in quern alii te extimulent, non ego) quam in heroicte virtutis, et constantiee zelum : hanc vero primum adeas quam nulla vis tibi invito eripiet, hpereditariam pietatem ; et quo es in tuos omnes affectu maxime philostorgo, hunc librum eodem te- cum genitore satum amplectere ; die sapientise, soror mea es, et prudentiam aflfinem voca ; hanc tu con- sule, hanc frequens meditare, hanc imbibe penitus, et in auimam tuam transfuude. Videsin te omnium coujectos oculos, in te omnium bonorum spes sitas ex te omnium vitas pendere, quas jamdiu multi taedio APPENDIX. 179 projecissent, nisi ut essent quas tibi impenderent. Magnum onus incumbit, magna urgent procella, mag- na expectatio, major omnium, quam quae unquam superius, virtutum necessitas : an sit regnum amplius in Britannia futurum, an religio, an homines, an Deus, ex tua virtute, tua fortuna dependet: immo, sola potius ex Deo fortuna ; cujus opem quo magis liic necessariam agnoscis, prsesentaneam requiris, eo magis magisque, (quod jam facis) omni pietatis offi- cio promerearis : et ilia quae in te large sparsit boni- tatis, prudentiae, temperantiae, justitige, et omnis regise virtutis semina foveas, augeas, et in fructum matures, ut tibi Deus placatus et propitius, quod de- traxit patri tuo felicitatis humange, tibi adjiciat, et omnes illius aerumuas conduplicatis in te beneficiis compenset, et appelleris ille restaurator, quem te unice optant omnes et sperant futurum, et ardentis- simis precibus expetit. Majestatistua3humillimus devotissimusque sub- ditus et sacellanus, Jo. Earles. 180 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. No. VIIL INSCRIPTION ON DR. PETER IIEYLIN'S^^ MONU- MENT IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY. [written by dr. EARLE, then dean of WESTMINSTER.] Depositum Mortale Petri Heylyn, S. Th. D. Hujus Ecclesi^ Prebendarii et Subdecani, Viri plane memorabilis, Egregiis dotibus instructissimi, Ingenio aeri et foecundo, Judicio subacto, Memoria ad prodigium tenaci, Cui adjunxit incredibilem iu studiis patientiam, Quvo cessantibus oculis non cessarunt, Scripsit varia et plurima, Quae jam manibus hominum teruntur ; Et argumentis uon vulgaribus Stylo non vulgari suffecit. 24 Peter Hej'lia was born at Bnrford, in Oxfordshire, Nov. 29,1599, and received the rudiments of his education at the free school in that place, from whence he removed to Harthall, and afterwards obtained a fellowship at Magdalen College, Oxford. By the interpo- sition of Bishop Laud, to whom he was recommended by Lord Dauvers, he was presented first to the rectory of Hemingtord, in Hunt- ingdonshire, then to a prebend of Westminster, and lastly to the rectory of Houghton in the Spring, in the diocese of Durham, which latter he exchanged for Alresford, in Hampshire. In 1633 he pro- ceeded D. D. and iu 1638, became rector of South Warnborough, APPENDIX. 181 Et Majestatis Regise assertor Nee florentis magis utriusque Quarn afflictse, Idemque purduellium et scismaticse factionis Impugnator acerrimus. Contemptor invidiae Et animo infracto Plura ejusmodi meditanti Mors indixit silentium : Ut sileatur Efficere non potest. Obiit Anno ^tatis 63, et 8 die Maii, A. D. 1662. Possuit hoe illi maestissima conjux. Hampshire, by exchange with Mr. Atkinson, of St. John's College, for Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1640 he was chosen clerk of the convo- cation for Westminster, and in 1042 followed the king to Oxford. After the death of Charles, he lost all his property, and removing with his family from place to place, subsisted by the exercise of his pen till the Restoration, when he regained his livings, and was made sub-dean of Westminster. His constancy and exertions were sup- posed by many to merit a higher reward, from a government, in whose defence he had sacrificed every prospect ; but the warmth of his temper, and his violence in dispute, were such as rendered his promotion to a higher dignity in the church impolitic in the opinion of the ministers. He died May 8, 1G02, and was interred in West- minster-abbey, under his own stall. A list of his numerous publi- cations, as well as a character of him, may be found in Wood's AtJience, Oxonienses^ ii. 2T5. 182 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. No. IX. CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN DR. EARLE AND MR. BAXTER. [See Kcunett's Register, folio, Loiul. 1723, page 713.] MR. BAXTER TO DR. EARLE. '' Reverend sir. "By the great favour of my lord chancellor's reprehension, I came to understand how long a time I have suffered in my reputation with my superiors by your misunderstanding me, and misinforming others; as if when I was to preach before the king, I had scornfully refused the tippet as a toy; when, as the Searcher and Judge of Hearts doth know, that I had no sucli thought or word. I was so ig- norant in those matters as to think that a tippet had been a proper ensign of a doctor of divinity, and I verily thought that you offered it me as such : and I had so much pride as to be somewhat ashamed when you offered it me, that I must tell you my want of such degrees ; and therefore gave you no answer to your first offer, but to your second was forced to say, "It belongeth not to me. Sir." And I said not to you any more ; nor had any other thought in my heart than with some shame to tell you that I bad no degrees, imagining I should have offended APPENDIX. 183 otliers, and made myself the laughter or scorn of many, if I should have used that which did not belong to me. For I must profess that I had no more scruple to wear a tippet than a gown, or any comely garment. Sir, though this be one of the smallest of all the mistakes which of late I have turned to my wrong, and I must confess that my ignorance gave you the occasion, and I am far from imputing it to any ill will in you, having frequently heard, that in charity, and gentleness, and peaceable- ness of mind you are very eminent ; yet because I must not contemn my estimation with my superiors, I humbly crave that favour and justice of you, (which I am confident you will readily grant me,) as to acquaint those with the truth of this business, whom, upon mistake, you have misinformed, where- by in relieving the innocence of your brother, you will do a work of charity and justice, and therefore not displeasing unto God, and will much oblige, Sir, Your humble servant, Richard Baxter. June 20, 1G62. P. S. I have the more need of your justice in this case, because my distance denieth me access to those that have received these misreports, and be- cause any public vindication of myself, whatever is 184 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. is said of me, is taken as an unsufferable crime, and therefore I am utterly incapable of vindicating my innocency, or remedying their mistakes. " To the reverend and much honoured Dr. Earles, Dean of Westminister, &c. These." DR. EARLE, IN REPLY. Ilcimpf on- Court, June 23. " Sir, " I received your letter, which I would have answered sooner, if the meessenger that brought it had returned. I must confess I was a little sur- prized with the beginning of it, as I was with your name; but when I read further I ceased to be so. Sir, I should be heartily sorry and ashamed to be guilty of any thing like malignity or uncharitable- ness, especially to one of yourcon- O that they were ... . , , , , r all such. — ^^ote by dition, With whom, though 1 concur Mr. Baxter. not perhaps in point of judgment in some particulars, yet I cannot but esteem for your personal worth and abilities ; and, indeed, your ex- pressions in your letter are so civil and ingenuous, that I am obliged thereby the more to give you all the satisfaction I can. As 1 remember, then, when you came to me to the closet, and I told you I would furnish you with a tippet, you answered me something to that purpose APPENDIX. 185 as you write, but whether the same numerical words, or but once, I cannot possibly say from my own memory, and therefore I believe yours. Only this I am sure of, that I said to you at my second These word. I heard speaking, that some others of your s'kgVfroSm.-Ji^^ persuasion had not scrupled at it, hy Mr Baxter. which might suppose (if you had not affirmed the contrary), that you had made me a formal refusal ; of which giving me then no other reason than that " it belonged not to you," Icon- eluded that you were more scrupulous than others were. And, perhaps, the manner of your refusing it (as it appeared to me) might make me think you were not very well pleased with the motion. And this it is likely I might say, either to my lord chan- cellor or others; though seriously I do not remember that I spake to my lord chancellor at all concerning it. But, sir, since you gave me now that modest reason for it, (which, by the way, is no just reason in itself, for a tippet may be worn without a degree, though a hood cannot ) and it is no shame at all to want these formalities for him that wanteth not the substance,) but, sir, I say, since you give that reason for your refusal, I believe you, and shall correct that mistake in myself, and endeavor to rectify it in others, if any, upon this occasion, liave misunder- stood you. In the mean time I shall desire your charitable opinion of myself, which I shall be willing 24 186 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. to deserve upon any opportunity that is offered me to do you service, being, sir, Your very humble servant, Jo. Earles." " To my honoured friend, Mr. Richard Baxter, These." No. X. CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF BOOKS OF CHARACTERS. No. i. A Caueat for commen Cvr setors vvlgavely called Lagahones, set forth hy Thomas Harman. Esquier^for the vtilite and proffijt ofhys naturall Countrey. JVeiv/y agmented and Junfrinted Anno Doinini. M.D.LXUJj. ^ Vewed^ examined^ and allowed^ according vnto the Queenes Maiestyes Liiunctions. [Roughly-executed wood-cut, of two persons receiv- ing punishment at the cart's tail from the hands of a beadle.] Im'printed at London in Fletestret at the signe of the Faulcon hy Wylliam Gry^th, and are to be solde at his shoppe in Saynt Dunstones Churche yarde in the West. [4to. black letter, containing thirty folios, very in- correctly numbered.] APPENDIX. 187 I commence my list of Characters, with a volume, which, although earlier than the period I originally intended to begin from, is of sufficient curiosity and interest to warrant introduction, and, I trust, to obtain pardon from the reader for the additional trouble I am thus preparing for him. Mr. Warton, 'm his History of English Poetry, (iv, 74.) has given, with some trifling errors, a transcript of the title, and says he has a faint remembrance of a Collection of Epigrams, by the author, printed about 1599 : these I have never been fortunate enough to meet with, nor do they appear in the collections of Ames or Herbert, neither of whom had seen a copy of the present work although they they mention Griffith's licence to print it as dated in 1566.'^5 It is dedicated to Elizabeth, countess of Shrewsbury; Mr. Warton thinks " with singular impropriety, " although the motive appears at least to justify the measure, if it does not entitle the author to commen- dation. He addresses this noble lady as a person of extreme benevolence, and " as also aboundantly powrynge out dayly [her] ardent and bountifull chary tie vppon all such as commeth for reliefe." — " I thought it good," he continues, " necessary, and my bounden dutye, to acquaynte your goodnes with 25 111 the epistle to the reader, the author terms it " this second impression." 188 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. the abliominuble, wycked, and detestable behauor of all these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rake belles, that vnder the pretence of great misery, dpseases, and other innumerable calamites whiche they fayne through great hipocrisye, do wyn and gayne great almes in all places where they wyly wander." — On this account, therefore, and to preserve the kindness and liberality of the countess from imposition, Har- mau dedicates his book to that lady. The notorious characters mentioned, are a "ruf- fler ^ -> a upright man ;-' a hoker or angglear; -■" a roge ; -" a wylde roge ; '-^^ a prygger of prauncers ; a 26 A rujler seems to have been a bully as well as a beggar, he is thus described in the Fraternitye of Vacabondes ; (see p. 256.) "A ruffeler goeth wyth a weapon to seeke seruice, saying he hath bene a seruitor in the wars, and beggeth for his reliefe. But his chiefest trade is to robbe poore wayfaring men and market-women." In Neiv Costume a morality, 1573, Creweltie, one of the characters, is termed a riiffler. See also Decker's Belman of London. Sign. C. iv. 27 " An vpright man is one that goeth Avyth the trunchion of a staffe, which sfafle they cal a Flitchma. This man is of so much authority, that meeting with any of his profession, he may cal them to accompt, and comaund a share or snap vnto himselfe of al that they have gained by their trade in one moneth." Fraternitye of Vacabondes. 28 This worthy character approaches somewhat near to a shop- lifter. Decker tells us that " their apparelc in which thej' walke is commonly freize jerkins and gall j^e slops." Belman. Sign. C. iv. 29 A rogue, says Burton, in his MS. notes to Decker's Belman of London, " is not so stoute and [hardy] as the\T)right man. 30 A person Avhose parents were rogues. APPENDIX. 189 pallyarde ; '^i a frater ; ■^~ a Abraham man ; '^'^ a fresh water mariner, or whipiacke ; a counterfet cranke ; -^^ a dommerar : ^^ a dronken tinckar ; ■'^*^ a swadder or pedlar; a jarke man, and a patrico ; '^^ a demaunder for glymmar ; ^'^ a bawdy basket ; -^'^ a antem morte ; ^^ a walking morte ; a doxe ; a dell ; a kynchin morte ; and a kynchen co/' From such a list, several instances of the tricks. 31 "These be called also clapperdogens,'''' and "go with patched clokes." Sign. C, iv. 32 A Frater and a Whi2)k(cke, are persons who travel with a counterfeite license, the latter in the dress of a sailor. See Fra- ter nitye, Belman, &c. 33 "An Abraham-man is he that walketh bare-armed, and bare- legged, and fayneth hymselfe mad, and caryeth a packe of woole or a stycke with baken on it, or such lyke toy, and nameth himselfe Poore Tom." FraternUye of Vacabondes. 34 A person who asks charity, and feigns sickness and disease. 35 One who pretends to be dumb. In Harman's time they were chiefly Welsh-men. 36 An artificer who mends one hole, and makes twenty. 37 AjarTce man can read and write, and sometimes understands a little Latin. A patrico solemnizes their marriages. 38 These are commonly women who ask assistance, feigning that they have lost their property by fire. 39 A woman who cohabits with an upright man, and professes to sell thread, «&c. 40 " These antem mortes be maried wemen, as there be but fewe : for antem, in their language is a churche — " &c. Harman. Sign. E. iv. A loalking morte is one unmarried : a doxe, a dell, and a kynchin morte, are all females ; and a kynchen co is a young boy not thoroughly instructed in the art oi canting scnCi prigging. 