Chapter VII: Appendix: No. I (2)

[CM] 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, Wynken de Worde, 4to. without date. _History of Printing_ ii. 224, and Percy's _Reliques_, i. 137, edit. 1794.

ii. _Picture of a Puritane, 8vo._ 1605. [Dr. Farmer's _Sale Catalogue_, page 153, No. 3709.]

iii. _"A Wife novv the Widdow of Sir Thomas Overbvrye. Being a most exquisite and singular Poem of the Choice of a Wife. Wherevnto are added many witty Characters, and conceited Newes, written by himselfe and other learned Gentlemen his friends.

Dignum laude virum musa vetat mori,
Caelo musa beat. Hor. Car. lib. 3.

London Printed for Lawrence Lisle, and are to bee sold at his shop in Paule's Church-yard, at the signe of the Tiger's head. 1614."_[CN]

[4to. pp. 64, 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 _Characters_ were printed, says Wood, several times during his life, and the edition above noticed, was supposed, by the Oxford biographer, to be the fourth or fifth[CO]. Having never seen a copy of the early editions, I am unable to fix on any character undoubtedly the production of Overbury, and the printer confesses some of them were written by "other learned gentlemen." These were greatly encreased in subsequent impressions, that of 1614 having only twenty-one characters, and that in 1622 containing no less than eighty.

A COURTIER,--(_Sign. C. 4. b._)

To all men's thinking is a man, and to most men the finest: all things else are defined by the understanding, 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. Hee puts more confidence in his words than meaning, 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 inconstancie, admires nothing but beauty, honours nothing but fortune. Loues nothing. The sustenance of his discourse his 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.

FOOTNOTES:

[CN] In 1614 appeared _The Husband_, a _Poeme_, expressed in a compleat man. See _Censura Literaria_, v. 365. John Davies, of Hereford, wrote _A Select Second Hvsband for Sir Thomas Overbvries Wife, now a matchlesse widow_. 8vo. Lond. 1616. And in 1673 was published, _The Illustrious Wife, viz. That excellent Poem, Sir Thomas Overbvrie's Wife, illustrated by Giles Oldisworth, Nephew to the same Sir T. O._

[CO] It was most probably the fifth, as Mr. Capel, who has printed the _Wife_, in his very curious volume, entitled _Prolusions_, 8vo. Lond. 1760, notices two copies in 1614, one in 8vo. which 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, 1615; the seventh, eighth, and ninth were in 1616, the eleventh in 1622, twelfth in 1627, thirteenth 1628, 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.

iv. "_Satyrical Essayes, Characters, and others, or accurate and quick Descriptions, fitted to the life of their Subiects._ [Greek: ton ethon de phylattesthai mallon dei he tous hecheis]. Theophras.

Aspice et haec, si forte aliquid decoctius audis,
Jude vaporata Lector mihi ferucat aure. IUUEN.

_Plagosus minime Plagiarius._

_John Stephens. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes, and are to be sold by Roger Barnes, at his Shop in St. Dunstane's Church-yard. 1615._"

[8vo. pp. 321. title, preface, &c. 14 more.]

In a subsequent impression of this volume, 8vo. in the same year, and with a fresh title page, dated 1631[CP], 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, _Cinthia's Revenge; or, Maenander's 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[CQ] to the author, whom he calls "his much and worthily esteemed friend," as did F. C. G. Rogers, and Thomas Danet.

Stephens dedicates his book to Thomas Turner, Esq. For the sake of a little variety I give one of his "three satyricall Essayes on Cowardlinesse," 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 Vertue's troope was euer seene,
That did couragiously with mischiefes fight,
Without the publicke name of hipocrite?
Vaine-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.
They are the shamefull cowards, who contemne
Vices of state, 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 vncomfortably blest.
We still account those cowards, who forbeare
(Being possess'd with a religious feare)
To slip occasion, when they might erect
Hornes 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
Who cannot swagger well, or (if he can)
Who doth not with implacable desire,
Follow revenge with a consuming fire.
Extortious rascals, when they are alone,
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 lustfull lady doth inuite,
By some lasciuious trickes his deere delight,
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_,
Of _noble cariage_ or _braue 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,
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 Essayes and Characters, with a new Satyre in defence of the Common Law, and Lawyers: mixt with reproofe against their Enemy Ignoramus, &c. London, 1631._" 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 contributors to, the later copies of Sir Thomas Overbury'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[CR]; viz. the _Tinker_, the _Apparatour_, and _Almanack-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."

FOOTNOTES:

[CP] 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 Instructive_," but this must be a mistake.

[CQ]

"Who takes thy volume to his vertuous hand,
Must be intended still to vnderstand:
Who bluntly doth but looke vpon the same,
May aske, _what author would 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 vnderstand,
May take thy volume to his vertuous hand.
Who cannot reade, but onely doth desire
To vnderstand, hee may at length admire.

B. I."

[CR] These were added to the sixth edition of the _Wife_, in 1615.

v. _Caracters upon Essaies, morall and diuine, written for those good spirits that will take them in good part, and make use of them to good purpose. London: Printed by Edw. Griffin for John Guillim, and are to be 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 by George Purslowe for Iohn Budge, and are to be sold at the great South-dore of Paules, and at Brittaines Bursse._ 1616.

[4to. containing pp. 40, title, dedication "to Sir Gilbert Houghton, Knight," and preface six more. A second edition appeared in 1643, under the title of _England's Selected Characters_, &c.]

The author of these characters[CS] was Nicholas 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[CT], 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, daughter of Sir Edward Legh, or Leigh, of Rushell, Staffordshire, by whom he had five sons and four daughters, and having purchased the manor of Norton, died there June 22, 1624[CU].

Breton appears to have been a poet of considerable reputation among his contemporaries, as he is noticed with commendation by Puttenhem and Meres: Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges declares that his poetical 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 _Specimens_, Cooper's _Muses' Library, Censura Literaria_; and an imperfect list of his publications is given by Ritson, in the _Bibliographia Poetica_, which is augmented by Mr. Park, in the _Cens. Lit._ ix. 163[CV].

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: hee is an oracle in the king's eare, and a sword in the king's hand, an euen weight in the ballance of 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 honour due in the desert of his employment. In summe, he is as a fixed planet mong the starres of the firmament, which through the clouds in the ayre, shewes the nature of his light.

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 king's eare, a sword of terror in the aduice of tyranny: his power is perillous in the partiality of will, and his heart full of hollownesse in the protestation of loue: hypocrisie is the couer of his counterfaite religion, and traiterous inu[=e]tion 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. 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 inbraced 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, deuise 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 fashion: 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 ruffes set in print, to picke his teeth, and play with a puppet. In summe, hee is a man-childe, and a woman's man, a gaze of folly, and wisedome's griefe[CW].

"THE CHESSE PLAY."

Very aptly deuised by N. B. Gent.

[From "_The Phoenix Nest. Built vp with the most rare and refined workes of Noble men, woorthy Knights, gallant Gentlemen, Masters of Arts, and braue Schollers," &c. "Set foorth by R. S. of the Inner Temple, Gentleman." 4to. London, by Iohn Iackson, 1593, page 28._]

A secret many yeeres vnseene,
In play at chesse, who knowes the game,
First of the King, and then the Queene,
Knight, Bishop, Rooke, and so by name,
Of euerie Pawne I will descrie,
The nature with the qualitie.

THE KING.

The King himselfe is haughtie care,
Which ouerlooketh all his men,
And when he seeth how 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.

THE ROOKES.

The Rookes 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.

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[CX],
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 necke:
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."

FOOTNOTES:

[CS] 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 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.

[CT] It is by no means certain that this may not be intended to perpetuate the memory of some other person of the same names, although Mr. Gough, in a note to the second volume of _Queen Elizabeth's Progresses_, seems to think it belongs to our author.

[CU] Bridges' _Northamptonshire_, vol. ii. page 78, s. Shaw's _Staffordshire_, vol. i. page 422.

[CV] To these lists of Breton's productions may be added, 1. _A Solemne Passion of the Soule's Loue._ 4to. Lond. 1598. 2. _The Mother's Blessing_, 4to. Lond. 1602. 3. _A True Description of vnthankfulnesse; or an enemie to Ingratitude._ 4to. Lond. 1602. 4. _Breton's Longing_, 4to. title lost in the Bodleian copy; prefixed are verses by H. T. gent. 5. _A Poste with a packet of Mad Letters_, 4to. 1633, dedicated 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 of Oxford, which contains many of the pieces noticed by Ritson, and, in addition, _The Passion of a discontented 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 worthey imitation of euery Christian in thier 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 198.

[CW] I am not aware that the following specimen of his versification, which is curious, has been reprinted.