190 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. as well as specimens of the language of tlie thieves of the day, might with ease be extracted, did not the limits of my little volume compel me to refrain from entering at large into this history of rogues ; a restriction I the more regret, from its containing several passages illustrating the manners of that period, and which would be found of material use towards explaining many of the allusions met with in our early English dramas, and now but imper- fectly understood. " T A Prygger of Prauncers. (Sign. C. iii. b.) " A prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, and a prauncer is a horse, so beinge put together, the matter is plaine. These go commonly in jerkins of leather or of white frese, & carry little wandes in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pasturs, to search and se horses mete for their purpose. And if thei chaunce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne straighte that they have loste theyr waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste way to suche a place. These will also repayre to gentle- mens houses, and aske theyr cha^'itye, and will offer theyr seruice. And if you aske them what they can doe, they wil saye that they can kepe two or three geldinges, and waite vppon a gentleman. These haue also theyr women that, walkinge from APPENDIX. 191 them in other places, marke where and what they see abrode, and sheweth these priggars therof, when they meete, whych is wythin a weeke or two. And loke, where they steale any thynge, they conuey the same at the leaste three score miles of, or more. There was a gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydynge from London homewarde into Kente, hau- inge within three myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and hys man also, in a pretye village, where diners houses were, and looked about hym where he myghte haue a conuenyent person to walke his horse, because he would speak w^ a farmer that dwelte on the backe side of the sayde village, little aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon hym, as it was mete for his callynge : espieng a priggar there standing, thinkinge the same to dwel there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande still for takynge of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe,) he would geue him a peny to drinke, and so wente about his busines. Thys peltinge priggar, proude of his praye, walketh hys horses vp and downe, till he sawe the gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye he goeth a mayne. This gentleman return- ing, and findyng not his horses, sente his man to the one ende of the village, & he went himselfe vnto 192 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. the other ende, and enquired as he went for hys horses that were walked, and began somewhat to suspecte, because neither he nor his man coulde ney- ther see nor fynde him. Then this gentleman dili- gently enquired of three or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparel, and so manye linamentes of his body as he coulde call to remembraunce. And vna voce, all sayde that no such man dwelte in their streate, neither in the parish that they knewe of, but some did wel remember that suche a one they sawe there lyrkinge and huggeringe^i two houres before the gentleman came thether and a straunger to them. J had thought, quoth this gentleman, he had here dwelled, and marched home mannerly in his botes ; farre from the place he dwelt not. J suppose at his comming home he sente such wayes as he sus- pected or thought mete to search for this prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tidinges agaiue of his palfreys. J had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture that J had amogst others, while this booke was first a printing." At the end of the several characters, the author c:ives a list of the names of the most notorious 41 In Florio's Italian Dictionary, the word dinascoso is explained " secretly, hiddenly, in hugger-mugger.'''' See also Reed's Sliak- speare, xviii. 284. Old Plays, 1T80. viii. 48. APPENDIX. 193 thieves of his day, a collection of the cant phrases used by them, with their significations ; and a dia- logue between an iiprigJife man and a ro(/e^ which I shall transcribe : — " The vpright Cofe canteth to the Roger. The fjji'igJite man spaketh to the roge. 3Ian. Bene lyghtmans to thy quarromes in what lipke hast thou lipped in this darkemanes ; whether in a lybbege or in the struramell ? God morrowe to thy hodye, in what house hast thou lyne in all night whether in a hed^ or in the strawe ? Roge. J couched a hogeshed in a skypper this darkemans. 1 laye me down to sleepe in a barne this night. Man. J towre y^ strummell tryne vpon thy nab- cher & togman. I see the straw hange vpon thy cap and coate. Roge. J saye by the Salomon J wyll lage it of with a gage of bene house then cut to my nose watch. J swcare by the masse J wyll wash it of loith a quart of drinhe then saye to me what thou wilt. Man. Why, hast thou any lowre in thy bouge to bouse ? Wliy, hast thou any money in tliy purse to drinke ? Roge. But a flagge, a wyn, and a make. But a grot., a penny., and a halfe-penny. Man. Why where is the kene that hath the bene bouse ? 25 194 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. TF/iere is the liouse that halh the good drinhe ? Roge. K bene mort hereby at the signe of the prauncer. A good icy fe here hy at the signe of the hors. Man. J cutt it is quyer buose J bousd a flagge the laste darkemans. J saye it is small and naiightye drynke, J dranhe a groate there the last night. Roge. But bouse there a bord, and thou shalt haue beneship. But drinhe there a shyllinge, and thou shcdt haue very good. Tower ye, yander is the kene, dup the gygger, and maund that is beneshype. Se you, yonder is the house, open the doore, and aske/or the best. Man. This bouse is as benshyp as rome bouse. This drinhe is as good as wyne. Now J tower that bene bouse makes nase nabes. Now J se that good drynJce maJces a dronhen heade. Maunde of thismorte whatbene peckeisin her ken. Ashe of this wyfe lohat good meate shee hath in her house. Roge. She hath a eacling chete, a grunting chete, ruff pecke, cassan, and popp^arr of yarum. She hath a hen, a pyg, hahen, chese, and mylhe porrage. APPENDIX. 195 Man. That is beneshyp to oure watche. That is very good for vs. Now we liaue well bouscl, let vs strike some cliete. JSfow loe haiie loell dronhe^ let vs steale some tliinge. Yonder dwelleth a quyere cuffen it were bene- shype to myll bym. Yonher dwelleth a hoggeshe and choyrlyshe man it weave very well donne to rohbe him. Roge. Nowe, bynge we a waste to the hygh pad, the ruflfmanes is by. Naye let vs go hence to the hygh icaye^ the wodes is at hande. Man. So may we happen on the harmanes and cly the jarke, or to the qiiyer ken and skower quy- aer cramp-rings and so to tryning on the chates. So ive maye chaunce to net in the stockes, eyther be whypped^ eyther had to prison-house., and there he shackeled icith holttes and fetters^ and then to hange on the gallowes. \_Rogue.~\ Gerry gan the ruffian clye thee. A corde in thy mouth, the deuylltake thee. Man. What ! stowe you bene cofe and cut benar whydds ; and byng we to some vyle to nyp a bong, so shall we haue lowre for the bousing ken and when we byng back to the deuseauyel, we wyll fylche some duddes of the ruffemans, or myll the ken for a lagge of dudes. What ! holde your peace, good fello ice, and speake 196 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. better worcles ; and go ice to London to cut a purse^ then shal ne heme inoney for the ale-house^ and when we come hacke agayne info the countrey^ we icyll steale some Jynnen clothes of one hedges, or robhe some house /or a hucke of clothes.^' I have been induced, from the curiosity and rarity of this tract, to extend my account of it farther, perhaps, than many of my readers may think reason- able, and shall, therefore, only add a specimen of Harman's poetry, with which the original terminates. " Jg@^ Thus J conclude my bolde beggar's booke, That all estates most playnely maye see; As in a glasse well pollyshed to looke, Their double demeaner in eche degree ; Their lyues, their language, their names as they be ; That with this warning their myndes may be warme i To amende their mysdeedes, and so lyue vnharmed." Another tract of the same description is noticed in Herbert's Ames (p. 885.) as printed so early as in 1565. A copy of the second edition in the Bodleian Library, possesses the following title : — " The Fraternitye of Uacahondes. As icel of ruf- lyng Vacahondes, as of beggerly, of icomen as of men, of gyrles as of boyes, iclth their j^^'oper names and qualities. With a description of the crafty company of Cousoners and Shifters. Whereunto also is ad- ioyned the xxv orders of Knaues, otherwyse called a Quartern of Knaues. Confirmed for euer by APPENDIX. 197 Coche Lorell,^- &c. Imjjrintecl atLondon hy lohn Awdeley^ dn-eUyng in little Britayne streete icitJiout Aldersgate. 1575/' This, althougli mucli shorter than Harman's, contains nearly the same characters, and is therefore thus briefly dismissed. An account of it, drawn up by the editor of the present volume, may be found in Brydges' British Bihliographer ^ vol. ii. p. 12. It may not be amiss to notice in this place, that a considerable part of llie Belman of London, hring- ing to light the most noton'ous villanies that are noio jyractised in the kingdom, c&c. 4to. 1608, is derived from Harman's Caveat. Among the books be- queathed to the Bodleian, by Burton, (4to. G. 8. Art. BS.) is a copy of the Belman, with the several pas- sages so borrowed, marked in the hand-writing of the author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, who has also copied the canting dialogue just given, and added several notes of his own on the maro-in. ii, Ficture of a Puritane^Svo.lQOD. [Dr. Farmer's Sale Catalogue, page 153, No. 3709.] 42 Herbert notices Cock Lorelles Bote, which he describes to be a satire in verse, in which the author enumerates all the most common trades and callings then in being. It was printed, in black letter, Wyukende Worde, 4to. without date. History of Printing, ii. 224, and Percy's Reliques, i. LST. edit. 1794. 198 MICEOCOSMOGRAPHY. iii. '' A Wife now the Widdow of Sir Thomas Overbvrye. Being a most ex.quisite and singu- lar- Poem of the Choice of a Wife. Wherevnto are added many witty Characters^ and conceited Meives, written hy himself and other learned Gentlemen his friends. Dignum laude vii'um musa vetat mori, Cselo musa beat. Hor. Car. lib. 3. London Printed for Lawrence Lisle, and are, to hee sold at his shop in Panics Church-yard^ at the siyne of the Tiger^s head. 1614." ^-^ [4to. pp. 61, not numbered.] Of Sir Thomas Overbury's life, and unhappy end, we have so full an account in the Biographia, and the various historical productions, treating of the period in which he lived, that nothing further will be expected in this place. His Wife and Chnracters were printed, says Wood, several times during his life, and the edition above noticed, was supposed, by 43 In 1614 appeared The Hmbancl, a Poeme, expressed in a com- pleat man. See Censiira Liieraria., v. 365. John Davies, of Here- ford, wrote A Select Second Hvsband for Sir Thomas Overbvries Wife, noiv a matchlesse widoiv. 8vo. Lond. 1616. And in 1673 was published, The Illustrious Wife, viz. That excellent Poem, Sir Tho- mas Overbvries Wife, illustrated by Giles Oldisworth, Neiiheio to the same Sir T. 0. APPENDIX. 199 the Oxford biographer, to be the fourth or fifth. 'i^ Having never seen a copy of the early editions, I am unable to fix on any character undoubtedly the pro- duction of Overbury, and the printer confesses some of them were written by " other learned gentlemen/' These were greatly encreased in subsequent impres- sions, that of 1614 having only twenty-one cha- racters, and that in 1622 containing no less than eighty. A COURTIER, — (^Sign. C. 4. h.') To all men's thinking is a man, and to most men the finest: all things else are defined by the under- standing, but this by the sences; but his surest marke is, that hee is to bee found onely about princes. Hee smells ; and putteth away much of his judgement about the scituation of his clothes. Hee knowes no man that is not generally knowne. His wit, like the marigold, openeth with the sunne,. and therefore he riseth not before ten of the clocke. 44 It was most probably the fifth, as Mr. Capel, who has printed the Wife, in his very curious vohime, entitled Prolimons, 8vo. Lond. 1760, notices two copies in 1614, one in Svo. Avhich I suppose to be the third, and one in 4to. stated in the title to be the fourth edition : the sixth was in the following year, 1G15 ; the seventh, eight, and ninth were in 1616, the eleventh in 1622, twelfth in 1627, thirteenth 162S, fourteenth, 1630, fifteenth, 1632, sixteenth, 1638, and Mr. Brand possessed a copy, the specific edition of which I am unable to state, printed in 1655. Catalogue, No. 4927. 200 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Hee puts more confidence in his words than mean- ing, and more in his pronuntiation than his words. Occasion is his Cupid, and hee hath but one receipt of making loue. Hee followes nothing but incon- stancie, admires nothing but beauty, honours nothing but fortune. Loues nothing. The sustenance of his discourse is newes, and his censure like a shot depends vpon the charging. Hee is not, if he be out of court, but, fish-like, breathes destruction, if out of his owne element. Neither his motion, or aspect are regular, but he mooues by the vpper spheres, and is the reflexion of higher substances. If you finde him not heere, you shall in Paules with a pick-tooth in his hat, a cape cloke, and a long stocking. iv. " Sati/rical Essai/es, Cliaracters, and others, or accurate and quick Descriptions, fitted to the ■ life of their Suhiects. tojv y^Srwv (5/^ (puXar]c:^a» [koKKov hi rj Touf ^X^^^' Theophras. Aspice et hsec, si forte aliquid decociius audis, Jude vaporata Lector mihiferucat aure. luuen. Plagosus minime Plagiarhis. John Stephens. London, Printed hy Nicholas Okes, and are to he sold hy Roger Barnes, at his Shop in St. Dunstane's Church-yard. 1G15." [8vo. pp. 321. title, preface, &c. 14 more.] APPENDIX. 201 In a subsequent impression of this volume, 8vo. in the same year, and with a fresh title page, dated 1631,^-5 we find the author to be -'John Stephens the younger, of Lincoln's Inn :" no other particulars of him appear to exist at present, excepting that he was the author of a play entitled, Ginthias Revenge; or, Msenanders Extasie. Lond. for Barnes, 1613, 4to. " which," says Langbaine, " is one of the longest plays I ever read, and withal the most tedious/^ Ben Jonson addressed some lines^*^ to the author, whom he calls " his much and worthily esteemed friend," as did F. C, Gr. Rogers, and Thomas Danet. Stephens dedicates his book to Thomas Turner, Esq. For the sake of a little variety I give one 45 Coxeter, in his MSS. notes to Gildon's Lives of the Eng. Dram. Poets., in the Bodleian, says that the second edition was in 8vo. 1613, '■'■Essays and Characters., Ironical and Instructite^'''' but this must be a mistake. 