[CX] _Raie_, 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.

vii. _Essayes and Characters of a Prison and Prisoners. Written by 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 Iaylor strips the Diuell in ill.")

_Printed at London for Mathew Walbancke and are to be solde at his shops at the new and old Gate of Grayes-Inne._ 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, although it appears perfect, contains precisely the same with that of 1618.

Of Geffray 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[CY], during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. By what mishap he became an inmate of the King's-bench prison, from when he dates[CZ] his _Essayes_, it is impossible to conjecture, but as he talks of usury and extortion, as well as of severe creditors; and advises those who are compelled 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 describe.

In the dedication to his uncle, "Mr. Matthew Mainwaring[DA], 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, fantasies 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 handfull of essayes, and few characters of such things as by my owne experience I could say _Probatum 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 sorrow, bred by discontentments, and nourisht vp with misfortunes, to whosc 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 chiefe ayders in this architect of sorrow."

"CHARACTER OF A PRISONER.

A prisoner is an impatient patient, lingring 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 pleasure to kill him. He is like Tantalus, who hath freedome running by his doore, yet cannot enioy 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 subiect of nine dayes' wonder in euery barber's shop, and a mouthfull of pitty (that he 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 familiars 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 _hei mihi! ve miserum_! and the night with a _nullis est medicabilis herbis_."

FOOTNOTES:

[CY] In the church of St. Mary, at Nantwich, in that county, is a monument erected by Geofry Minshull, of Stoke, Esq. to the memory 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 continued the successions of a worshipfull race in its own name"--&c.

[CZ] This place of residence was omitted in the second edition.

[DA] The Mainwarings were an old family of repute, being mentioned as residing near Nantwich, by Leland, _Itin._ vol. 7. pt. i. fol. 43. See also the list of escheators of Cheshire, in Leycester's _Historical Antiquities_, folio, Lond. 1673, p. 186.

viii. _Cvres for the Itch. Characters. Epigrams. Epitaphs. By H. P. Scalpat qui tangitur. London, Printed for Thomas Iones, at the signs 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 _Henry Parrot_, author of _Laquei ridiculosi: or, Springes for Woodcocks_, a collection of epigrams, printed at London in 1613[DB], 8vo. and commended by Mr. Warton, who says, that "many of them are worthy to be revived in modern collections"[DC]. To the same person I would also give _The Mastive, or Young Whelpe of the Old Dogge. Epigrams and Satyrs._ Lond. (Date cut off in the Bodleian copy,) 4to.--_The Mouse Trap, consisting of 100 Epigrams_, 4to. 1606.--_Epigrams by H. P._ 4to. 1608.--and _The More the Merrier: containing three-score and odde headlesse Epigrams, shot (like the Fooles bolt) amongst you, light where they will_, 4to. 1608[DD].

It appears from the Preface to _Cvres 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_[DE], 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 venom'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 the last word in scoulding, then doth a Combater the last stroke for victorie. She lowdest lifts it standing at her door, bidding, w^{th} 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 counstable, nor at worst threatnings of a cucking-stoole. There's nothing mads or moues her more to outrage, then but the very naming of a wispe, or if you sing or whistle when she is scoulding. If any in the interim chance to come within 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 taking in full measure of digestion, shee presently forgets 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 imperfections, 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."

"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 carefull huswife of frugalitie, and dearest obiect of man's heart's felicitie. She commands with mildnesse, rules with discretion, liues 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 is musicke, 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."

FOOTNOTES:

[DB] Mr. Steevens quotes an edition in 1606, but the preface expressly states, that they were composed in 1611.--"_Duo propemodum anni elapsi sunt, ex quo primum Epigrammata haec (qualiacunque) raptim et festinanter perficiebam_"--&c.

[DC] _History of English Poetry_, iv. 73.

[DD] _Censura Literaria_, iii. 387, 388.

[DE] These consist of a ballad-maker; a tapster; a drunkard; a rectified young man; a young nouice's new yonger 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.

ix. _Characters of Vertves and Vices. In two Bookes. By Ios. 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. 1608[DF]. Of this edition I have in vain endeavoured to procure some information, although I cannot fancy it to be of any peculiar 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 virtuous characters, and fifteen of a different discription. As Bishop Hall's collected works have so lately appeared in a new edition, and as Mr. Pratt[DG] 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, recommending the perusal of his excellent productions, to all who admire the combination of sound sense with unaffected devotion.

FOOTNOTES:

[DF] See Brand's _Sale Catalogue_, 8vo. 1807, page 115, No. 3147.

[DG] See the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for October, 1810, LXXXI. 317.

x. _Micrologia. Characters, or Essayes, of Persons, Trades, and Places, offered to the City and Country. By R. M. Printed at London by 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; a smith; a tobacconist; a cunning woman; a cobler; a tooth-drawer; a tinker; a fidler; a cunning horse-courser; Bethlem; Ludgate; Bridewell; (and) Newgate."--

"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 honest man. To the point, hee oft personates a rover, and therein comes neerest to himselfe. If his action prefigure passion, he raues, rages, and protests much by his painted heauens, and seemes in the heighth of this fit ready to pull Ioue out of the garret, 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 chiefe admirers are commonly young wanton chamber-maids, who are so taken with his posture and gay clothes, they neuer come 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, inducing them by gradation to much lasciuious deprauity. He is a perspicuity of vanity in variety, and suggests youth to perpetrate such vices, as otherwise 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 peregrination, 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 worse disease, taken vp in his full careere, haue onely chalked out his catastrophe but to a colon: and he scarsely suruiues to his naturall period of dayes."

xi. _Whimzies: Or, A new Cast of Characters. Nova, non nota delectant. London, Printed by F. K. and are to be sold by Ambrose Rithirdon, at the signe of the Bull's-head, in Paul's Church-yard. 1631._

[12mo. containing in all, pp. 280.]

The dedication to this volume, which is inscribed to sir _Alexander Radcliffe_, is signed "_Clitus--Alexandrinus_;" the author's real name I am unable to discover. It contains twenty-four characters[DH], besides "_A cater-character, throwne out of a boxe by an experienced gamester_[DI];" and some lines "vpon the birth-day of his sonne Iohn," of which the first-will be sufficient to satisfy all curiosity.

"God blesse thee, Iohn,
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 intelligent merchants doe jeere him, the vulgar doe admire him, holding his novels oracular: and these are usually sent for tokens or intermissiue curtsies betwixt city and countrey. Hee holds most constantly one forme or method of discourse. He retaines some militarie words of art, which hee shootes at 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, clozing his sentence abruptly with--_heereafter you shall heare more_. Which words, I conceive, he onely useth as baites, to make the appetite of the reader more eager in his next week's pursuit for a more satisfying labour. Some generall-erring relations he pickes up, as crummes or fragments, from a frequented 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 publike concourse; hee ingenuously acknowledges himselfe 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 meanes hee recovers the charge of his ordinarie. Paules is his walke in winter; Moorfields[DJ] 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-presse stand. Thanks to his good invention, he can collect much out of a very little: no matter though more experienced judgements disprove him; hee is anonymos, and that wil secure him. To make his reports more credible or, (which he and his stationer onely aymes at,) more vendible, in the relation 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 sentences, _veteri stylo, novo stylo_. Palisados, parapets, counterscarfes, 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 paper. 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 minting, 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, with some illustrations, if their understanding can furnish them that way. He would make you beleeve that hee 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 philosophicall sects, though hee bee ignorant of the tenets of either: in the collection of his observations, he is _peripateticall_, for hee walkes circularly; in the digestion of his relations he is _Stoicall_, and sits regularly. Hee has an alphabeticall table of all the chiefe commanders, generals, leaders, provinciall townes, rivers, ports, creekes, with other fitting materials to furnish his imaginary 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 physicall: yea, with what frontlesse insinuation 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 fabulous relations compiled, they would vye in number with the Iliads of many forerunning ages. You 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 countrey laid waste before ever the enemie 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 reports, which, how incredible soever, must passe for currant, and find vent, purposely to get him currant money, and delude the vulgar. Yet our best comfort 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 _Butter_, or match a pipe, and so _Burne_[DK]. 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 indeered observance, nor hugges ought with more intimacie than antiquitie, which he expresseth even in his cloathes. 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 understood 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 converseth with them, unlesse they walke in Paules. For his discourse it is ordinarie, yet hee will make 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 sufficiently 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 imagine his lampe (if he be worth one,) to be neerely burnt out; his inventing genius wearied and surfoote with raunging over so many unknowne regions; and himselfe, wasted with the fruitlesse expence of much paper, resigning his place of weekly collections to another, 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 weeke you shall heare more_."

FOOTNOTES:

[DH] An almanack-maker; a ballad-monger; a corranto-coiner; a decoy; an exchange man; a forrester; a gamester; an hospitall-man; a iayler; 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 yealous neighbour; a zealous brother.