46 " Who takes thy volume to his vertuous hand, Must be intended still to vnderstand : Who bluntly doth but looke vpon the same, May aske, ichat axithor woxdd conceale his name ? Who reads may roaue, and call the passage darke. Yet may as blind men, sometimes hit the marke. Who reads, who roaues, who hopes to \Tiderstand, May take thy volume to his vertuous hand. Who cannot reade, but onely doth desire To vnderstand, hee may at length admire. B. I. ' 26 202 MICROCOSMOGRAPHT. of his " three satyricall Essayes on Cowardliuesse/ which are written in verse. ESSAY I. '' Feare to resist good virtue's common foe, And feare to loose some lucre, which doth grow By a continued practise ; makes our fate Banish (with single combates) all the hate, Which broad abuses challenge of our spleene. For who in Yertue's troope was euer scene. That did couragiously with mischiefes fight, Without the publicke name of hipocrite ? A^aine-glorious, malapert, precise, deuout. Be tearmes which threaten those that go about To stand in opposition of our times With true defiance, or satyricke rimes. Cowards they be, branded among the worst. Who (through contempt of Atheisme), neuer durst Crowd neere a great man's elbow to suggest Smooth tales with glosse, or Enuy well addrest. These be the noted cowards of our age ; Who be not able to instruct the stage With matter of new shamelesse impudence : Who cannot almost laugh at innocence ; And purchase high preferment by the waies. Which had bene horrible in Nero's dayes. APPENDIX. 203 They are the shamefull cowards, who contemne Vices of sttite, or cannot flatter them ; Who can refuse advantage, or deny Villanous courses, if they can espye Some little purchase to inrich their chest Though they become vu comfortably blest. We still account those cowards, who forbeare (Being possess'd with a religious feare) To slip occasion, when they might erect Homes on a tradesman's noddle, or neglect The violation of a virgin's bed With promise to requite her maiden-head. Basely low-minded we esteeme that man AVho cannot swagger well, or (if he can) Who doth not with implacable desire. Follow revenge with a consuming fire. Extortions rascals, when they are alone, Bethinke how closely they have pick'd each bone, Nay, with a frolicke humour, they will brag. How blancke they left their empty client's bag. Which dealings if they did not giue delight, Or not refresh their meetings in despight, They would accounted be both weake, vnwise. 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 inuite. By some lasciuious trickes his deere delight, 204 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. If then he doth abhorre such wanton ioy ; Whose is not almost ready to destroy Ciuility with curses, when he heares The tale recited ? blaming much his years, Or modest weaknesse, and with cheeks ful-blown Each man will wish the case had beene his own. Graue holy men, whose habite will imply Nothing but honest zeale, or sanctity, Nay so vprighteous will their actions seeme As you their thoughts religion will esteeme. Yet these all-sacred men, who daily giue Such vowes, wold think themselves vnfit to liue, If they were artlesse in the flattering vice, Euen as it were a daily sacrifice : Children deceiue their parents with expence : Charity layes aside her conscience, And lookes vpon the fraile commodity Of monstrous bargaines with a couetous eye : And now the name of generosity^ O^nohle cariage or hraue dignity^ Keepe such a common skirmish in our bloud, As we direct the measure of things good, By that, which reputation of estate, Glory of rumor, or the present rate Of sauing pollicy doth best admit. We do employ materials of wit. Knowledge, occasion, labour, dignity, Among our spirits of audacity, APPENDIX. 205 Nor in our gainefull proiects do we care For what is pious, but for what we dare. Good humble men, who haue sincerely layd Saluation for their hope, we call afraid But if you will vouchsafe a patient eare, You shall perceiue, men impious haue most feare." The second edition possesses the following title — " New Essay es and Characters^ loitli a neio Satyr e in defence of the Common Law^ and Lawyers : mixt loith reproof e against their Enemy Ignoramus, &c. London, 16B1." It seems not improbable that some person had attacked Stephens's first edition, although I am unable to discover the publication alluded to. I suspect him to be the editor of, or one of the con- tributors to, the later copies of Sir Thomas Over- bury's Wife, &c. : since one of Stephens's friends, (a Mr, I. Cocke) in a poetical address prefixed to his New Essayes, says "I am heere enforced to claime 3 characters following the Wife ;^7 viz., the Tinker, the Ajjparatour, and Almanac-maker, that I may signify the ridiculous and bold dealing of an vnknowne botcher ; but I neede make no question what he is ; for his hackney similitudes discouer him to be the rayler above-mentioned, whosoeuer that rayler be." 47 These were added to the sixth edition of the Wife, in 1615. 206 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. V. Caracfers upon Ussaies, morall and dim'ne, lorit- ten for tJiose good spirits that will take them in good part ^ and make use of them to good pur- pose. London : Printed hy Edw. Gri^n for John Guillim and are to he sold at his shop in Britaines Burse. 1615. 12mo. [Censura Literaria, v. 51. Monthly Mirror, xi. 16.] vi. The Good and the Badde, or Descriptions of the Worthies and Vnworthies of this age. Where the Best may see their Graces^ and the Worst discerne their Basenesse. London, printed hy George Purslowe for lohn Budge, and are to he sold at the great South-dore of Paules, arid at Brittaines Bursse. 1616. [4to, containing pp. 40, title, dedication "to Sir Gril- bert Houghton, Knight," and preface six more, A second edition appeared in 1643, under the title of England's Selected Characters, c&c] The author of these characters ^s was Nicholas 48 These are a king ; a queen ; a prince ; a privy-counsellor ; a noble man ; a bishop ; a judge ; a knight ; a gentleman ; a lawyer ; a soldier ; a physician ; a merchant (their good and bad characters); a good man, and an atheist or most bad man ; a wise man and a APPENDIX. 207 Breton, who dedicates them to Sir Gilbert Houghton, of Houghton, Knight. Of Breton no particulars are now known, excepting what may be gained from an epitaph in Norton church, Northamptonshire, "^^ by which we learn that he was the son of Captain Breton, of Tamworth, in Staffordshire, and served himself in the Low Countries, under the command of the Earl of Leicester. He married Anne, daugh- ter of Sir Edward Legh, or Leigh, of Bushell, Staffordshire, by whom he had five sons and four daughters, and having purchased the manor of Nor- ton, died there June 22, 1624.-50 Breton appears to have been a poet of conside- rable reputation among his contemporaries, as he is noticed with commendation by Puttenhem and Meres : Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges declares that his poeti- cal powers were distinguished by a simplicity, at once easy and elegant. Specimens of his productions in verse, may be found in Percy's Reliques^ Ellis's fool ; an honest man and a knave ; an usurer ; a beggar ; a virgin and a wanton woman ; a quiet woman ; an unquiet woman ; a good wife ; an effeminate fool ; a parasite ; a bawd ; a drunkard ; a coward ; an honest poor man ; a just man ; a repentant sinner ; a reprobate ; an old man ; a young man, and a holy man. 49 It is by no means certain that this may not be intended to per- petuate the memory of some other person of the same names, although Mr. Gough, in a note to the second volume of Queen Elizabeth'' s Pro- gresses^ seems to think it belongs to our author. 50 Bridge's Northam2)tomhire, vol. ii. page 78, s. Shaw's Staf- fordshire, vol. i. page 422. 208 MICKOCOSMOGRAPHY. Specimens^ Cooper's Muses' Library, Censura Lite- rara ; and an imperfect list of his publications is given by Ritson, in the Bihliograpliia Poctica, which is augmented by Mr. Park, in the Cens. Lit. ix. 163.51 A WORTHIE PRIUIE COUNCELLER. A worthy priuie counceller is the pillar of a realme, in whose wisedome and care, vnder God and the king, stands the safety of a kingdome ; he is the watch-towre to giue warning of the enemy, and a hand of prouision for the preseruation of the state j hee is an oracle in the king's eare, and a sword in the king's hand, and euen weight in the ballance of 51 To these lists of Breton's productions may be added, 1. A So- lemne Passion of the SouWs Loue. 4to. Lond. 1598. 2. The 3fother's Blessing. 4to, Lond.lGO^. 3. A Trve Description of vnthankf itlnesse ; w an enemie to Ingratitude. 4to, Lond. 1602. 4. Breton's Longing, 4to, title lost in the Bodleian copj^ : prefixed are verses by H. T. gent. 5. A Poste with a packet of Mad Letters. 4to, 1633, dedi- cated by Nicholas Breton, to Maximilian Dallison of Hawlin, Kent. The last tract excepted, all the above are in a volume bequeathed by Bishop Tanner to the university ot Oxford, which contains many of the pieces noticed by Ritson, and, in addition. The Passion of a dis- contented Minde. 4to, Lond. 1602, which I should have no hesitation in placing to Breton. At the end of the volume are The Passions of the Spirit, and Excellent Vercis ivortherj imitation of euery Christian in ihier Conuersiation, both in manuscript, and, if we may judge from the style, evidently by the author before mentioned. For the Figures, in the composition of which he had certainly a share, see page 224. APPENDIX. 209 justice, and a light of grace in the loue of truth ; he is an eye of care in the course of lawe, a heart of loue in the seruice of his soueraigne, a mind of honour in the order of his seruice, and a braine of inuention for the good of the common-wealth ; his place is powerful, while his seruice is faithfull, and his ho- nour due in the desert of his employment. In summe, he is as a fixed planet mong the starres of the firma- ment, which through the clouds in the ay re, shewes the nature of his lioht. AN VNWORTHIE COUNCELLER. An vnworthie counceller is the hurt of a king, and the danger of a state, when the weaknes of judgement may commit an error, or the lacke of care may give way to vnhappinesse : he is a wicked charme in the kings eare, a sword of terror in the in the aduice of tyranny : his power is perillous in the partiality of will, and his heart full of hollow- nesse in the protestation of loue : hypocrisie is the couer of his counterfaite religion, and traitorous inuention is the agent of his ambition : he is the cloud of darknesse, that threatneth foule weather, and if it growe to a storme, it is feareful where it falls : hee is an enemy to God in the hate of grace, and worthie of death in disloyalty to his soueraigne. 27 210 MICKOCOSMOGRAPHY. In summe, he is an vnfit person for the place of a counceller, and an vnworthy subject to looke a king- in the face. AN EFFEMINATE FOOL. An effeminate foole is the figure of a baby ; he loues nothing but gay, to look in a glasse, to keepe among wenches, and to play with trifles ; to feed on sweet meats, and to be daunced in laps, to be im- braced in armes, and to be kissed on the cheeke : to talke idlely, to looke demurely, to goe nicely, and to laugh continually : to be his mistresse' servant, and her mayd's master, his father's love, and his mother's none-child : to play on a fiddle, and sing a loue-song, to weare sweet gloues, and look on fine things : to make purposes and write verses, de- uise riddles, and tell lies : to follow plaies, and study daunces, to heare newes, and buy trifles : to sigh for loue, and weepe for kindnesse, and mourne for company, and bee sicke for ffishion : to ride in a coach, and gallop a hackney, to watch all night, and sleepe out the morning : to lie on a bed, and take tobacco, and to send his page of an idle-message to his mistresse ; to go vpon gigges, to haue his ruff"es set in print, to picke his teeth, and play with a pup- APPENDIX. 211 pet. In summe, hee is a man-childe, and a woman's man, a gaze of folly, and wisedome's griefe.ss Very aptly deuised by N. B. G-ent. [From " The Phoenix Nest. Built vp icith the most rare and refined loorJces of Nohle men, woorthi/ Knights, gallant Gentlemen, Masters of Arts, and hraue Schollers," &c.^ " Set foorth hy R. S. of the Inner Temple, Gentleman^' 4to. London, hy lohn lackson, 1593, pa^e 28.] A secret many yeeres vnseene. In play at cliesse, wlio knowes the game, First of the King, and then the Queene, Knight, Bishop, Rooke, and so by name. Of enerie Pawne I will descrie. The nature with the qualitie. THE KING. The King himselfe is haughtie care, Which ouerlooketh all his men, 52 1 am not aware that the following specimen of his versification, which is curious, has been reprinted. 212 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. And when lie seeth liow they fare He steps among them now and then, Whom, when his foe presumes to checke, His seruants stand, to giue the necke. THE QUEENE. The Queene is queint, and quicke conceit. Which makes hir walke which way she list. And rootes them vp, that lie in wait To worke hir treason, ere she wist: Hir force is such against hir foes That whom she meetes, she ouerthrowes. THE KNIGHT. The Knight is knowledge how to fight Against his prince's enimies, He neuer makes his walke outright, But leaps and skips, in wilie wise. To take by sleight a traitrous foe. Might slilie seeke their ouerthrowe. THE BISHOP. The Bishop he is wittie braine. That chooseth crossest pathes to pace, And euermore he pries with paine. To see who seekes him most disgrace : Such straglers when he findes astraie He takes them vp, and throwes awaie. APPENDIX. 213 THE ROOKES. The Kookes are reason on both sides, Which keepe the corner houses still, And warily stand to watch their tides, By secret art to worke their will. To take sometime a theefe vnseene, Might mischiefe meane to King or Queene. THE PAWNES. The Pawne before the King, is peace, Which he desires to keepe at home, Practise, the Queene's, which doth not cease Amid the world abroad to roame. To finde, and fall upon each foe. Whereas his mistres meanes to goe. Before the Knight, is perill plast, Which he, by skipping ouergoes. And yet that Pawne can worke a cast, To ouerthrow his greatest foes ; The Bishop's prudence, prieng still Which way to worke his master's will. The Rooke's poore Pawnes, are sillie swaines. Which seeldome serue, except by hap. And yet those Pawnes, can lay their traines. To catch a great man, in a trap : So that I see, sometime a groome May not be spared from his roome. 214 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. THE NATURE OF THE CHESSE MEN. The King is stately, looking hie ; The Queene doth beare like maiestie : The Knight is hardie, valiant, wise : The Bishop prudent and precise. The Rookes no raungers out of raie,53 The Pawnes the pages in the plaie. LENVOY. Then rule with care, and quicke conceit, And fight with knowledge, as with force ; So beare a braine, to dash deceit. And worke with reason and remorse. Forgive a fault when young men plaie, So giue a mate, and go your way. And when you plaie beware of checke, Know how to saue and giue a neeke : And with a checke beware of mate; But cheefe, ware, had I wist too late : Loose not the Queene, for ten to one, If she be lost, the game is gone." 53 Bate, for array ; order, rank. So Spencer. " And all the damzels of that towne in ray, Came dauncing forth, and ioyous carrols song : " Faerie Queene, book v. canto xi. 34. APPENDIX. 215 vii. Essay es and Characters of a Prison and Prison- ers. Written hi/ G. M. of Grayes^-Inne, Gent. (Woodcut of a keeper standing with the hatch of a prison open, in his left hand a staff, the following lines at the side ; ** Those that keepe mee, I keepe ; if can, will still : Hee's a true laylor strips the Diuell in ill.") Printed at London for Mathew Walhancke and are to he solde at his shops at the new and old Gate of Grayes-lnne, 1618. [4to. pp. 48. title, dedication, &c. eight more.] A second edition appeared in 1638, and, as the title informs us, " with some new additions : " what these were I am not able to state, as my copy, al- though it appears perfect, contains precisely the same with that of 1618. Of Greffray Mynshul, as he signs his name to the dedication, I can learn no particulars, but I have reason to suppose him descended from an ancient and highly respectable family, residing at Minshull, in the county of Chester,^^ during the sixteenth and 54 In the church of St. Mary, at Nantwich, in that county, is a monument erected by Geofry Minshull, of Stoke, Esq. to the me- mory of his ancestors. Historical Account of Nantwich, 8vo. 1774, page 33. King, in his Vale Royal of England, folio, Lond. 1656, page 74, speaks of Minshall-hall, "a very ancient seat, which hath con- tinued the successions of a worshipful race in its own name"— &c. 216 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. seventeenth centuries. By what mishap he became an inmate of the Kings'-bench prison, from when he dates "55 his Essaf/s, it is impossible to conjecture, but as he talks of usury and extortion, as well as of severe creditors; and advises those who are com- pelled to borrow, to pay as soon as they can we, may suppose that imprudence and extravagance assisted in reducing him to the situation he attempts to de- scribe. In the dedication to his uncle, " Mr Matthew Mainwaring, -^^ of Namptwich, in Cheshire, " he says: — " Since my comming into this prison, what with the strangenesse of the place, and strictnesse of my liberty, I am so transported that I could not follow that study wherein I tooke great delight and cheife pleasure, and to spend my time idley would but adde more discontentments to my troubled brest, and being in this chaos of discontentments, fanta- sies must arise, which will bring forth the fruits of an idle braine, for e malis minimum. It is farre better to giue some accompt of time, though to little purpose, than none at all. To which end I gathered a handfuU of essayes, and fow characters of such 55 This place of residence was omitted in the second edition. 56 The Mainwariugs were an old family of repute, being mentioned as residing near Nantwich, hj Leiand, Jtin. vol. 7. pt. i. fol. 43. See also the list of escheators of Cheshire, in Leycester's Historical Antiquities, folio, Lond. 1673, p. 186. APPENDIX. 217 things as by my owne experience I could say Proha- tum est : not that thereby I should either please the reader, or shew exquisitenes of inuention, or curious stile ; seeing what I write of is but the child of sor- row, bred by discontentments, and nourisht vp with misfortunes, to whose help melancholly Saturne gaue his iudgement, the night-bird her inuention, and the ominous rauen brought a quill taken from his owne wing, dipt in the inke of misery, as chiefs ayders in this architect of sorrow." " CHARACTER OF A PRISONER. A prisoner is an impatient patient, lingering vnder the rough hands of a cruell phisitian : his creditor hauing cast his water knowes his disease, and hath power to cure him, but takes more plea- sure to kill him. He is like Tantalus, who hath freedome running by his doore, yet cannot enjoy the least benefit thereof. His greatest griefe is that his credit was so good and now no better. His land is drawne within the compasse of a sheepe's skin, and his owne hand the fortification that barres him of entrance : hee is fortunes tossing-bal, an obiect that would make mirth melancholy : to his friends an abiect, and a subject of nine days' wonder in euery barber's shop, and a mouthfull of pitty (that 28 218 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. lie had no better fortune) to midwiues and talkatiue gossips ; and all the content that this transitory life can giue him seemes but to flout him, in respect the restraint of liberty barres the true vse. To his fa- miliars hee is like a plague, whom they dare scarce come nigh for feare of infection, he is a monument ruined by those which raysed him, he spends the day with a Jiei mihi! ve miserum ! and the night with a nullis est medicahilis herhis." viii. Cvres for the Itch. Characters. Epigrams. Epitaphs. By H. P. Scalpat qui tangitur. London, Printed for Thomas Tones, at the signe of the Blacke Rauen in the Strand. 1626. [8vo. containing pp. 142, not numbered.] I have little doubt but that the initials H. P. may be attributed with justice to Tlenry Parrot, author of Laquei ridiculosi : or, Springes for Woodcocks, a collection of epigrams, printed at London in 1613, •''' 8vo. and commended by Mr. Warton, who says, that " many of them are worthy to be revived 57 Mr. Steevens quotes an editiou in 1606, but the preface ex- pressly states, that they were composed in 1611.—" Duo propemo- clumanni elapsi sunt, ex quoprimiim Ejngramjnata hcec (gualia- cvnque) raptim etfestinanter perjiciebam "— &c. APPENDIX. 219 in modern collections. ^^ To the same person I would also give The 3Iastive, or Young Whelpe of the Old Dogge. Uj^igrams and Satyrs. Lond. (Date cut off in the Bodleian copy,) 4to. — The Mouse Trap^ consisting q/100 Epigrams 4to. 1606. — Epigrams hy H. P. ^to, 1608.— and The More the Merrier : containing three-score and odde headlesse Epigrams^ shot {like the Fooles holt^ amongst t/ou, light wliere they will, 4to. 1608.^9 It appears from the Preface to Cores for the Itch, that the Epigrams and Epitaphs were written in 1624, during the author's residence in the country, at the " long vacation,^' and the Characters ^o which are " not so fully perfected as was meant,'' were composed " of later times." The following afford as fair a specimen of this part of the volume as can be produced. " A SCOLD. (B. 5.) Is a much more heard of, then least desired to bee seene or knowne, she-kinde of serpent; the ve- 58 History of English Poetry, iv. 73. 59 Censura Liter aria, iii, 387, 388. 60 These consist of a ballacl-maker ; a tapster ; a drunkard; a rec- tified young man; a young nouice's new younger wife; a common fidler ; a broker ; a iouiall good fellow ; a humourist ; a malepart yong upstart ; a scold ; a good wife, and a selfe conceited parcell- witty old dotard. 220 MTCROCOSMOGRAPHY. nom'd sting of whose poysonous tongue, worse then the biting of a scorpion, proues more infectious farre then can be cured. Shee's of all other creatures most vntameablest, and couets more than the last word in scoulding, then doth a Combater the last stroke for victorie. She lowdest lifts it standing at her door, bidding, w^'' exclamation, flat defiance to any one sayes blacke's her eye. She dares appeare before any iustice, nor is least daunted with the sight of a counstable, nor at worst threatnings of a cucking-stoole. There's nothing mads nor moues her more to outrage, then but the very naming of a wispe, or if you sing or whistle when she is scould- ing. If any in the interim chance to come with- in her reach, twenty to one she scratcheth him by the face ; or doe but offer to hold her hands, sheel presently begin to cry out murder. There's nothing pacifies her but a cup of sacke, which tak- ing in full measure of digestion, shee presently for- gets all wrongs that's done her, and thereupon falls streight a weeping. Doe but intreat her with faire words, or flatter her, she then confesseth all her im- perfections, and layes the guilt vpon the whore her mayd. Her manner is to talke much in her sleepe, what wrongs she hath indured of that rogue her husband, whose hap may be in time to dye a martyr; and so I leaue them.'^ APPENDIX. 221 " A GOOD WIFE, Is a world of happiness, that brings with it a kingdom in conceit, and makes a perfect adiunct in societie ; shee's such a comfort as exceeds content, and proues so precious as canot be paralleld, yea more inestimable then may be valued. Shee's any good man's better second selfe, the very mirror of true constant modesty, the careful! huswife of frugalitie, and dearest obiect of man's heart's feli- citie. She commands with mildnesse, rules with discretion. Hues in repute, and ordereth all things that are good or necessarie. Shee's her husband's solace, her house's ornament, her children's succor, and her seruant's comfort. Shee's (to be briefe) the eye of warinesse, the tongue of silence, the hand of labour, and the heart of loue. Her voice ismusicke, her countenance meeknesse; her minde vertuous, and her soule gratious. Shee's a blessing giuen from God to man, a sweet companion in his affliction, and ioynt co-partner upon all occasions. Shee's (to conclude) earth's chiefest paragon, and will bee, when shee dyes, heauen's dearest creature." 222 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. ix. diaracters of Virtves and Vices. In two Bookes. By los. Hall. Imprinted at London^ 1627. The above is copied from a separate title in the collected works of Bishop Hall, printed in folio, and dedicated to James the First. The book, I believe, originally appeared in 8vo. 1008.^ ^ Of this edition I have in vain endeavored to procure some informa- tion, although I cannot fancy it to be of any pecu- liar rarity. The volume contains a dedication to Edward Lord Denny, and James Lord Hay, a premonition of the title and use of characters, the proemes, eleven vir- tuous characters, and fifteen of a different discription. As Bishop Hall's collected works have so lately ap- peared in a new edition, and as Mr. Pratt"- proposes to add a life of the author in a subsequent volume, I shall forbear giving any specimen from the works or biographical notices of this amiable prelate, re- commending the perusal of his excellent productions, to all who admire the combination of sound sense with unaffected devotion. 61 See Brand's Sale Catalogue. 8vo. 1807, page 115, No. 3147. 62 See the Gentlemen's Magazine for October, 1810, LXXXI, 317. APPENDIX. 223 X. Micrologia. Characters^ or Ussayes, of Persons, Trades, and Places, offered to the City and Country. By R. M. Printed at London hy T. C. for Michael Sparke, dwelling at the blue Bible, in Greene Arbor. 1629. [8vo. containing 56 pages, not numbered.] The characters in this volume are " A fantasticke taylor ; a player ; a shooe-maker ; a rope-maker j a smith ; a tobacconist; a cunning woman ; a cobler ; a tooth-drawer ; a tinker ; a fidler ; a cunning horse- courser; Bethlem; Ludgate ; Bridewell; (and) New- gate.''— "A PLAYER. — (^Sign. B. iii.) Is a volume of various conceits or epitome of time, who by his representation and appearance makes things long past seeme present. He is much like the compters in arithmeticke, and may stand one while for a king, another while a begger, many times as a mute or cypher. Sometimes hee represents that which in his life he scarse practises — to be an ho- nest man. To the point, hee oft personates a rover, and therein comes neerest to himselfe. If his ac- tion prefigure passion, he raues, rages, and protests 224 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. much by his painted heauens, and seemes in the heighth of this fit ready to pull loue out of the gar- ret, where pershance hee lies leaning on his elbowes, or is imployed to make squips and crackers to grace the play. His audience are often-times iudicious, but his chiefs admirers are commonly young wanton chamber-maids, who are so taken with his posture and gay clothes, they neuer eome to be their owne women after. Hee exasperates men's enormities in publike view, and tels them their faults on the stage, not as being sorry for them, but rather wishes still hee might finde more occasions to worke on. He is the generall corrupter of spirits, yet vntainted, in- ducing them by gradation to much lasciuious depra- uity. He is a perspicuity of vanity in variety, and suggests youth to perpetrate such vices, as other- wise they had haply nere heard of. He is (for the most part) a notable hypocrite, seeming what he is not, and is indeed what hee seemes not. And if hee lose one of his fellow stroules, in the summer he turnes king of the gipsies : if not, some great man's protection is a sufficient warrant for his peregrina- tion, and a meanes to procure him the town-hall, where hee may long exercise his qualities, with clown-claps of great admiration, in a tone sutable to the large eares of his illiterate auditorie. Hee is one seldome takes care for old age, because ill diet and disorder, together with a consumption, or some APPENDIX. 225 worse disease, taken vp in liis full careere, haue onely chalked out his catastrophe but to a colon : and he scarsely suruiues to his natural} period of dajes." xi. Whimzies ; Or, A new Cast of Characters. Novo, noil nota delectant. London, Printed hy F. K. and are to he sold hy Ambrose Ritliir- don, at the signe of the BidV s-head, in PauFs Church-yard. 1631. [12mo. containing in all, pp. 280.] The dedication to this volume, which is inscribed to sir Alexander Radcliffe,\s signed " Clitiis - Alex- andrinus ;" the author's real name I am unable to discover. It contains twenty-four characters, "^ be- sides " A eater-character^ throwne out of a hoxe hy an experienced gamester ;'' ^^ and some lines " vpon 63 An Almanack-maker : a ballad-monger ; a corranto-coiner : a decoy ; an exchange man ; a forrester ; a gamester ; an hospitall- man ; a iaylor ; a keeper ; a launderer ; a metall man ; a neuter ; an ostler ; a post-master ; a quest-man ; a ruffian ; a sailor ; a trauller ; an vnder sheriffe ; a wine-soaker ; a Xantippean ; a jealous neigh- bor; a zealous brother. 64 This eater-character, which possesses a separate title page, con- tains delineations of an apparator ; a painter ; a pedler ; and a piper. 29 226 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. the birth-day of his sonne lohn," of which the first will be sufficient to satisfy all curiosity. " God blesse thee, lohn, And make thee such an one That I may ioy in calling thee my son. Thou art my ninth, and by it I divine That thou shalt live to love the Muses nine." — &c., &c. " A CORRANTO-COINER — (p. 15.) Is a state newes-monger ; and his owne genius is his intelligencer. His mint goes weekely, and he coines monie by it. Howsoeuer, the more intelli- gent merchants doe jeere him, the vulgar doe admire him, holding his novels oracular : and these are usually sent for tokens or intermissiue curtsies be- twixt city and countrey. Hee holds most constantly one forme or method of discourse. He retaines some militarie words of art, which hee shootesat randome ; no matter where they hitt, they cannot wound any. He ever leaves some passages doubtfull, as if they were some more intimate secrecies of state, dozing his sentence abruptly with — heereafter you shall heare more. Which words, I conceive, he onely APPENDIX. 227 useth as baites, to make the appetite of the reader iQore eager in his next week's pursuit for a more satisfying labour. Somegenerall-erring relations he pickes up, as crummes or fragments, from a frequent- ed ordinarie : of which shreads he shapes a cote to fit any credulous foole that will weare it. You shall never observe him make any. reply in places of pub- like concourse ; hee ingenuously acknowledges him- selfe to bee more bounden to the happinesse of a retentive memory, than eyther ability of tongue, or pregnancy of conceite. He carryes his table- booke still about with him, but dares not pull it out publikely. Yet no sooner is the table drawne, than he turnes notarie ; by which means hee recovers the charge of his ordinarie. Paules is his walke in winter ; Moorfields ^"^ in sommer. Where the whole discipline, designes, projects, and exploits of the States, Netherlands, Poland, Switzer, Crimchan and all, are within the compasse of one quadrangle walke most judiciously and punctually discovered. But long he must not walke, lest hee make his newes- 65 Moorfields were a general promenade for the citizens of London, during the summer months. The ground was left to the city by- Mary and Catherine, daughters of Sir William Fines, a Knight of Rhodes, in the reign of Edward the Confessor. Eichard Johnson, a poetaster of the sixteenth century, published in 1607, The Plea- sant Walkes of Moore-fields. Being the Guift of two Sisters, noio beautified, to the continuing fame of this worthy Citty. 4to, black- letter, of which Mr. Gough, {Brit. Topog.'] Avho was ignorant of the above, notices an impression in 161T. 228 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. presse stand. Thanks to his good invention, he can collect much out of a very little : no matter thougjh more experienced judgements disprove him ; hee is anonvmos, and that wil secure him. To make his reports more credible or, (which he and his stationer onely aymes at.) more vendible, in the re- lation of every occurrent he renders you the day of the moneth ; and to approve himselfe a scholler, he annexeth these Latine parcells, or parcell-gilt sen- tences, veteri sti/Io, novo stylo. Palisados, parapets, counter-scarfes, forts, fortresses, rampiers, bulwarks, are his usual dialect. Hee writes as if he would doe some mischiefe, yet the charge of his shot is but pa- per. Hee will sometimes start in his sleepe, as one affrighted with visions, which I can impute to no other cause but to the terrible skirmishes which he discoursed of in the day-time. He has now tyed himselfe apprentice to the trade of mintinoj, and must weekly performe his taske, or (beside the losse which accrues to himselfe,) he disappoints a number of no small fooles, whose discourse, discipline, and discretion, is drilled from his state-service. These you shall know by their Mondai's morning question, a little before Exchange time ; Stationer^ have you any newes ? Which they no sooner purchase than peruse; and, early by next morning, (lest their countrey friend should be deprived of the benefit of so rich a prize,) they freely vent the substance of it, APPENDIX. 229 with some illustrations, if their understanding can furnish them that way. He would make you beleeve that nee were knowne to some forraine intelligence, but I hold him the wisest man that hath the least faith to beleeve him. For his relations he stands resolute, whether they become approved, or evinced for untruths ; which if they bee, hee has contracted with his face never to blush for the matter. Hee holds especiall concurrence with two philosophical! sects, though hee bee ignorant of the tenets of either : in the collection of his observations, he \& peripateti- call, for hee walkes circularly; in the digestion of his relations he is Stoically and sits regularly. Hee has an alphabeticall table of all the chiefs commanders, generals, leaders, provinciall townes, rivers, ports, creekes, with other fitting materials to furnish his ima- ginary building. Whisperings, muttrings, and bare suppositions, are sufficient grounds for the authoritie of his relations. It is strange to see with what greedinesse this ayrie Chameleon, being all lungs and winde, will swallow a receite of newes, as if it were physical! : yea, with what frontlesse insinua- tion he will scrue himselfe into the acquaintance of some knowing Intelligencers, who, trying the cask by his hollow sound, do familiarly gull him. I am of opinion, were all his voluminous centuries of fabu- lous relations compiled, they would vye in number with the Iliads of many forerunning ages. You 230 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. shall many times finde in his Gazettas, pasquils, and corrantos miserable distractions ; here a city taken by force long before it bee besieged -, there a coun- trey laid waste before ever the euemie entered. He many times tortures his readers with impertinencies, yet are these the tolerablest passages throughout all his discourse. He is the very landskip of our age. He is all ayre ; his eare alwayes open to all re- ports, which, how incredible soever, must passe for currant, and find vent, purposely to get him currant money, and delude the vulgar. Yet our best com- fort is, his chymeras live not long ; a weeke is the longest in the citie, and after their arrival, little longer in the countrey ; which past, they melt like But- ter^ or match a pipe, and so Burnefi'' But indeede, most commonly it is the height of their ambition to aspire to the imployment of stopping mustard-pots, or wrapping up pepper, pouder, staves-aker, &c., which done, they expire. Now for his habit, Wapping and Long-lane will give him his character. Hee honours nothing with a more iudeered observance, nor hug-jres ought with more intimacie than antiquitie, which he 66 This is certainly intended as a pun upon the names of two news- venders or corranto-coiners of the day. Nathaniel Butter, the pub- lisher of " I'Jie certain Neioes of this present Week,''"' lived at the Pyde-Bidl, St. Austin's-gate, and was the proprietor of several of the intelligencers, from 1622 to about 1640. Nicholas Bourne was a joint partner with Butter in The Siveedish Intelligencer. 4to. Loncl. 1632. APPENDIX. ^ 231 expresseth even in his cloatlies. I have knowne some love fish best that smelled of the panyer ; and the like humour reignes in him, for hee loves that apparele best that has a taste of the broker. Some have held him for a scholler, but trust mee such are in a palpable errour, for hee never yet under- stood so much Latine as to construe Gallo-Belgicus^ "For his librarie (his owne continuations excepted,) it consists of very few or no bookes. He holds himselfe highly engaged to his invention if it can purchase him victuals ; for authors hee never con- verseth with them, unlesse they walke in Paules. For his discourse it is ordinarie, yet hee will znake you a terrible repetition of desperate commanders, unheard of exployts ; intermixing withall his owne personall service. But this is not in all companies, for his experience hath sufiiciently informed him in this principle — that as nothing workes more on the simple than things strange and incredibly rare ; so nothing discovers his weaknesse more among the knowing and judicious than to insist, by way of discourse, on reports above conceite. Amongst these, therefore, hee is as mute as a fish. But now ima- gine his lampe (if he be worth one,) to be neerely burnt out ; his inventing genius wearied and sur- foote with raunging over so many unknowne regions ; and himselfe, wasted with the fruitlesse expence of much paper, resigning his place of weekly collections 232 MICROCOSMOGKAPHY. to anotlier, whom, in hope of some little share, hee has to his stationer recommended, while he lives either poorely respected, or dyes miserably suspended. The rest I end with his owne cloze : — Next weeJce you shallheare mover xii. Picturse loquentes : or Pictures draivne forth in Characters. With a Poeme of a Maid. By Wye Saltonstcdl. Ne sutor idtra crepidam. London: Printed hy T. Coles, Sfc. 1631. 12??io. I have copied the above title from an article in the Censura Literaria., ^'' communicated by Mr. Park, of whose copious information, and constant accuracy on every subject connected with English literature, the public have many specimens before them. SaltonstalFs 'J^ Characters, &c. reached a second edition in 1635. A copy of this rare volume is in the possession of Mr. Douce, who, with his accus- tomed liberality, permitted my able and excellent 67 Vol. 5, p. 372. Mr. Park says that the plan of the characters was undoubtedly derived from that of Overbury, but, he adds, the execu- tion is greatly superior. Four stanzas from the poem entitled, A Maid, are printed in tbe same volume. 68 An account of the author may be found in the Athence Oxon. Vol. 1. col. 640. APPENDIX. 238 friend, Mr. John James Park, to draw up tlie fol- lowing account of it for the present volume. To "The Epistle dedicatory" of this impression, the initials (or such like) of dedicatee's name only are given, for, says the dedicator, " I know no fame can redound unto you by these meane essayes, which were written, Ocium mogis foventes^ quam studentes glorise, as sheapheards play upon their oaten pipes, to recreate themselves, not to get credit." " To the Reader. — Since the title is the first leafe that cometh under censure, some, perhaps, will dislike the name of pictures, and say, I have no colour for it, which I confesse, for these pictures are not drawne in colours, but in characters, represent- ing to the eye of the minde divers severall profes- sions, which, if they appeare more obscure than I coulde wish, yet I would have you know that it is not the nature of a character, to be as smooth as a bull-rush, but to have some fast and loose knots, which the ingenious reader may easily untie. The first picture is the description of a maide, which young men may read, and from thence learn to know, that vertue is the truest beauty. The next follow in their order, being set together in this little book, that in winter you may reade them ad igner)!^ by the fire-side, and in summer ad umhrani, under some shadie tree, and therewith passe away the tedious howres. So hoping of thy favourable 30 234 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. censure, knowing that the least judicious are most ready to judge, I expose them to thy view, with Apelles motto, Ne sutor, ultra crepidam. Lastly, whether you like them, or leave them, yet the au- thor bids you welcome. Thine as mine, W. S." The Original Characters are, 1. The world. 14. A wandering rogue. 2. An old man. 15. A waterman. 3. A woman. 16. A shepheard. 4. A widdow. 17. A jealous man. 5. A true lover. 18. A chamberlaine. 6. A countrey bride. 19. A mayde. 7. A plowman. 20. A bayley. 8. A melancholy man. 21. A countrey fayre. 9. A young heire. 22. A countrey alehouse. 10. A scholler in the uni- 23. A horse-race. versity. 24. A farmer's daughter. 11. A lawyer's clarke. 25. A keeper. 12. A townsman in Ox- 26. A gentleman's house ford. in the countrey. 13. An usurer. The Additions to the second Edition are, 2.1. A fine dame. 29. A gardiner. 28. A country dame. 30. A captaine. APPENDIX. 235 31. A poore village. 36. A happy man. 32. A merry man. 37. An arrant knave. 33. A scrivener. 38. An old waiting gen> 34. The tearme. tie-woman. 35. A mower. " THE TEARME Is a time when Justice keeps open court for all commers, while her sister Equity strives to mitigate the rigour of her positive sentence. It is called the Tearme, because it does end and terminate busines, or else because it is the Terminus ad quem, that is, the end of the countrey man's journey, who comes up to the Tearme, and with his hobnayle shooes grindes the faces of the poore stones, and so returnes againe. It is soule of the yeare, and makes it quicke, which before was dead. Inkeepers gape for it as earnestly as shelfish doe for salt water after a low ebbe. It sends forth new bookes into the world, and replenishes Paul's walke with fresh company, where Quid novi? is their first salutation, and the weekely newes their chiefs discourse. The tavernes are painted against the tearme, and many a cause is argu'd there and try'd at that barre, where you are adjudg'd to pay the costs and charges, and so dis- mist with ' welcome gentlemen.' Now the citty puts her best side outward, and a new play at the 236 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Blackfryers is attended on with coaches. It keepes watermen from sinking and helpes them with many a fare voyage to Westminster. Your choyse beauties come up to it onely to see and be scene, and to learne the newest fashion, and for some other recreations. Now monie that has beene long sicke and crasie, begins to stirre and walke abroad, especially if some young prodigalls come to towne, who bring more money than wit. Lastly, the tearme is the joy of the citty, a deare friend to countrymen, and is never more welcome than after a Ion"; vacation .^^ xiii. London and Country corhonadoed and quar- tered into seuerall Characters. By Donald Luj)ton, 8vo. 1632. [See British Bibliographer, i. 464 ; and Brand's Sale Catalogue, page 66, No. 1754.] xiv. Character of a Gentleman, appended to Brath- wait's English Gentleman, Ato. London, hy Felix Kyngston, &c. 1633. APPENDIX. 237 XV. " A straiige Metamorpliosis of Man ^ transformed into a Wildernesse. Deciphered in Characters. London^ Printed hy Thomas Harper^ and are to he sold hy Lawrence Chapman at his shoj) in Holhorne, 1634/' [12mo. containing pp. 296, not numbered.] This curious little volume has been noticed by Mr. Haslewood, in the Censura Literaria (vii. 284.) who says, with justice, that a rich vein of humour and amusement runs through it, and that it is the apparent lucubration of a pen able to per- form better things. Of the author's name I have been unable to procure the least intelligence. "the horse (No. 16.) Is a creature made, as it were, in waxe. When Nature first framed him, she took a secret compla- cence in her worke. He is even hermaster-peece in irracionall things, borrowing somewhat of all things to set him forth. For example, his slicke bay coat hee took from the chesnut; his neeke from the rainbow, which perhaps make him rain so wel. His maine belike he took from Pec/asus, making him a hobbie to make this a compleat gennet 'J'^ which 69 Mr. Steeven?, in a note to Othello, explains a jennet to be a Spanish horse ; but from the passage just given, I confess it appears 238 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. main he weares so curld, mucli after tlie women's fashion now adayes ; — this I am sure of howsoever, it becomes them, [and] it sets forth our gennet well. His legges he borrowed of the hart, with his swift- nesse, which makes him a true courser indeed. The starres in his forehead hee fetchtfrom heaven, which will not be much mist, there being so many. The little head he hath, broad breast, fat buttocke, and thicke tayle are properly his owne, for he knew not where to get him better. If you tell him of the homes he wants to make him most compleat, he scornes the motion, and sets them at his heele. He is well shod especially in the upper leather, for as for his soles, they are much at reparation, and often faine to be removed. Nature seems to have spent an apprentiship of yeares to make you such a one, for it is full seven yeares ere hee comes to this perfec- tion, and be fit for the saddle : for then (as we,) it seemes to come to the yeares of discretion, when he will shew a kinde of rationall judgement with him, and if yoa set an expert rider on his backe, you shall see how sensiblie they will talke together, as master and scholler. When he shall be no sooner mounted and planted in the seat with the reins in to me to meau somewhat more. Perhaps a jenuet was a horse kept solely for pleasure, whose mane was suffered to grow to a conside- rable length, and was then ornamented with platting, &c.— A hobby might answer to what we now term a hogged poney. APPENDIX. 239 one hand, a switcli in the other, and speaking with his spurres in the horse's flankes, a language he wel understands, but he shall prance, curvet, and dance the canaries ''O halfe an houre together in compasse of a bushell, and yet still, as he thinkes, get some ground, shaking the goodly plume on his head with a comely pride. This will our Bucephalus do in the lists : but when hee comes abroad into the fields, hee will play the countrey gentleman as truly, 70 The Canaries is the name of an old dance, frequently alluded to in our early Englisli plays. Shakspeare uses it in AWs ivell that ends well— "I have seen a medicine, That's able to breathe life into a stone ; Quicken a rock, and make you dance canain/ With spritely fire and motion ; " Sir John Hawkins, in his Hxstwy of Mustek^ iv. 391. says that it occurs in the opera of Dioclesian^ set to music by Purcell, and ex- plains it to be "a very sprightly movement of two reprises, or strains, with eight bars in each : the time three quarters in a bar, the first pointed." I take this opportunity of mentioning, that among Dr. Eawlinson's MSS. in the Bodleian, {Poet. 108.] is a volume which contains a variety of figures of old dances, written, as I conjecture, between the years 1566 and 1580. Besides several others are the immjan ; my Lord of Essex measures ; tyntermell ; the old allmayne ; the longe imman ; quanto dysjjayne ; the nyne mtfses, &c. As the pavian is mentioned by Shakspeare, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and as the directions for dancing the figure have not been before discovered, I shall make no apology for offering them in the present note. THE LONGE PAVIAN, ij singles, a duble forward ; ij singles syde, a duble forward ; repince backe once, ij singles syde, a duble forward, one single backe twyse, ij singles, a duble forward, ij singles syde, prerince backe once ; ij singles syde, a duble forward, reprince backe twyse." 240 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. as before the knight in turnament. If the game be up once, and the hounds in chase, you shall see how he will pricke up his eares streight, and tickle at the sport as much as his rider shall, and laugh so loud, that if there be many of them, they will even drowne the rurall harmony of the dogges. When he travels, of all innes he loves best the signe of the silver bell, because likely there he fares best, especially if hee come the first, and get the prize. He carries his eares upright, nor seldome ever lets them fall till they be cropt oflF, and after that, as in despight, will never weare them more. His taile is so essentiall to him, that if he loose it once hee is no longer an horse, but ever stiled a curtail. To conclude, he is a blade of Vulcan's forging^ made for Mars of the best metall, and the post of Fame to carrie her tidings through the world, who, if he knew his own strength, would shrewdly put for the monarchic of our wildernesse." xvi. The true CTiaraeter of an untrue Bishop : ivitli a Reci/pe at the end hoiv to recover a Bishop if hee were lost. London , pi'inted in the yeare 1641.'i [4to. pp. 10, besides title.] 71 1 have a faint recollection of a single character in a rare volume, entitled"^ Boiilster Lecture '"' &c. Lond. 1640. APPENDIX. 241 xvii. Character of a Projector^ hy Jiogg. 4to. 1642. xviii. Gharacter of an Oxford Incendiary. Printed for Robert White in 1643. 4to. [Reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany, V. 469. edit. 1744. xix. The Reformado 'precUely charactered {with a frontispiece.^ [See the Sale Catalogue of G-eorge Steevens, Esq. 8vo. Lond. 1800. page 66. No. 1110.] :. " A new Anatomic^ or Character of a Christ- ian or Round-head. Expressing his Description^ Excellencies Happiness and Innocencie. Where- in may appear how far this blind loorld is mis- taken in their unjust Censures of him. Virtus in Arduis. {Proverbs xii. 26 ; a7id Jude 10, quoted) Imprimatur John Downame. London, Printed for Robert Leybourne, and are to be sold at the Star, under Peter's Church in Corn-hill, 1645. 8vo. pp. 13. [In Ashmole's Museum.] 31 242 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. xxi. In Lord North's Forest of Varieties^ London. Printed hij Richard Cotes, 1645, are several Characters, as lord Orford informs us, " in the manner of sir Thomas Overbury." Royal and Noble Authors, iii. 82. Of this volume a second edition appeared in 1659, neither of these, however, I have been able to meet with. For some account of the work, with extracts, see Brydges' 3Icmoirs of the Peers of England, 8vo. London. 1802. page 343. xxii. Characters and Elegies.''- By Francis Wort- ley Knight and Baronet. Printed in the yeere 1646.'' 4to. The characters are as follow : 1. The character of his royall majestic; 2. The character of the queene's majestic; 3. The hopeful prince; 4. A true character of the illustrious James Duke of York; 5. The character of a noble general; 6. A true English protestant; 7. An antinomian, or anabaptisticall independent; 8. A jesuite; 9. The true character of a northerne lady, as she is wife, mother, and sister; 10. The politique neuter; 11. 72 The Elegies, according to Wood, are upon the loyalists who lost their lives in the king's service, at the end of which are epitaphs. APPENDIX, 243 The citie paragon ; 12. A sharking committee-man ; 13. Britanicus his pedigree — a fatall prediction of his end ; 14. The Phoenix of the Court. Britanicus his Pedigree — a fatall Prediction of his end. I dare affirme him a Jew by descent, and of the tribe of Benjamin, lineally descended from the first King of the Jewes, even Saul, or at best he ownes him and his tribe, in most we readeof them. First, of our English tribes, I conceive his fsither's the lowest, and the meanest of that tribe, stocke, or gene- ration and the worst, how bad soever they be ; melan- choly he is, as appeares by his sullen and dogged wit ; malicious as Saul to David, as is evident in his writ- ings; he wants but Saul's javelin to cast at him ; he as little spares the king's friend with his pen, as Saul did Jonat-han his sonne in his reproch ; and would be as free of his javelin as his pen, were his power sutable to his will, as Ziba did to Mephibosheth, so does he by the king, he belies him as much to the world, as he his master to David, and in the day of adversitie is as free of his tongue as Shimei was to his soveraigne, and would be as hum- ble as he, and as forward to meet the king as he was David, should the king returne in peace. Abithaes there cannot want to cut off the dog's head, but David is more mercifull then Shimei can be wicked : 244 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. may he first consult with the witch of Endor, but not worthy of so noble a death as his own sword, die the death of Achitophel for feare of David, then may he be hang'd up as the sonnes of Saul were against the sunne, or rather as the Amelekites who slew Isbosheth, and brought tidings and the tokens of the treason to David ; may his hands and his feet be as sacrifices cut off, and so pay for the treasons of his pen and tongue; may all heads that plot treasons, all tongues that speake them, all pens that write them, be so punisht. If Sheba paid his head for his tongue's fault, what deserves Britannicus to pay for his pen and trumpet? Is there never a wise woman in London ? we have Abishaes. Francis Wortley, was the son Sir Richard Wort- ley, of Wortley, in Yorkshire, knight. At the age of seventeen he became a commoner of Magdalen College, Oxford; in 1610 he was knighted, and on the 29th of June in the following year, was created a baronet; being then, as Wood says, esteemed an ingenious gentlemen. During the civil wars he assisted the royal cause, by raising a troop of horse in the king's service ; but at their conclusion he was taken prisoner, and confined in the tower of London, where it seems he composed the volume just noticed. In the Catalogue of Compounders his name appears as "of Carleton, Yorkshire," and from thence we APPENDIX. 245 learn that he paid 500^. for his remaining property. In the Athense Oxonienses may be found a list of his works, but I have been unable to trace the date of his decease. Mr. Granger says that " Anne, his daughter, married the second son of the first Earl of Sandwich, who took the name of Wortley,'' and adds that the late Countess of Bute was descended from him. Biographical History^ ii. 310. xxiii. The Times anatomiz\l^ in severaU Characters. By T. i^[ord, seruant to Mr. Sam. Man.] 'S Difficile est Satyramnonscrihere. Juv. Sat. 1. London, Printed for W. L. Anno 1647.'' [12mo. in the British Museum.] The Contents of the severall Characters. 1. A good King. 9. Errour. 2. Rebelion. 10. Truth. 3. An honest subject. 11. A selfe-seeker. 4. An hypocritical convert 12. Pamphlets. of the times. 13 An envious man. 5. A souldier of fortune. 14. True valour. 6. A discontented person. 15. Time. 7. An ambitious man. 16. A newter. 8. The vulgar. 17. A turn-coat. 73 (MS. interlineation in a copy among the King's pamphlets.) 246 MICKOCOSMOGEAPHY. 18. A moderate man. 24. A novice-preacher. 19. A corrupt committee- 25. A scandalous preacher. man. 26. A grave divine. 20. A sectary. 27. A selfe-conceited man. 21. Warre. 29. Religion. 22. Peace. 30. Death. 23. A drunkard. " PAMPHLETS Are the weekly almanacks, shewing what weather is in the state, which, like the doves of Aleppo, carry news to every part of the kingdom. They are the silent tray tors that aifront majesty, and abuse all authority, under the colour of an Imprimatur. Ubiquitary flies that have of late blistered the eares of all men, that they cannot endure any solid truth. The ecchoes, whereby what is done in part of the kingdome, is heard all over. They are like the mushromes, sprung up in a night, and dead in a day ; and such is the greedinesse of men's natures (in these Athenian dayes) of new, that they will rather feigne then want it.'' xxiv. Character of a London Diurnal^ 4to. 1647. [This was written by Cleveland, and has been printed in the various editions of his poems.] APPENDIX. 247 XXV. Character of an Agitator. Printed in the Yeare 1647. 4:to. pp. 7. This concludes with the following epitome — " Hee was begotten of Lilburne, (with Overton's helpe) in Newgate, nursed up by Cromwell, at first by the army, tutored by Mr. Peters, counselled by Mr. Walwin and Musgarve, patronized by Mr. Mar- tin, (who sometimes sits in counsell with them, though a member) and is like to dye no where but at Tyburne, and that speedily, if hee repent not and reforme his erronious judgement, and his seditious treasonable practises against king, parliament, and martiall discipline itselfe. Finis. xxvi. In Mr. Brand's Sale Catalogue, No. 1754, we have The Surfeit to A. B. C. 8vo. Lond. 1656, which is there represented to consist of Characters. xxvii. Characters of a Temporizer and an Anti- quary. [In " Naps upon Parnassus," 8vo. 1658. See the Censura Literaria, vol. vi. p. 225; vol. vii. p. 341.] 248 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. xxviii. Satyrical Charactei's^ and liandsom Descrip- tions^ in Letters^ 8vo. 1658. [Catalogue of Thomas Britton the Small Coal Man. 4to. p. 19. No. 102.] xxix. A Character of England, as it was lately presented in a Letter to a Nohle-man of France. With Reflections upon Gallus Cas- tratus. The third Edition. London. Printed for John Crooke, and are to he sold at the Ship in St. Bald's Church- Yard, 1659. (12mo. pp. 66, title and preface 20 more.) This very severe satire upon the English nation was replied to in the following publication, XXX. A Character of France, to ivhich is added Cal- lus Gastratus, or an Answer to a late slan- derous Pamphlet, called the Character of England. Si talia nefanda et facinora quis non Democritus ? London, Printed for Nath. Brooke, at the Angel in Cornliill, 1659. APPENDIX. 249 xxxi. A perfect Description of the People and Country of Scotland. London. Printed for J. S. 1659. (12mo. pp. 21. besides the title.) xxxii. A hrief Character of the Low Countries under the States, being Three Weeks Obser- vation of the Vices and Vertues of the Inhabit- ants. Non seria semper. London, Printed for H. S. and are to be sold by H. Lowndes, at the White Lion in St. Paul's Church Yard, neer the little North Door, 1669. (12mo. pp. 500. title, &c., 6 more.) Written by Owen Feltham, and appended to the several folio editions of his Resolves. xxxiii. The Character of Italy : Or, The Italian Anatomized by an English Chirurgion. Diffi- cile est Satyram non scribere. London : Printed for Nath. Brooke, at the Angel in Cornhil. 1660. [12mo. pp. 93, title and preface 12 more.] 32 250 MICEOCOSMOGRAPHY. xxxiv. The Character of Spain : Or, An Ejntome of Their Virtues and Vices. Adeo sunt multa, loquacem Ut lassare queant Fabium. London : Printed for Nath. Brooke, at the Angel in Cornhil 1660. [12mo. pp. 93, title, &c. 12 more.] XXXV. Essayes and Characters^ hy L. G. 8vo. 1661, [See Brand's Sale Catalogue, No. 1754.] xxxvi. Tlie Assemhly-man. Written in the Year 1647. London: Printed for Richard Marriot, and are to he sold at his shop under St. Dun- stan's Church, in Fleet-street, 1662— 3. "^^ [4to. pp. 22.] Sir John Birkenhead was the author of this cha- racter, which was printed again in 1681, and in 1704 with the following title, '' The Assembly -onan. Writ- ii Witli a very curious and rare frontispiece. APPENDIX. 251 ten in the TearlQ^l ] hut proves the true character of (^Cerherus) the ohservator^ MDCCiv/' It was also reprinted in the Harleicui Miscellcmy^ v. 93. For an account of the author, see the Biographia Bri- tannica, edit. Kippis, ii. 324. xxxvii. Fifty-jive ~5 Enigmatical Characters^ all very exactly drawn to the Life^ from several Persons, Humours, Dispositions. Pleasant and full of Delight. By R. F. Esq.; Lon- don : Printed for William Crook, at the sign of the Three Bibles on Fleet-bridge. 1665/' 70 [8vo. pp. 135, title, index, &c. not numbered, 11 more.] Richard Flecknoe, the author of these characters, is more known from having his name affixed to one of the severest satires ever written by Dryden, than from any excellence of his own as a poet or drama- tic writer. Mr. Reed conceives him to have been a Jesuit, and Pope terms him an Irish priest. Lang- 75 I omit to particularize these characters, as many of the titles are extremely long — "of a lady of excellent conversation. Of one that is the foyle of good conversation." «&c. »fec. 76 Mr. Eeed possessed a copy, dated in 1658. See his Catalogue., No. 209S. 252 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. baine says, that " his acquaintance with the nobility was more than with the muses, and he had a greater propensity to rhyming, than a genius to poetry." As a proof of the former assertion the Duke of New- castle prefixed two copies of verses to his characters, in which he calls Flecknoe " his worthy friend, '^ and says: " Flecknoe, thy characters are so full of wit And fancy, as each word is throng'd with it. Each line's a volume, and who reads would swear Whole libraries were in each character. Nor arrows in a quiver stuck, nor yet Lights in the starry skies are thicker set. Nor quills upon the armed porcupine. Than wit and fancy in this work of thine. W. Newcastle." To confirm the latter, requires only the perusal of his verses, which were published in 1653, under the title of Miscellania. Besides these, he wrote five'^ dramatic pieces, the titles of which may be found in the Biogi'aphia Dramatica ; a collection of Fpigrams, 8vo. 1670 ; Ten Years Travels in Eu- rope. — A short Discourse of the English Stage, affixed to Love's Dominion, 8vo. 1654 ; The Idea 77 Langbaine notices a prologue intended for a play, called The Physician against Ms Will^ which he thinks was never published. A MS. note in my copy of the Dramatic Poets, says it was printed in 1712. APPENDIX. 253 of his Highness Olive?', late Lord Protector, &c. 8vo. 1659. &c. &C.7S " CHARACTER OF A VALIANT MAN." (page 61.) •' He is onely a man ; your coward and rash being but tame and savage beasts. His courage is still the same, and drink cannot make him more valiant, nor danger lesse. His valour is enough to leaven whole armies, he is an army himself worth an army of other men. His sword is not alwayes out like children's daggers, but he is alwayes last in begin- ning quarrels, though first in ending them. He holds honour (though delicate as chrystall) yet not so slight and brittle to be broak and crackt with every touch j therefore (though most wary of it,) is not querilous nor punctilious. He is never troubled with passion, as knowing no degree beyond clear courage, and is alwayes valiant, but never furious. He is the more gentle i' th' chamber, more fierce he's in the field, holding boast (the coward's valour,) and cruelty (the beast's,) unworthy a valiant man. He is only 78 The Bodleian library contains " The Affections ofainous Souk, unto our Saviour- Christ. Expressed in a mixed treatise of verse and prose. By Richard Flecknoe.'' 8vo. 1640. This I can scarcely con- sent to give to Mac Flecknoe, as in the address " To the Town Reader," the author informs us that^ "ashamed of the many idle hours he has spent, and to avoid the expence of more, he has retired from the town"— and we are certain that Mac resided there long after. 254 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. coward in this, that he dares not do an unhandsome action. In fine, he can onely be overcome by dis- courtesie, and has but one deffect — he cannot talk much — to recompence which he dos the more.'^ xxxviii. Tlie Character of a Coffee.-liouse^ with the symptoms of a Town-witt. With Allowance. April W^ 1673. London^ Printed for Jona- than Edioiu, at the Three Roses in Ludgate- street, 1673. [Folio, reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany^ with an answer to it, vol. vi. 429 — 433.] xxxix. Essays of Love and Marriage : Being Let- ters written hy two Gentlemen, one dissuading from Love, the other an Answer thereunto. With some Characters, and other Passages of Wit. Si quando gravahere cutis, Hsec lege, pro moestse medicamine mentis haheto. London, Printed for H Brome, at the Gun in St. Paid's Church-yard,, 1673. [12mo. pp. 103, title, &c. 4 more.] APPENDIX. 255 xl. The Character of a Fanatich. By a Person of Quality. London. 1675. [4to. pp. 8. Reprinted in tlie Harleian Miscellany , vii. 596.] xli. (Jliaracter of a Towne Gallant of a Towne Miss of an honest drunken Curr of a pilfering Taylor of an Exchange Wench of a Sollicitor of a Scold of an ill Husband of a Dutchman of a Paicnhroher of a Tally Man [4to. See Sale Catalogue of George Steevens, Esq 8vo. London, 1800, page 66, No. 1110.] xlii. A Whip for a Jockey : or^ a Character of an Horse-courser. 1677. London, Printed for R. H 1677. [8vo. pp. 29.] 256 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. xliii. Four for a Penny ^or Poor Rohin's Characte?' of an unconscionable Pawnhroher ^ and Ear- inarh of an 02^pressing Tally-man : with a friendly Description of a Bum-bailey^ and his merciless setting cur, or follower. With Allowance. London. Printed for L. C. 1678. 4to. reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany., vol. iv. [p. 141.] xliv. Character of an ugly Woman : or. a Hue and Cry after Beauty, in prose, written (by the Duke of Buckingham) in 1678. See Lord Orford's Royal and Noble Authors, by Park, iii. 309. xlv. Character of a disbanded Courtier. Ingenium Galbse male habitat. 1681. [Folio, pp. 2. Reprinted in the Harleian Miscel- lany, i. 356.] APPENDIX. 257 xlvi. Character of a certain ugly old P- London^ Printed in the Year 1684. [In Oldham's Works, 8vo. London, 1684.] xlvii. Twelve ingenious Characters: or pleasant Descriptions of the Properties of sundry Per- sons and Things, viz. An importunate dunn ; a serJeant or bailiff ; a paun-hroker ; a prison ^ a tavern ; a scold ; a had hushand ; a town-fop ; a hawd ; a fair and happy milk-maid ; the quack's directory ; a young ena- mourist. Licensed, June the 2>d, 1681. R. P. London, printed for S. Norris, and are to be sold by most booksellers, 1686. [12mo. pp. 48.] xlviii. Character of a Trimmer. By Sir William Coventry. 1689. [4 to. See Bibliotheca Harleiana^ v. 4278.] This was written long before publication, as is proved by the following 33 258 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. xlix. Character of a, Tory in 1659, wi answer to that of a Trimmer (iiever published) both loritten in King Charles's reign. [Reprinted in the Woi^ks of George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham. 4to. Lond. 1721,] 1. Characters addressed to Ladies of Age. 8vo. Lond. 1689. [Brand's Sale Catalogue, p. 66, No. 1747.] The Ceremony -monger, his Character, in six Chapters, &c., &c. By E. Jlickeringill, Rec- tor of the Rectoi^ of All- Saints, in Colchester. London, Printed and are to be sold by George Larkin, at the Two Sioans, without Bishops- gate. 1689. [4to. pp. 66.] 1 lii. Character of a Jacobite. 1690. [4to. See Bibl. Earl. v. No. 4279.] APPENDIX. 259 The following are without date, but were pro- bably printed before 1700. "^9 liii. Character' of an lll-court-favourite^ translated from the French. [4to. Reprinted in the Harleian Mhcellany^ ii. 50.] liv. Character of an honest and loorthy Parliament- Man. [Folio, reprinted in the Harleian 3Iiscellany, ii. 336.] Iv. Characterism.^ or the Modern Age displayed. [Brand's Sale Catalogue^ No. 1757.] Ivi. Character of the Presbyterian Pastors and People of Scotland. [Bibl. Harleiana, v. No. 4280.] 79 In Butler's Remains, published by Thyer, 2 vols. 8vo. 1759, are several Characters by the author of Hudibras, and consequently written previously to this date, but as they do not appear to have been printed so early, they cannot, with propriety, be included in this list. 260 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Ivii. Character of a complea.t Physician or Natu- ralist fi^ \_Bihl. Harleiana, No. 4304.] 80 In the extracts made from the foregoing series of Characters^ the original orthography has been most scrupulously attended to, in order to assist in shewing the progress and variation of the English language. INDEX Abishaes, 244. Abithaes, 243. Abraham-man, 189. Achilles, 31. Achitophel, 244. Acquaintance, character of, 122. Aeneas, 125. Affected man, character of, 143. Affections of a pious Soule, by Richard Flecknoe, 253. Alderman, character of, 14. Aleppo, 246. Alexis of Piedmont, 11. Alfred, king, 4. AUmayne, 239. Airs well that ends ivell, by Shakspeare, 239. Allot, Robert, xi. Almanack in the bones, 32. Alresford, Hampshire, 180. American Museum, 1. Ames, Mr., xvi, 187, 19G. Amsterdam, 78. Anatomy of Melancholly , by Burton, 39, 62, 197. ' Andria of Terence, 175. Angglear, 188. Antem-morte, 40. Antiquary, character of, 18. Antiquary, The, by Marmion, 19. Apophthegmata, 87. Aristophanes, 174. Aristotle, 8, 27. Arminian, 27. Arminius, 97. Ashmole's Museum, Oxford, 168, 241. Atkinson, Mr., 181. Atkyns, Sir Robert, 35. Athenx Oxo7iienses, hy \Yood, X, 181, 232, 245. Attorney, character of, 79. Austin, 96 Awdeley, John, 197. Baal, priests of, 74. Babel, tower of, 19, 88. Bagster, Richard, 183. Baker, character of a, 94. Bales, Peter, 5. Bardolph, 89. Barnes, John, 63. Barnes, Juliana, 43. Barrington, Daines, 29. Barton, Elizabeth, 93. Barwick, Dr., 161. Life of, 161. Bawdy-basket, 189. 262 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Bayle, 77. Beaumont and Fletcher, 175. Beaumont, Francis, 167, 172, 173, 174. Beati's Duel, by Mrs. Cent- livre, 69. Bedford, Earl of, 11. Bellarmine, Cardinal, 6. Belman of London, by Uecker, 1P8. Copy, with Burton's MS. notes, 197. Benar, 195. Bene, 193. Benjamin, 243, Benjamin's mess, 93. Bessus, 175. Bethlem, 223. Bible, printed at Geneva, 8. Bihliographia Poetica, by Ritson, 208. Bihliotheca Harleiana, 257, 258, 259. Biographia Britannica, 251. Biographia Dramatica, 252. Birkenhead, Sir John, 250. Bishopstone, 159, 160. Blackfriar's, play at, 236- Bliss, Philip, v. Blount, Edward, ix, x, xi, xvi, Blount, Ralph, xvi. Blunt man, character of, 102. Bobadil, 89. Bodleian Library, Oxford, 62, 168, 169, 196, 201, 239, 253 Boke of haivkynge, huntynge, and fysshinge, 43. Bold forward man, character of, 92. Bong, 195. Books, mode of placing them in old libraries, 57. Bord, 194. Borgia, 67. Bouge, 193. Boulster, Lecture, 240. Bourne, Nicholas, 230. Bouse, 193, 194. Bousing-ken, 195. Bowl-alie}', character of, 65. Brachigraphy, 4. Brand, Mr., 199, 236, 247, 250, 258, 259. Bread used in England in the sixteenth century, 40. Breeches, 3. Breton, captain, 206. Breton, Nicholas, 12, 168, 207, 208. Life of 207. Breton'' s Longing, 208. Bridewell, 223. Britannicus, his pedigree, 243. British Bibliographer, by Brydges, 197, 236. British Museum, xi, 245. British Topography, by Cough, an addition to, 227. Britton, Thomas, 248. Brownist, 74. Brydges, Sir Samuel Eger- ton, 197, 207, 242. Bucephalus, 239. Buckingham, duke of, 169, 256, 258. Bullen, earl of, 138. Burroughs, Sir .John, 167. Lines on, 169, 170. Burton, Robert, 39, 62, 197. Butler, Samuel, 259. INDEX. 263 Butter, Nathaniel, 230. Buttery, 108. Byng, 195. C. F., 201. Cacling cheat, 194. Caesar, 18. Caesars, the, 105. Calais sands, 69. Cambridge, 136. Camden, 61. Canaries, a dance, 239. Canary, 32. Cant phrases, 188, 189, 193, 194, 195, 196. Capel, Mr., 199. Carrier, character of a, 35. Carte, 169. Casaubon, 96. Cassan, 194. Cassel, siege of, 25. Catalogue of Co7npounders for their Estates, 244. Cato, 54, 130. Caveat for Commen Cursetors, 186. Censura Literaria, 198, 206, 208, 232, 237, 247. Centlivre, Mrs., 70. Centoes, 61. Century of Inventions, by the Marquis of Worcester, 29. Cerberus, 251. Chalmers, Mr., 39. Cham, 115. Chandler, R., xii. Character of an agitator, 247. of an antiquary, 2"^!. Character of an assembly-man, 250. of an untrue bishop, 240. of a ceremony -mon- ger, 258. of a coffee house, 254. of a disbanded cour- tier, 256. of an ill-court-fa- vourite, 259. of an honest drunken cur, 255. of a Dutchman, 255. of England, 248. of an exchange- wench, 255. of a fanatic, 255. of France, 248. of a town-gallant, 255. of a horse-courser, 255. of an ill husband, 255. of the hypocrite, 4. of a Jacobite, 258. of Italy, 249. of a London diurna I, 246. oftheLow Countries, 249. of an Oxford incen- diary, 241. ,....of a certain ugly old p , 257. of an honest and worthy parliament man, 259. 264 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Character of a paum-broker, 255, 256. of a comi^lete physi- cian, or naturalist, 260. of the Presbyterian pastors and people of England, 259. of a projector, 241. of a scold, 255. of Scotland, 249. of a solicitor, 255. of Spain, 250. of a tally-man, 255, 256. of a pilfering taylor, 255. of a temporizer, 248. of a tory, 258. of a town miss, 255. of a trimmer, 258. of an ugly woman, 256. Characters : List of books containing characters, 186. Characters, by Butler, 259. Characters and Elegies, by Wortley, 242. Characters upon Essaies, 206. Characters addressed to La- dies, 258. Characters of virtues and vices, by Bishop Hall, 222. Characterism, or the modern age displayed, 259, Characters, twelve ingenious ; or pleasant descriptions, 257. Charles I, 160, 161, 163, 258. Charles II, 158, 160, 163, 175. Charles, Prince, 159. Chates, 195. Chaucer, 11, 84, 116, 175. Cheap, cross in, 138. Chess-play, verses on, by Breton, 211. Chete, 195. Child, character of, 1. Christ-church, Oxford, 158, 161. Christmas, 127. Chuck, 137. Church-papist, character of, 24. Cinthia's Revenge, by Ste- phens, 201. Citizen, character of a mere gull, 135. City Match, by Mayne, 72, 89. Clarendon, Lord, 160, 161. His character of Earle, 163. Clerke's Tale, by Chaucer, 116. Cleveland, 246. Cliff, Lord, 32. Clitus-Alexandrinus, 225. Clout, 51. Clye, 195. Cocke, J., 205. Cocke Lorell, 197. Cocke Lorelles Bote, 197. Cofe, 193, 195. Colchester, 258. College butler, character of, 39. Comments on books, 105. Complcat gamester, 41. INDEX. 265 Complimental man, charac- ter of, 125. Conceited man, character of, 26. Conceited pedlar, by Ran- dolph, 137. Constable, character of, 40. Constantinople, 25. Constiiutional History, bv Hallam, 24, 25. Contemplative man, charac- ter of, 70. Contents, xiii. Cook, character of a, 90. Cooper, Mrs., 208. Corranto-coiner, character of, 226. Couched, 193. Coventry, Sir William, 257. Councellor, character of a worthy, 208. character of an unworthy, 209. Count erfet cranke, 189. Country knight, character of, 41. Courtier, character of, 199. Coward, character of, 146. Cowardliness, essay on, in verse, 202. Coxeter, 201. Cranke, 189. Cressey, Hugh, his charac- ter of Earle, 166. Cramprings, 195. Crimchan, 227. Critic, character of, 105. Cromwell, 247. Crooke, Andrew, xi. Cuflfen, 195. Cupid, 200. 34 Cure for the itch, by H. P. 218, 219. Cut, 193, 194, 195. Dallison, Maximilian, 208. Dances, old, 239. Danet, Thomas, 201. Danvers, Lord, 180. Darius, 91. Darkemans, 193. David, 243, 244. Davies of Hereford, 198. Dear year, 148. Deboshments, 153. Decker, 29, 30, 83, 99, 188. Dell, 189. Demaunder for glymmar, 189. Demetrius, Charles, 62. Denny, Lord Edward, 222. Description of unthankjul- nesse, by Breton, 208. Detractor, character of a, 54. Deuseauyel, 195. Digby, Sir Kenelm, 13. Dinascoso, 192. Dining in Pauls, 89. Dinners given by the sheriff, 34. Dioclesian, 239. Discontented man, character of, 16. Discourse of the English stage, by Flecknoe, 252. Divine, character of a grave, Dole, 94. Dommei-ar, 189. 266 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Door-posts, 15, 23. Douce, Mr., 232. Doves of Aleppo, 246. Doxe, 189. Dragon that pursued the woman, 54. Dramatic Poets, by Lang- baine, ix. Drugger, 12. Drunkard, character of, 115, Drydeu, 251. Dudes, 195. Dunton, John, 111. Duppa, Dr., 159. Dutchmen, their love for rotten cheese, 18. Earle, Bishop, v, viii, x, xii. Life of, 157, &c. Charac- ters of, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167. List of his works, 167. Name of Earle, xiv. Earle, Thomas, 157. Earthquake in Germany, 62, Ecclesiastical Polity, by Hooker, 160, 163, 167. Translated into Latin, 160. Edward I, 227. Effeminate fool, character of, 210. Ewwv Ba^'XiXT), 160, 163, 168, 175. Dedication to the Latin translation, 175. Eleven of the clock, 34. Elizabeth, queen, 18, 34, 87, 138. Ellinor, queen, 138. Ellis, 207. Ellis, Henry, xi. Empty wit, character of an, 113. Endor, witch of, 244. England, 81, 98. England's selected characters, 205. English Gentleman, by Brathwait, 230. Epigrams, by Flecknoe, 252. Epigrams, by H. P., 218. Esau, 20. Etssay on 3Ian, by Pojae, 2. Essayes and Characters, by L. G., 250. Essays and characters of a prison, by Mynshul, 117, 215. Essays of Love and Marriage, 254. Essex, Lord, 239, "lord of Essex' measures," a dance, 239. Every man in his Humour, by Ben .Jonson, 89, 120. Euphormio, 57. Excellent vercis worthey Imi- tation, supposed by Bre- ton, 208. Eyes upon noses, 32. Elyot, Sir Thomas, 42. F. R., 251. F. T., 245. Fabricius, 40. Falcons, 43. Falstatf, 17, 87. Farley, William, 35. Farmer, Dr., 197. Feltham, Owen, 21, 249. INDEX. 267 Fiddler, character of a poor, 126. Fifty-five enigmatical charac- ters, by R. F., 251, Figures, by Breton, 168, 207. Figure of foure, by Breton, 168. Fines, Catherine, 227. Fines, Mary, 227. Fines, Sir William, 227. Finical, 135, Fishing, treatise on, 43. Flagge, 193, 194. Flatterer, character of a, 131. Flecknoe, Richard, 251,252, 253. Fleming, 149. Fletcher, John, 172. Flitchman, 188. Florio, 192. Ford, T., 245. Formal man, character of, 22. Four of the clock, 91. Four for a penny ; or Poor Eobin\s characters, 256. Four prenfises of London, by Heywood, 83, 138. France, 248. Frater, 189. Fraternitye of Vacabondes, 188, 189, 196. Fresh-water Mariner, 189. Freze, white, 189. Frieze jerkins, 188. Frost, great, 149. Funeral Monuments, by Wee- ver, 88. G. L., 250. Gage, 193. Galen, 10, 27. Gallant, character of an idle, 44, Gallobelgicus, 39. Gallus Castratus, 231. Gallye slops, 188. Gavel-kind, 22. Gee and ree, 50, Geneva Bible, 3. Geneva print, 72. Gennet, 237. Germany, 22, 63. Gerry, 195. Gigges, 210. Gilding of the cross, 138. Gildon's Lives of the English Dramatic Poets, 201. Giles's, St., Church, Oxford, 4. Girding, 17. Glossographia Anglicana No- va, 119. Gloucester cathedral, 35. Gloucestershire, History of, by Atkyns, 35. Goddard, author of the jVastif-iohelp, 13. God's judgments, 63. Gold hat-bands, 57. Gold tassels, worn by noble- men at the University, 57. Good and the bad, by Breton, 12, 206. Governour, by Sir Thomas Elyot, 42. Gough, Mr., 207, 227. Gown of an alderman, 14. Granger, Mr., 245. 268 MICROCOSMOGRx\PHY. Great man, character of a meer, 150. Greek's collections, 62. Grunting cbete, 194. Gryffith, William, 186. Guarded with gold lace, 42. GuiUim, John, 157, 158. Gull in plush, 138. GuVs Hornehooke, by Deck- er, 4, 29, 30, 83, 99. Gygger, 194. Hall, Bishop, 4, 222. Harleian Miscellany, 251, 254, 255, 256. Harman, Thomas, 186. Hnrmanes, 195. Harrison, William, 22, 34, 40. Hart-hall, Oxford, 180. Haslewood, Mr., 237. Hawking, 42, 120. Hawkins, Sir John, 94, 239. Hay, James Lord, 222. Hederby, 138. Hemingford, Huntingdon- shire, 180. Henry the Fourth, by Shak- speare, 87. Henry VI, 13. Henry VII, 4. Henry VIII, 29. Herald, character of an, 97. Heraldry, Treatise on, by GuiUim, 157, 158. Herbert, Mr., 187, 196. Heylin, Peter, account of, 180 — inscription on his monument, 180. Heyne, 125. Heywood, 83, 138. Hickeringill, E., 258. High-spirited man, charac- ter of, 133. Hill, Mr., xi. Hippocrates, 10, History of England, by Carte, 169. History of England, by Ma- caulay, 7, 21. Histrio-mastix, by Prynne, 53. Hobby, 238. Hog-eshed, 193. Hogg, 241. Hogged poney, 238. HoKer, 188. Holinshed, Raphael, 5, 13, 22, 34, 40, 93, 148, 149. Holt, in Germany, 63. Honest man, character of an ordinary, 153. Hooker, Richard, 160, 163, 166, 167. Hool, Samuel, 111. Horse Subsecivpe, ix. Horse-race terms, 120. Hortus Mertonensis, a poem by Earle, 167. Hospitall of Incurable Fooles, xvi. Hostess, character of a handsome, 104. Houghton, Sir Gilbert, 207. Houghton in the Spring, 180. Howell, James, 32. Hudibras, 252. Huggeringe, 192. Hugger-mugger, 192. Hungarian, 107. Hunting, 120. INDEX. 269 Husband, a poem, 198. Hygh-pad, 195. Hypocrite, character of slae precise, 71. Idea of his highness Oliver, by Flecknoe, 252. Ignoramus, 205. Illustrious wife, by Giles 01- disworth, 198. Imputation, 122, 136. Inquisition, 28. Insolent man, character of, 121. Intimations of Immortality, by Wordsworth, 3. Isbosheth, 244. Islip, Oxfordshire, 181. Jacob, 20. Jail-bird, 85. James I, 18, 53, 78, 88. James II, 161. Jarke, 195. Jarke-man, 189. .Jealous man, character of, 155. Jennet, 238. Jerusalem, 139. Jesses, 43. Jesuits, 84, 96. John Dory, 127. John's, St., College, Oxford, 181. Johnson, Richard, 227. Jonathan, 243. Jonson, Ben, 89 : Lines by, 201. Jordans, 32. Juliana Barnes, or Berners, 43. Jump, 132. Keckerman, Bartholomew, 40. Keep, 100. Ken or Kene, 193, 194, 195. Kennett, White, 165 : his character of Earle, 166. Kent, 22. Kent, maid of, 90, King's bench prison, 216. Kippis, Dr., 251. Knight, character of a coun- try, 41. Kynchin-co, 189. Kynchin-morte, 189 Lage, 193. Lagge, 195. Lambarde, 22. Lambeth-palace, 94. Langbaine, ix, 201, 251, 252. Laquei ridiculosi, by H. P., 218. Lascivious man, character of, 139. Laud, Bishop, 180. Laurence, St., 91. Leg to the residencer, 99. Legs in hands, 32. Legerdemain, 154. Legh, Anne, 207. Legh, Sir Edward, 207. Leicester, Earl of, 207. Leigh, see Legh. Lent, 53. 270 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Letters, by HowelL 32. Life and Errors of John Dun- ton, by himself, 111. Life of Ruddiman, by Chal- mers, 39. Lilburne, 247. Lilly, ix. Lipken, 193. Lipped, 193. Lipsius, 27. London, 36, 148. London-bridge, 149. London and country carbona- doed, by Lupton, 236. London Spy, by Ward, 137. Long-lane, 230. Long pavian, a dance, 239. Lovers Dominion, by Eleck- noe, 252. Low Countries, 21, 207,249 : Brief character of, by Fell- tham, 21. Lowre, 193, 195. Lucian, 117. Ludgate, 223. Lupton, Donald, 236. Lybbege, 193. Lycosthenes, 87. Lyghtmans, 193. M. G., 215. M. R., 223. 3Iacbeth, by Shak spear e, 137. Mac-Flecknoe, 253. Machiavel, 28. Magdalen College, Oxford, 180, 244. 3Iaid, a Poem of. bySalston- stall, 232. Blaid's Tragedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher, 175. Mainwaring, Matthew, 216 : family of, ib. Make, 193. Malaga wine, 32, Malone, Mr., 73. Man, Samuel, 245. Manchet, 40. Mars, 240. Martial, 114. Martin, 247. Mary's, St., Church, Oxford, 4, 92. Mastif Whelp, 13. 3Ia stive, or young lohelpe of the old dogge, 219. Maund, 194. Maurice of Nassau, 25. Mayne, 89, 72. Meddling-man, character of, 128. Medicis, Francis de, 77. Melpomene, 62. Memoirs of the Peers of Eng- land, by Brydges, 242. Menander, 173. Menippus, 117. Mephibosheth, 243. Meres, 207. Merry Devil of Edmonton, a comedy, 71. Merton College, Oxford, 158, 162, 163, 167. Microcosmography, 167 : Edi- tions of, xi. Micrologia, by R. M., 223. Minshall-hall, 215. Minshew, 29, 80, 153. Miraculous Newcs from the Cittie of Holt, 63. INDEX. 271 Miscellania, by Flecknoe, 252. Modest man, character of, 111. Monson, Sir Thomas, 42. Monster out of Germany, 62. Monihly Mirror, 206. Monument of Earle, 162. Moorfields, 227. Mooted, 80. More the Merrier, 219. Morley, Dr., 161. Mort, 194. 3Iother''s Blessing, by Breton, 208. 3Ioiise-trap, by H.P., 219. jNIunster, 63. Murdered bodies supposed to bleed at the approach of the murderer, 13. Musgarve, 247? Musick, history of, by Sir .John Hawkins, 239. Myll, 195. Mynshul, 71, 117. Mynshul, Geffray, 215, 216. Nabeker, 193. Nabes, 194. Namptwich, Cheshire, 216. Naps upon Parnassus, 247. Nares, Mr., 11. Nase, 194. Navy of England, 62. Nero, 202. Netherlands, 227. New Anatomie, or character of a Christian or round- head, 241. Newcastle, Duke of, 252 : Lines by, ib. Neio Custome, 188. Newes of this present week, 230. Newgate, 223, 247. Newman, Sir Thomas, 93. Nciv ivay to pay old debls, by Massinger, 90. Nine Muses, a dance, 239. Nine Worthies, 138. Nireus, 117. Noah's flood, 51. Nonconformists, 71. North, Lord, 242. Northern nations, 13. Norton, Northamptonshire, 207. Nose, 193. Numbers, xxv, 6, 74. Nyp, 195. Oldham, Mr., 257. Oldisworth, Giles, 198. Old man, character of a good, 129. One and thirty, 48. Orford, Lord, 242, 256. Osborne, Francis, 88. Overbury, Sir Thomas, 198, 205, 242. Overton, 247. Oxford, 4, 81, 158, 170, 180, 208. P. H., 218. Pad, 195. Painted cloth, 63. 272 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Pallyarde, 189. Pamphlets, character of, 246. Paper, a poem, 1. Paracelsus, 27. Park, Mr., xii, 208, 232, 256. Park, Mr. John James, 233. Parrot, Henry, 218. Parson, character of a poor, from Chaucer, 10. Partial man, character of, 81. Passion of a discontented minde, supposed by Bre- ton, 208. Passions of the Spirit, sup- posed by Breton, 208. Patrico, 189. Pavian, 239. Paul V, pope, 77. Paul's, St., Church, 87, 200, 227. 231, 235. Paul's-cross, 90 : penance at, 90. Paul's-man, 88. Paul's-walk, character of, 87. Paul's-walk, viii : time of walking there, 88. Paynell, Thomas, 11. Pecke,194. Pegasus, 237. Pembroke, Henry, Earl of, 170. Pembroke, Philip, Earl of, 158, 159. Pembroke, William, Earl of, 167 : lines on, 170. Percy, Bishop, 207. Peters, 247. Peter's, St., Church, Oxford, 4. Pharoah, 20. Philaster, by Beaumont and Fletcher, 175. Philip II, of Spain, 29. Phoenix Nest, by B. S., 211. Physician against his ivill, by Flecknoe, 252. Physician, character of a dull, 10. Pick-thank, 142. Picture Loquentes, by Sal- tonstall, 232. Pierce, character of Earle, 167. Pierce Penilesse, 132. Pineda, 119. Plausible man, character of, 63. Plautus, 105 174. Player, characters of, 52, 223. Pleasant walkes ofMoorefields, Plodding student, character of, 86. Plutarch, 31. Pluto, 117. Points, 33. Poland, 227. Ponsonby, William, xvi. Poor man, character of, 151. Poor Tom, 189. Pope, A., 251. Popplar of Yarum, 194. Popular Antiquities, by Brand, 53, 74, 94, 127. Poste, by Breton, 208. Post and pair, 41. Pot-poet, character of, 61. INDEX. 273 Practice of Piety, 73. Pratt, Mr., 222. Prauncer, 19-i. Prayer for the college, 6. Prayer at the end of a play, 6. Prayer used before the uni- versity, 5. Preacher, character of a young raw, 4. Preface to the American edition, v. Pretender to learning, cha- racter of, 95. Prigger, see Prygger. Primero, 29, 30. Primivist, 29. Print, set in, 210. Prison, character of a, 117. Prisoner, character of a, 217. Privy councellor, character of a worthy, 208. Profane man, character of, 145. Progresses of QueenElizaheth, 207. Prologue, 83. Prolusions, by Capel, 199. Proper, 14, 105. Prygger of prauncers, cha- racter of a, 190. Prynne, 53. Puritan, 74, 102, 127. Puritan, picture of a, 197. Puttenham, 207. Quanto Dyspayne, a dance, 239. Quarromes, 193. 35 Querpo, 119. Quintilian, 27. Quyer, or qnyaer, 194, 195. RadcliflFe, Sir Alexander, 225. Raie, 214. Ramus, 27. Randolph, Dr., 137. Rash man. character of,. 141. Rat, black-coat, terms of contempt towards the clergy, 146. Rawlinson, Dr., 239. Re, isle of, 169 : expedition to, ib. Rebellion, History of, by Clarendon, 160. Reed, Isaac, 4, 39, 42, 251. Reformado precisely charac- tered, 241. Regiment of Health, 11. Regimen Sanitatis Salerni, 11. Remains, Butler's, 259. Remains, Camden's, 61. Reserved man, character of,. 28. Resolves, by Feltham, 249. Retchlessly, 116. Richard III, 67. Rich man, character of a sordid, 148. Ritson, Mr., 208. Robert of Normandy, 138. Roge, 188. Roger, 193. Rogers, G., 201. Rogue, see Roge. Rome, 9, 24, 76. 274 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. Rome-bouse, 194. Round bi'eeches, 110. Royal and noble Authors, by Lord Orford, 242. Ruddiman, Life of, by Chal- mers, 39. Ruff of Geneva, print, 71. Ruffs, 210. Ruffian, 195. Huffier, 188, 196. Ruffmanes, 195. Ruffe-pecke, 194. Russell, Earl of Bedford, 11. Rutland, Lady, 172. S. R., 211. Sack, 32, 104. Salerne, 11. Salisbury, 158. Salomon, 193. Saltonstall, Wye, 232. Sandwich, Earl of, 245. Satyrical characters^ 248. Satyrical Essayes, by Ste- phens, 200, 205. Saul, 243. Saxons, 22. Say, E., vii. Saye, 193. Scaliger, 96. Sceptick in religion, charac- ter of, 75. Scholar, character of a, 47. Scold, character of a, 219. Scotus, 74. Sejanus, 82. Select second htisband for Sir Thomas Overburie's wife, by Davies of Hereford, 199. Seneca, 96. Sergeant, or catchpole, cha- racter of, 106. Serving-man, character of, 119. Sforza, 67. Shakspeare, xvi, 1, 13, 15, 29, 51, 63, 87, 94, 137, 192, 239. Shark, character of a, 33. Shark to, 154. Sharking, 152. Sheba, 244. Sheriff's hospitality and table, 34. Sherry wine, 32. Shimei, 243. Ship, 195. Shop-keeper, character of, 100. Short-hand, 4, 5. Shrewsbury, Elizabeth, Countess of, 187. Shrove Tuesday, 53. Sidney, Sir Philip, MO, 173. Silk strings to books, 57. Singing-men in cathedral churches, character of, 99. Skower, 195. Skypper, 193. Socinus, Faustus, 77. Solemne Passion of the Soule^s Love, by Breton, 208. Soliman and Perseda, 132. Sordid rich man, character of, 148. Spaniards, 84. Sparks's Franklin, 1. Specimens of Early English Poets, by Ellis, 207. Spelman, Sir Henry, 22. INDEX. 275 Spinola, 25. Sports and Pastimes, by Strutt, 29, 42, 48, 74. Springes for Woodcocks, hy H. P., 218. Squeazy, 103. Stanley, Richard, 35. Stayed-man, character of a, 108. Steevens, George, 13, 51, 94, 154, 218, 255. Stephen, Master, 120. Stephens, John, 200, 205. Stews, 68. Stowe, 195. Stow's Survey of London, 138. Strange Metamorphosis of 3Ian, 237. Strike, 195. Strummel, 193. Strutt, Mr., 29, 42, 48, 74. Strype, Mr., 138. Sturbridge-fair, 137. Suetonius, 12. Sufferings of the Clergy, by Walker, 160. Surfeit to A. B. C, 247. Surgeon, character of a, 68. Suspicious or jealous man, character of, 155. Swadder, 189. Swedes, 13. Swedish Intelligencer, 230. Switzer, 227. Table-book, 4. Tables, 48. Tacitus, 96. Talbot, Sir John, 170. Tamworth, Staffordshire, 207. Tanner, Bishop, 208. Tantalus, 217. Tavern, character of a, 30. Telephus, 31, 39. Tempest, by Shakspeare, 154. Tennis, 57. Te7i Years' Travel, by Fleck- noe, 252. Term, character of the, 235. Thersites, 117. Thyer, Mr., 259. Tiberius, 82. Times anatomized, 245. Tinckar, or tinker, 189. Tires, 25. Tiring-house, 52. Titus, 12. Tobacco, 31. Tobacco-seller, character of, 60 : called a smoak -seller, ib. Togman, 193. Tower, 194. Town-precisian, 7. Traditional 3Iemoires, by Os- borne, 88. Trumpeter, character of a, 82. Tryne, 193. Tryning, 195. Tuft-hunter, 57. Tully (see Cicero), 19, 27. Turk, 107. Turner, Thomas, 201. Tyburn, 21, 62, 247. Tyntermell, a dance, 239. 276 MICROCOSMOGRAPHY. University College, Oxford, 162. University dun, character of a, 107. University, character of a young gentleman of the, 56. University statutes, 10. Upright man, 188, 193. Urinal, 10. Urine, custom of examining it by physicians, 12 : tax on, ib. Valiant man, character of, 253. Varro, 105. Vault at Gloucester, 35. Velvet of a gown, 56. Venner, 32. Vespatian, 12. Villiers, George, Duke of Buckingham, 258. Virgil, 125. Virginals, 73. Vorstius, Conrade, 77. Vulcan, 240. Vulgar-spirited man, cha- racter of, 83. Vyle, 195. Wales, 98. Walffhart, Conrad, 87. Walker, Dr., 160. Walker, Sir Edward, 157. W^alton, Isaac, x : his cha- racter of Earle, 166. Walwin, 247. Wapping, 230. Ward, C, xii. Ward, Edward, 137. Warde, William, 11. Warnborough, South, 180. Warton, Thomas, 187, 218. Washbourne, R., his Divine Poems, 1. Waste, 195. Watch, 193, 194. Weak man, character of, 59. Weever, 88. Westminster, 117, 138, 150, 157, 180, 236. Westminster, the fellow of, 150. Whimzies, or a new cast of characters, 225. Whip for a jockey, 255. Whipjacke, 189. Whitson-ale, 127. Whitsuntide, 127. Whydds, 195. Widow, a comedy, 34. Wife, character of a good, 221. Wife, now the Widdoio, of Sir Thomas Overbury, 198, 205: editions of, 198. William I, x, 138, 158, 161, 162. Wood, Anthony a, 168, 181, 198, 244. Worcester, Marquis of, 29. World displayed^ xii. World's wise man, character of, 66. Wortley, Anne, 245. Wortley, Sir Francis, 242, 244. INDEX. 277 Wortley, Sir Richard, 244. Writing school-master, by Bales, 5. Wyn, 193. Yarum, 194. York, 36, 157. York, James, Duke of, after- wards James II, 161, 242. Young gentleman of the uni- versity, character of, 56. Young man, character of, 87. Younger brother, character of, 20. Ziba, 243. / i. 4- Sd> Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent; Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Feb. 2009