[DI] This _cater-character_, which possesses a separate title page, contains delineations of an apparator; a painter; a pedler; and a piper.

[DJ] _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. Richard Johnson, a poetaster of the sixteenth century, published in 1607, _The Pleasant Walkes of Moore-fields. Being the Guift of two Sisters, now beautified, to the continuing fame of this worthy Citty_. 4to. black-letter, of which Mr. Gough, (_Brit. Topog._) who was ignorant of the above, notices an impression in 1617.

[DK] This is certainly intended as a pun upon the names of two news-venders or _corranto-coiners_ of the day. Nathaniel _Butter_, the publisher of "_The certain Newes of this present Week_," lived at the _Pyde-Bull_, 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 Sweedish Intelligencer_, 4to. _Lond._ 1632.

xii. _Picturae loquentes: or Pictures drawne forth in Characters. With a Poeme of a Maid. By Wye Saltonstall. Ne sutor ultra crepidam. London: Printed by T. Coles, &c. 1631. 12mo._

I have copied the above title from an article in the _Censura Literaria_[DL], 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.

Saltonstall's[DM] _Characters_, &c. reached a second edition in 1635. A copy of this rare volume is in the possession of Mr. Douce, who, with his accustomed liberality, permitted my able and excellent friend, Mr. John James Park, to draw up the following 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 magis foventes, quam studentes gloriae_, 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, representing to the eye of the minde divers severall professions, 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 ignem_, by the fire-side, and in summer _ad umbram_, under some shadie tree, and therewith passe away the tedious howres. So hoping of thy favourable 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 author bids you welcome.

"Thine as mine,

W.S."

_The Original Characters are_,

1. The world.
2. An old man.
3. A woman.
4. A widdow.
5. A true lover.
6. A countrey bride.
7. A plowman.
8. A melancholy man.
9. A young heire.
10. A scholler in the university.
11. A lawyer's clarke.
12. A townsman in Oxford.
13. An usurer.
14. A wandering rogue.
15. A waterman.
16. A shepheard.
17. A jealous man.
18. A chamberlaine.
19. A mayde.
20. A bayley.
21. A countrey fayre.
22. A countrey alehouse.
23. A horse-race.
24. A farmer's daughter.
25. A keeper.
26. A gentleman's house in the countrey.

_The Additions to the second Edition are_,

27. A fine dame.
28. A country dame.
29. A gardiner.
30. A captaine.
31. A poore village.
32. A merry man.
33. A scrivener.
34. The tearme.
35. A mower.
36. A happy man.
37. An arrant knave.
38. An old waiting gentlewoman.

"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 the 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 chiefe 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 dismist with 'welcome gentlemen.' Now the citty puts her best side outward, and a new play at the 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 seene, 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 long vacation."

FOOTNOTES:

[DL] Vol. 5, p. 372. Mr. Park says that the plan of the characters was undoubtedly derived from that of Overbury, but, he adds, the execution is greatly superior. Four stanzas from the poem entitled, _A Maid_, are printed in the same volume.

[DM] An account of the author may be found in the _Athenae Oxon._ Vol. 1. col. 640.

xiii. _London and Country corbonadoed and quartered into seuerall Characters. By Donald Lupton, 8vo. 1632._

[See British Bibliographer, i. 464; and Brand's Sale Catalogue, page 66, No. 1754.]

xiv. _Character of a Gentleman_, appended to Brathwait's _English Gentleman_, 4to. _London, by Felix Kyngston, &c. 1633._

xv. "_A strange Metamorphosis of Man, transformed into a Wildernesse. Deciphered in Characters. London, Printed by Thomas Harper, and are to be sold by Lawrence Chapman at his shop in Holborne, 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 perform 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 complacence in her worke. He is even her master-peece in irracionall things, borrowing somewhat of all things to set him forth. For example, his slicke bay coat hee tooke from the chesnut; his necke from the rainbow, which perhaps make him rain so wel. His maine belike he took from _Pegasus_, making him a hobbie to make this a compleat gennet[DN], which main he weares so curld, much after the women's fashions 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 swiftnesse, which makes him a true courser indeed. The starres in his forehead hee fetcht from 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 hornes 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 perfection, 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 you 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 one hand, a switch 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[DO] 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, 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 off, 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 curtall. 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 monarchie of our wildernesse."

FOOTNOTES: