VVits Fancies: OR, CHOICE OBSERVATIONS AND ESSAYES, Collected out of Divine, Political, Philo­sophical, Military, and Historical AUTHORS.

By JOHN UFFLET. Gent.

Accusator qui consortem defert, sese in [...]ueator.

LONDON, Printed by T.L. and are to be sold by the Booksellers. MDCLIX.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

Courteous Reader,

WHen you have sur­veyed each Page of this little Treatise, you (I hope) will be able to render an account of it, how you like the Fabrick, and if it be well rear'd, the thought of falling is not to be feared, though he that did erect it, did not serve [Page]many years to the Profes­sion, nor deserved the at­tribute of an Architect, yet he hath used his best endeavours to write truly those things that (by his own Experiences) he knows, and thought it meet (without the least offence) to Entitle it, Wits Fan­cies, or choice Obser­vations, &c. being the marrow of all that ever he read in any History, either Sacred or Pro­phane.

In a word Reader, (not to make the Gates bigger then the City) I intreat thee with washed hands, and without a pre­judicate Opinion, to re­ceives it: So

Farewel.

TO The Right Honorable and Vertuous Sir, T.N.Kt. Health and Happiness.

Honored Sir,

THe confidence I have of your goodness, hath imboldened me to put this small Treatise into your Honor's Protection, which (with some) would have been held a Crime intolle­rable. But I know your Honor is so far from being a Censurer, that you had [Page]rather cherrish honest en­deavours, then destroy them: And besides this, there is a self-affecting Sect crept now up in this our Age, that will not one­ly disgorge their Envy & Malice, but arrest the sense, unless some honest and judicious Patron be fixt to the fronts-piece, to correct their sawcy peer­ing, (as the beams of the Sun) with blindness: I knowing your Name to [Page]be such as amongst the dis­cerning spirits deserves the highest Attributes of worth, and of such singu­lar power, that it will ex­tirpate the Malevolent Thoughts that reign now in the vulgar & infectious Traducers; for now may it be truly said of this Age, Saturitas illece bra­rum Nutrix, That sulness is the Nurse of Wantonnesse; and because such a glut of Bookes is [Page]come forth into the world, Vulgi genus perplex­us, the spirits of the com­mon people are troubled and perplexed. I therefore thought good to tender this as my first fruits at the altar of your Mercy; and if it may be so happy as to obtain the reflection of the beams of your mercy or acceptance, it will so much encourage your poor admi­rer, that I shall be ambiti­ous in the continuance of [Page]your Honour's favours. These are the Maiden flowers of my young age, which in the blossome may be smothered without your Honor's protection; which in their infancy may be destroyed by the breath of some Railers; but shelter­ed by your Honour, they shall live, and dare the Criticks Rancor, retorting to their own shame.

Honored Sir, the foster­ing this Orphan, will [Page]make you famous for Cha­rity, and impose an Obli­gation beyond expression, upon

Your Honor's truly devoted, T.Y.

WITS ACADEMY OR, Choice Observations collected out of Divine, Political, Philo­sophical, Military and Historical Authors, &c.

Of Evil.

THE abetting of Evil is worse then the commis­sion: the one may be upon infirmity, the o­ther must be upon reso­lution.

The reiteration of vicious acts, causes them to be believed to proceed from mans de praved nature, and not from the necessity of occasion.

Abstinence.

Abstinence merits not; for religion consists not only in the belly, either full or empty: What are meats or drinks to the kingdome of God which is like him­self, spiritual? but it prepares best for good duty; full bellies are fitter for rest: Not the body so much as the soul is more active with emptiness: thence solemn prayers takes ever fasting to attend it, and so much the rather speeds in heaven when it is so accom­panied: It is good to dyet the body, so as the soul may be fatned. Nature pleads for liberty, Religion for absti­nence; not that there is more unclean­ness in the Grape then in the fountain; but that wine finds more uncleanness in us then water; and that high food is not for devotion, but abstinence.

Actions.

It is not the action, but the quality and manner thereof that is vicious.

In all actions, he that regardeth not the beginning, foreseeth not the end.

All actions beyond ordinary, limits a subject to sinister interpretation. In a good action it is not good to search too deeply into the intention of the a­gent, but in silence to make our best benefit of the work. In an evil action it is not safe to regard the quality of the person, nor his success, but to con­sider the action abstracted from all cir­cumstances in his own kind; so wee shall neither neglect good deeds, for their success, nor affect prosperous evils.

Every vertuous action hath a double shadow, according to the diverse as­pects of the beholders, one of glory, a­nother of envy.

There is no word or action but may be taken with two hands, either with charitable construction, or sinister in­terpretation of malice and suspition.

A good work is then only good and acceptable, when the action, meaning, and manner are all good; for a thing may be done in one circumstance, but cannot be good but in all; therefore what ever business a man go about, let him enquire what he doth for the sub­stance, how for the manner, why for the intention.

To construe an evil act well, is but a pleasing and profitable deceit to a mans self; but to misconstrue a good action, is a trebble wrong, viz. to a mans self, to the action, and to the Au­thor.

The instruments of evil actions ought to be punished, whenas having recei­ved the reward of their lewdness, yet go about to charge others with it.

All men which are to enter into great and important actions, ought to weigh and consider with themselves, whether that which is undertaken be profitable for the Common-Wealth, honorable for themselves, and easie to be acted, or at least not greatly difficult; withall the party that perswadeth unto it; whether besides bare words and advice he ad­joyn [Page 5]his own peril thereunto, yea or no: And if future good favour the action, to whom the principal glory accrueth.

It is well and rare if we can come out of a dangerous action without a foyl.

In actions let not a man do alwayes his best; It is neither wise nor safe for a man to stand upon the top of his strength. Great actions require migh­ty Agents.

The unworthiness of the Agent ma­ny times crosses a good action.

Evil actions have oft-times good meanings, and those good meanings are answered with evil recompences; many a one bestowes his labour, his cost and his blood, and receives disgrace and torment instead of thanks and reward.

Actions notorious & villanous, may countenance extraordinary means of prosecution: Every action that is reported, is not strait-wayes allowed; If every act of a holy person should be our rule we should have crooked lines.

Oft-times the circumstance of an action marrs the substance in divine matters, we must not onely look that [Page 6]the body of our service be sound, but that cloathes be fit; nothing hinders but that good advice sometime may fall from the mouth of wicked men.

A mans heart can best judge of it self, others can best judge of his actions; hap­py is that man that can be acquitted by himself in private, in publique by o­thers, in both by God.

It is very safe for a man to look into himself by others eyes; in vain shall a mans heart absolve him that is condemned by his actions.

It is certain that all indifferent acti­ons and behaviour of a man have an ex­tream holding and dependence, either upon virtue, or vice, according as they are used or ruled, for there is no middle betwixt them, no more then betwixt their rewards, heaven and hell.

It is not sufficient for a man to have, (& refrain within himself) never so ma­ny vertues and good qualities, except he imploy them and set them on work for the benefit of others; Virus enim la­tus omnis consistit in actione.

The actions and writings of every man take not-except in the matter, sub­ject, [Page 7]and occasion some commending favoritie to happen to it.

All our actions upbraid us of folly, our whole course of life is: but matter of laughter, we are not soberly wise.

We commonly measure and censure all actions, and the doers of them, by the event, one is crowned for that which another is tormented, as Caesar and Erachus.

Grievous Enormities and bitter Calumnies commonly follow renown­ed actions.

Present actions are not with safety related, nor are they listned unto with­out danger. The actions of our ances­tors use to be examined, not to be ma­lignate; for we not emulate, but imi­tate them; We willingly listen to the praise of such, who (gotten long since out of the reach of envy,) seem by their deeds of fame, to raise the weakness of mortality; and faults which are found in past actions, displease not, whilest they take from us the evil opinion of the present times.

The action is easie to be effected, which hath nothing of fear in it, but [Page 8]the act it self: Great actions have need of help, else they will be suffocated by simplicity.

It is easie to add to the greatness of actions by words, to truth by appear­ances it is not amiss.

The government of a State is but a slippery path; one only bad action is sufficient to ruinate a Prince, who hath been raised up by a thousand good ones.

A present good action, is able to make a past bad one to be forgotten, when it is thought that the like will not again be done.

Actions are not alwayes done by their agents, in an instant, dispositions pro­ceed them, the truth of whose effects we do not know, because the vertue of cau­ses is unknown to us.

The sequell of every action depend­eth for the most part upon the begin­ning; Dimidium facti qui bene caepit ha­bet. So forceable continually is the be­ginning, and so connexed to the sequell by the nature of a precedent cause, that the end must needs erre from the com­mon course, when it doth not partici­pate [Page 9]of that quality which was in the beginning.

In nature all violent actions are of short continuance, and the durability, and lasting quality of all actions, pro­ceedeth from a slow and temperate progression; so that the resolutions of the mind that are carried with an un­temperate violence and favour, much heat and passion, do vanish away even with the smoake thereof, and brings forth nothing but leasurable repen­tance; therefore it is best for men of such natures to qualifie their hasty re­solutions, with a mistrustful lingering, that when their judgement is well in­formed of the cause, they may proceed to speedy execution.

Fame is the spirit of a great action, & maketh them memorable or unworthy by report.

The actions of men would be none at all, if they were not at first received in the mind.

Experience teacheth, that no action is wisely undertaken, whereof the end is not wisely forecast in the first place, however it is the last in execution.

It is great justice that our actions should be measured by opinion, & not by reason.

The nature of man is forward to ac­cept, but negligent to sue for they can spend secret wishes upon that which shall cost them no endeavors.

Naturall Men.

It is the fashion of naturall men to justifie themselves in their own courses, if they cannot charge any earthly thing with the blame of their own sufferings, they wil cast it upon heaven; that a man pleads himself guilty of his own wrong, is no common work of Gods Spirit.

Griefe.

Griefes increase exceedingly, when they grow upon occasion which hap­neth besides all reason: Like as any accident which falleth beyond our ex­pectation, is more greievous, then that whereof a reason may be rendred, and which a man might suspect to follow.

Service.

Service which is received from an in­ferior, [Page 11]argues weakness and challengeth great recompence; to equalize the re­compence to the benefit received, is to equalize the receiver to the benefactor; those benefits which are received from a superior, are willingly acknowledged, for acknowledgement is all he expects, which witnessing the receivall of them, obliges to an addition of more.

Compellation.

Sweetness of compellation is a great help toward good entertainment of admonition; roughness and rigour ma­ny times hardens those hearts, which meekness would have melted into re­pentance; whether we sue, or convince or reprove, little good is gotten by bit­terness.

Not onely the vocall admonitions, but also the reall judgements of God are his errands to the world.

Adversaries.

Violent adversaries to uphold a side, wil maintain that which they do not be­lieve; God provides on purpose for his Church mighty adversaries, that their humiliation may be the greater in sus­taining, [Page 12]and his glory may be the greater in their deliverance.

Love.

It is no love that cannot make us wil­ling to be miserable with those we affect: the hollowest heart can be content to follow one that prospereth; adversitie is the only furnace of friendship; if love will not abide both fire and envie, it is but counterfeit. All adversity finds ease in complaining, and tis a comfort to relate it. Prosperity and adversity have ever tied and untied the affections of the Vulgar. He that is fallen into ad­versity hath not only enemies to pur­sue him, but his friends forsake him and become his foes.

Advancement.

Advancement is not alwayes a sign of love, either to the man or to the place; some men are raised up, that their fall may be the greater; there are no men so miserable as those that are great and wicked.

Behaviour.

Winning Behaviour, advisedness and fierceness mingled together, season a­ny affair excellently wel; when the win­ning behaviour appears sufficiently, the advisedness not at al, and the fierceness but a little.

Affections.

The affections of the body may be inculpable, but not the mind's.

There is no disposition so neer bor­dered upon vice, and leaning to it; but by the reins of prudence, may be re­strained and kept in the right way: so there is no nature so neer a-kin to ver­tue, but may be corrupted by ill usage; Therefore it is good to contemplate the affections of men, as they are attended with good or ill, and search how far they may be hurtful or valuable, least we immoderately praise some, and do unjustly undervalue others.

All living creatures by a secret insti­gation, affect to be most doing of that thing in which they are best able.

Angels.

Angels when they appear, are con­ceived to cloath themselves with the E­lements. Of all Creations that are so near us as Angels be, God hath shut up the knowledge of them most from us in Scripture; and no man yet hath gi­ven a satisfying reason for it: Some hold that they be one of the three In­visibles, to wit, God, Angels, and the Soul of man; all which the eye hath ne­ver seen their simple existence.

Angels are simple and abstract Intel­ligences and Substances, altogether without bodies.

Antiquity.

Any man whatsoever may erre in matters of Antiquity. The study of Antiquity is a fair knowledge, which is most precious for the adoring of hu­mane life, and strong at least in plead­ing for humane oftentation. The Or­der of Dignity is to be respected be­fore the Order of Antiquity.

Apparel.

Apparel was first instituted by God for three causes; first to hide our na­kedness and shameful parts: Next to make us more comely: And lastly, to preserve us from the injuries of heat and cold.

Apprehension.

Apprehension gives life to crosses. The efficacy of Gods marvellous works is not in the acts themselves, but in our apprehension. Some are overcome with those motives which others have con­temned for weak.

Appetite.

Our Appetite must be curbed, our passions moderated, and so estranged from the World, that in the loss of Pa­rents or Children, Nature may not for­get Grace. Whosoever slackens the reins of his sensual appetite, will soon grow unfit for the calling of God. The concubisciple and irascible appetite, are as the two twists of a Rope, mutually mixt one with another, & both twining about the heart; both good if they be [Page 16]moderate; both pernicious if they be exorbitant. If the Appetite will not obey, let the moving faculty over-rule her, and let her resist and compel her to do otherwise.

Forms.

God hath not appointed to every time and place those Forms which are simply best in themselves, but those that are best to them to whom they are ap­pointed; which we may neither alter till he begin, nor recal when he hath alte­red.

Apostacy.

An Apostate is an opposer of the Faith he once professed, and is worse then he that opposeth that which he never profest.

Arts.

The Fame of all eminent Arts is stai­ned by the multitude of Artificers; and the unskilfulness of them; most of them being unable to do what they promise, and seeking their commendation onely [Page 17]in the vain name of such an Art.

Art Military is despised in time of rest and quiet; and Peace esteemeth a­like of the Coward and the Couragi­ous. Practise brings, or breeds Art, and Art obtaineth Grace. Beauty is more beholding to Art then Nature; and stronger provocations proceed from outward Ornaments, then such as Nature hath provided.

Art can never attain to Natures per­fection, imitate it never so near, though our esteem prefers it; and seeing it gets a little by emulation, attribute much more unto it.

The practise of every Art is referred to the use or profit, and thereby judg­ed.

Art will be discovered if it be often used, when that would be made seen which is not, it must be curiously done if any good be expected.

Three things are sought in every Ar­tist, that is to say, Nature, Skill and Practise; his Nature to be judged of by his Wits his Skill by his Knowledge, and his practise by Use.

Edward the third brought Artisicers [Page 18]for mahing Cloth from Gaunt.

The strength of a battel consisteth in the Artillery and Shot.

Aristoeracy.

Aristocracy is a form of a Common-Weal, wherein the less part of the Ci­tizens with Soveraign Power command over all the rest.

Unthankful attempts are alwayes re­warded with grief and disgrace.

Harmless counsels are good for the innocent; but in open and manifest vil­lanies there is no hopes of safety, but in audacious attempts. Foul attempts are begun with danger, and sometimes accomplished with reward.

Changes are the aptest times for grea­test attempts, delayes then are dange­rous; and soft quiet dealing draweth more evil then rashly hazarding.

All but Athiests, however they let themselves loose, yet in some things find themselves restrained, and shew to others that they have a conscience.

Every thing hath a quantity that it cannot exceed, and hath a power to at­tain to it; from the generative causes [Page 19]whereof the thing it self is produced; by which power (if it be not hindered) it dilateth it self gradually in time till it come to the fulness, where it either resteth, or declineth again as it grew up: the manner of Augmentation proceedeth from the qualities that Na­ture hath infused into every thing, and neither from matter or form.

Evil were as good not seen, as not a­voided. To fore-know and not to avoid evil, is but an aggravation of judge­ment.

Equal Authority where there is the self same power, is commonly pernici­ous to all actions, it being impossible to chuse two minds of so equal a temper that they shall not have some motions of dissenting.

It is the hard condition of Authori­ty, that when the multitude fare will they plaud themselves, when ill they repine against their Governors.

Authority cannot fail of opposition though it be never so mildly swayed.

Soveraignty abused is a great spur to outrage. The conceit of Authority in great Persons, many times lies in the [Page 20]way of their own safety, whiles it will not let them stoope to the ordinary course of nature,

There is no passion that doth eclipse the light of reason, or sooner corrupt the sincerity of a good judgement, then that of anger, neither is there any mo­tion, that pleaseth it self in its own acti­ons, or followeth them with greater heat in the execution, and if the truth chance to shew it self and convince a false pretended cause as the author of that passion, it often times redoubleth the rage even against truth and inno­cencie.

The punishment of banishing offen­ders was first broght into this Island by Edward the Confessor.

Liberal modesty is decent, but clounish bashfulness is disgraceful.

That no man should be too much discouraged for the baseness of his pro­pagation; even the base son of man may be lawfully begotten of God. King Hnery the second, was supposed to be begotten of Maud the Em [...]irsse, some time before by [...]tephen of Bloys, before shee was married to Geffery Plan­tagenek Duke of Anjoy.

In the fifth year of Henry the eight, was a battel fought neer Floddon-Feild, between James the fifth King of Sco [...]s and the Kings Leivtenant of the North, the Earle of Surrey, in which the King of Scots was slain, and the Howards Earls of Surrey, have quartered the Scottish Armes ever since.

It is not good to tempt the fortune of a battle, unless there be either an offer of a speciall advantage, or other­wise cumpulsion of necessity.

It is a most dangerous thing for a Prince to hazard his estate in battel, if he may by any other means make a good end, for a small loss in battle, changeth and altereth the minds of his Subjects.

The loss of a battel traineth with it a number of inconveniences to him that is vanquished.

Beasts as well as men, do soon alter and bastardise their affections.

Beasts may teach us by their exam­ples, and condem us by their practise.

The image of the beast in the Revela­tion, in his dissimulation, in such as profess religion, and practise infideli­ty, [Page 22]they fain to be what they are not, and their show, (not their truth) pro­cureth them the name of Christians.

Beauty is lively, shining or glittering brightness, resulting from effused good; by Ideas seeds, reasons, shaddows, stir­ring up our minds, that by this good they may be united and made one.

Beauty is the perfection of the whole composition, caused out of the Con­gruous Symetry, measure, order, and manner of parts; and that comeliness which proceeds from this beauty is called grace, and from thence all fair things are gracious, for grace and beau­ty are annexed together

It was beauty first ministred occa­sion to art, to find out knowledge of carving, printing, building, to find out moulds, prospectives, rich furni­tures, and so many rare inventions.

Beauty is natures priviledge, a dumb comment, a silver fraud, a still Rheto­rick that perswades without speech, a kingdom without a guard, a Tyranny that Tyranizeth over Tyrants.

In beauty that of favour is preferred before that of colours, and decent mo­tion [Page 23]is more then that of favour.

Beauty is the g [...]ft of God, but given to the evil also, least the good should imagine of too great worth. All bodi­ly beauty is a congruence in the mem­bers, joyned with a pleasing colour, and where that is not, there is ever­more dislike, either by reason of defect or superfluity; Beauty is of two sorts, one wherein dignity excelleth, another wherein comeliness; Beauty is the flower and blossome of vertue.

Beatitude is not attained unless it be affected; Beatitude consists not in the knowledge of Divine things, but in a Divine life, for the Devills know more then men.

Beatitudo non est Divinorum cognito, sed vita Divina.

Faire beginnings are no sound proofs of our proceedings and ending well how often hath a bashfull childhood, ended in an impudency of youth; a strict entrance in licentiousnes, is early for­wardness in A theisme.

A comely and graceful carriage, and behavior is an ornament to the vertue of brave men; but to weake spirits, it [Page 24]serves but a vigor or naturall cover­ture, to hide or qualifie their abject and low minds.

Pope Iohn the 14 th. Christened the great Bell of Lateran after his own name, he being the first that ever Christened Bells.

It sufficeth for a Christian to believe this was, or that shall be, let the means alone to him, who concealeth the plain­est works of nature from our apprehen­sions; more beleife ought to be given to things vvhich appear impossible, then to those which admit of likely-hood; who would make a lye to be beleived, delienates forth a seeming truth, and not an impossibility.

The best rule which can be given for living in safety, is alwayes to fain be­leife, yet alwayes to doubt, men wil­lingly believe that which they would have come to pass.

We honor God when we do believe him, for thereby we give him the glo [...] of all his attributes.

How far a thing is dissonant, and dis­agreeing, from the guise and trade of the hearers, so far shall it be out of their beleife.

King Edward the fourth, in the second year of his reign, was the first King of England, that ever did exact mony of his subjects by vvay of benevolence.

In point of entering a breach, there is a little or no difference, between a strong town and a weake, for the be­seiged in either do wholly trust to their new and sudden works.

The obligation of a benefit hath wholy reverence unto the will of him that giveth.

Men are more dull in felling of a good turn, then of an ill; we have not so sensible and perfect feeling of health, as we have of the least sickness.

Good turns or benefits are no lon­ger wel taken, then they may be re­compenced; when they grow greater then hope of requital, instead of thank­fulness they breed hatred and ill will.

Dangerous are too great benefits from a subject to a Prince, both for themseves and the Prince, when they have their minds capable only of me­rit, and nothing of duty; benefits are more easily forgotten then injuries.

All benefits lose much of their splendor, both in the giver and re­ceiver, which bear with them an exprobative tearm of necessitie.

It is too much niceness in them to forbear the benefits, they might make of the faculties of prophane & here­ticall persons, they consider not they have more right to the good such persons can do, then they that do it, and challenge that good for their own.

The way to obtain any benefit, is to devote it in our hearts to the glo­ry of God, of whom we ask it; by this means shall God both pleasure his servant, and honour himself; whereas if the scope of our desires be carnall, we may be sure either to fail of our sute or of a blessing.

A Benefit that is upbraided, be­cometh burthensome, and odi­ous, and is not thankfully accepted; Commemoratio, est quasi exprobatio.

Benefits are alwayes willingly re­ceived, but the benefactors are not alwayes willingly beheld: The ob­ligation which remains, sowers the [Page 27]sweet of the benefit received.

All birds build their nests towards the East.

It is a thing that ordinarily daun­teth and casteth down the heart of a man, when he is privy to the base­ness of his birth, and knoweth some defect, blemish; or imperfection in his parents.

That birth detracts from the merit of great actions, which obliges to greater.

In the 12: th. year of William the Conquerour Lanfranke, Arch-Bishop af Canterbury, in a councill holden at London, removed certain Bishops-See from small townes as; Kirtor, Wells, Shirburne, Dorchester and Li [...]ch­field, to townes of more eminency, as to Chichester, Exeter, Bath, Salisbu­ry, Lincolne and Coventry.

In the 10 th. year of Hendry the first, Ely-Bishoprick was founded, and Cambridge-Shire taken from the See of Lincolne and annexed to it; one Harvie was the first Bishop.

In the first year of Richard the first, Hugh Pudsey Bishop of Durham for a [Page 28]great sum of money was created Earl of the same place, the King say­ing he had made a young Earl of an old Bishop.

Bishops were first chosen to avoid dissention of equality.

In the two and 20. th. year of King Henry the second, it was sufficient­ly proved that all the Bishops of Scot­land, were subject to the Arch-Bishop of York, who with the beginning of the Popes of Rome, was Primate of all Scotland, and all the Isles of the same.

The 10. th. year of William Rufus, the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury being Primate of Ireland, consecrated Mal­chus Bishop of Waterford, which place was mada a Bishops-See at the same time.

In the 6. year of William the Con­querour, it was decreed at a Synod holden at Windsor, that the Arch-Bi­shop of York should be subject to the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, and that the Arch-Bishop of York, with all the Bishops of his Province, should come to such a place as the Arch-Bishop of [Page 29] Canterbury should appoint to hold a Counsell at.

It is no true Bishop that desireth rather to be Lordly himself then pro­fitable to others; Leo the fourth Pope of Rome made a decree, that a Bishop should not be condemned, but by 72. witnesses: The good Bi­shops of Rome, continued almost 300. years, the first of them was named Limus.

Blood is hot, sweet, temperate, a red humor prepared in the mese­raick veins, and made of the most temperate parts of the Chilus in the Liver, whose office is to nourish the whole body, to give it strength and colour, being dispersed by the veins through every part of it, and from it spirits are first begotten in the heart, which afterwards by the Ar­teries are communicated to all the o­ther parts.

The force and power which lyeth in the blood, the spirits and in the whole body, is that which causeth the diversity of passions, by reason that the passible part growing out of [Page 30]the flesh, as from a root doth bud and bring forth with it a quality & proves semblable

The bodies misgriefes proceed from the soul, and if the mind be not first sa­tisfied, the body can never be cu­red.

The corruptable body suppresseth the soul, and the earthly mansion keeps down the mind that is much occupi­ed.

Mans soul though it be immortal, dy­eth a kind of death, it is called immor­tall, because it can never leave to be living, and sensitive, and the body is mortall, because it may be destitute of life, and left quite dead in in self, but the death of the soul is when God lea­veth it; and the death of the body is when the soul leaveth it; so that the death of both, is when the soul being left of God, leaveth the body.

Labienus of Rome was the first on whom the punishment of burning bookes, or writings, was excluded upon. Bookes are living Ideas of the Authors mind.

Something it is to have a fame go of a man; yet words are as fame, soon blown over, when Libera scripta ma­net; Books out live men.

Boldness or Valour is not terrified with a mans own danger, but to fear in the behalf of others, is humani­ty.

Boldness and fear are commonly misplaced in the best hearts, when we should tremble we are confident, and when we shoud be assured we tremble.

A cold and moist brain is an insepe­table companion of folly.

Brevity although it breed difficulty, yet it carrieth great gravity.

Brevity when it is neither obscure nor defective, is very pleasing even to the choycest judgements.

Brevity makes counsell more por­table for memory, and easier for use.

The Brownists say, they did not make a new Church, but mended an old.

The Brownists seperate, for these four causes or points, A hateful Prela­cie, [Page 32]a devised ministery, a confused communion, and an intermixture of errors.

The Brownists charge Episcopacie with four heresies, first their Canons, secondly sin uncensured, thirdly their Hyrarchy, fourthly their Service book.

The agreement of brothers is rare, by how much nature hath more en­deared them, by so much are their quarrells more frequent and dange­rous.

Butidius a man well qualified, and if he had taken a right course, a man likely to have come to honourable pre­ferment, over much haste pricked for­wards, and at the first went about to out-go his equalls, then his Superiors, and at last of all to fly above his own hopes, which hath been the overthrow of good men, who contemning that, which by a little patience is had with security; hasten to that which gotten before his time, breedeth their ruine and destruction.

Buying and selling of men and wo­men, which was used in England un­till [Page 33]the third year of Henry the first was then prohibited.

In the third year of Henry the first, by a Synod holden at London, it was de­creed, that all burialls should be in their own Parish, because the Priest should lose his [...]ees.

The care of burialls, the pomp of fu­neralls and magnificent Tombs, are rather solaces to the living, then fur­therances to the dead.

A Canon is that which in a univer­sal counsell is established.

Innocent the fourth, was the first Pope that caused Cardinalls to wear red hats, and to ride with trappings.

A Canteed containeth a hundred Townships.

Nothing cometh to pass without an efficient cause: There be three sorts of causes naturall, voluntary, and casual; Nothing is ended or begun without a Precedent cause; that cause can hardly rise again, and recover grace which hath been once foyled; It is a sign of a desperate cause to make Satan our Counsellor or our refuge.

Although a man have a good cause, he may fail in obtaining his right by Law, unless he follow it earnestly, de­fend it stoutly, and spend freely.

Those things are casual whose act is not premeditated by any Agent,

It is the weakness of good natures, to give so much advantage to an ene­my; Wha [...] would malice rather have, then the vexation of them whom it persecuets? We cannot better please an adversary, then by hurting our selves; this is no other then to humor envies, to serve the turn of those that maligne us, and to draw on that ma­lice whereof we are weary; whereas carelessness puts ill will out of counte­nance, and makes it withdraw it self in a rage, as that which doth but shame the Author without the hurt of the pa­tient; in causless wrong the best reme­dy is contempt.

In the first year of Richard the first, the City of London received their Char­ter of freedom, and to chuse twenty six Aldermen, and out of that num­to chuse a Major to rule the rest, also two Bayliffs or Sheriffs, whereas from [Page 35]the Conquest, they were governed by Port-greeves.

In the 21. year of Henry the third, the King at a Parliament at Westminster, comfirmed the great Charter: The 26. of Edward the first, the great Charter was, confirmed, and at the same time it was enacted, that the King should not charge the Subjects with any taxes or tullages, but by Par­liament: It was also confirmed again in the 27. year of his raigne, with these words added, Salvo jure Coronae nostrae; Edward the third confirmed the great Charter in the 15. year of his raigne.

The Duke of Orleans, the French Kings brother, challenged King Hen­ry the fourth to meet him with 100. Knights compleatly armed, against the like number, and the vanquished to be ransomed at the victors pleasure.

A substantiall change is above the reach of all infernall powers, and is proper to the hand that created the substance of both.

The good creatures of God that have been prophaned to Idolatry, may in a change of their use be imployed the [Page 36]the holy service of their maker.

Where there is a setled course of good government (howsoever ble­mished with some weakness) it is not safe to be over forward, to a change though to a better.

The change of a Prince never hap­neth in any Realm, but it trayneth with it great troubles and sorrows, because at an alteration, men are for­ced to change & alter their manners & form of living suddenly; for that that pleaseth one Prince disliketh another.

It never yet hapned to anyman since the beginning of the World, nor ever will, to have all things according to his desire, or to whom fortune was ne­ver opposite, or did change.

Great charges can hardly be go­verned without some indiscreet poli­cies.

In those actions whereby an offence may be occasioned, (though not gi­ven;) charity binds us both to cleer our own name, and the conscience of others.

As faith draws home generalities, so charity diffuseth generalities from it self to others.

If we may refresh the soul of the poor, with the very offalls of our e­state, and not hurt our selves; wo be to us if we do it not.

Where there is a misconceit of God, no marvel if there be a defect of cha­rity.

The nature of charity is to unite and bind men together in all mutuall chris­tian offices, and it doth not only u­nite and bind men, but keeps them so when they are together. Charitas, est quasi chare unitas.

There is no matter of such conse­quence in it self, but may be much gra­ced with ceremonies & complements, which like Officers add much respect and majesty to the action; which o­therwise being but boldly presented, appeareth far meaner, and of less re­gard.

The vulgar use to censure him that punished the fault, not him that makes it.

Wise men must care not only to de­serve well, & to wipe off not only the crimes, but censures also.

It is not safe to censure all mens acti­ons by our own conceit, but rather to think there may be a further drift, and warrant of their act then we can attain to see.

It is no censuring of the truth of our present sorrow, by the event of the following misarriages.

We ought not to censure mens worths by singularity, but to take them carnall with all their qualities together.

Carnall men think that impossible to others, which themselves cannot do; from hence arise their censures, hence their exclamations: There must be discretion, there must be partiality in our censures of the greatest.

There be five limitations of injoyn­ed ceremonies, first they that be not against Gods word; secondly, that justification or remission of sins be not attributed unto them; thirdly, that the Church be not troubled with their multitude; fourthly, that they be not decreed as necessary, and not to be al­tered; fifthly, that men be not so tied to them, but that by occasion they [Page 39]may be omitted, so it be without of­fence and contempt.

Externall ceremonies of piety, and complements of devotion, may be well found with falshood in religion, they are a good shadow of truth, where it is, but where it is not they are the very body of Hypocrisie.

In the 21. yeaar of Richard the se­cond, Cheshire was made a principali­ty.

In children there are often presages of vertues and vices.

Armies and Navies are not so strong defences, and rampiers of a Princes e­state, as the multitude of children-Friends with time and fortune, some­time by unadvised desires or oversights, decrease, and fal away from us and fade, whereas a mans own blood cleaveth fast, and cannot be dis-joyned, especial­ly in Princes, whose prosperity as well may others enjoy, but their adversity toucheth none so neer, but their neerest in blood. And how should brethren a­gree, if they have not an example from their father?

Children are the living goods of their parents, and therefore must waite up­on the bestowing of their owners.

Such children as dispose of them­selves without their parents, they do wilfully unchild themselvs, and change natural affection for violent.

As it becomes not children to be for­ward in their choyce, so parents may not be too peremtory in their denial; it is not safe for children to over-run parents in setling their actions, nor for parents (where the inpediments be not very materiall) to come short of their children, when the affections are once setled the one is disobedience, the other may be tyranny.

Children do easily learn to contemn the poverty of their own parents.

Reverence and loving respects of children to parents, never yet went a­way unrecompenced; God will surely raise up friends amongst strangers to those that have been officions at home.

The propagation of children belongs to the glory of marriage, and not to the punishment of sin.

The fountain and root of all good­ness and honesty, is the good education and training up of our children in their tender age.

Children are bound to obey their parents if they be good; if bad to for­beare them; however to reverence them.

As it is good for a man to have an e­nemy, so it shall be our wisdom to make use of his most cholerick objecti­ons; the worst of an enemy may prove most soveraine to our selves.

Choller is hot and dry, bitter begot­ten of the hotter part of the Chilus, and gathered to the gall, it helps the natu­rall heat, and sences, and serves to the expelling of excrements.

It was necessary for Christ the Medi­ator between God and man, to have a temporal mortality, and an eternal beatitude; to have correspondency with mortals by the first, and to transfer them by eternity by the second.

The dignity of Christs person being infinite, gave such worth to his satis­faction, that what he suffered in short time, was proportionable to what [Page 42]we should have suffered beyond all time.

Christ his man-hood, is the churches head, his God-head is the life and soul of it.

It were impossible the Nations should desire Christ to come in his glorious power to judge the world (as we see they do) unless they had been first u­nited in their true beleife upon him, when he came in humility to suffer.

Christs sufferings and his life, hath not only left us the vertue of the Sa­craments but his example, whereby to direct our selves in all our courses.

God the father in his personall pre­sence, will judge no man, but hath gi­ven all judgement unto his sonn, who shall shew himself as man to judge the world, even as he shewed himself man, to be judged of the World.

When our Saviour asked his Disci­ples, Whom say men that I am? Peter an­swered, thou art the Christ, &c. to whom Christ replied, thou art Petes, and upon this rock will I build my Church, &c. meaning not so much upon the person of Peter, as upon Peters confession.

Lucius King of England, and Donald King of Scotland, cotemporary Kings in this Island, received the christian faith Anno Christi 203. Christianity is of power to discover the Devills subtil­ty, and delight in deluding ignorant men.

Christianity gives not rules but pow­er to avoyd anger.

Philippus Vostrencis was the first Em­perour of Rome that professed Christi­anity.

He is no Christian whose saith is not as sure as his sence.

The thoughts of death in a Christian, are but the throes of the soul to a new birth, for the second life; for then chiefly a Christian begins to live, when he is thought worthy to die in Christ.

A City taken by force, is alwayes subject to the Souldiers fury, but if sur­rendered by composition, the Com­manders are benefited by their corrup­tion.

A City is nothing else but a multi­tude of men, combined in one band of society.

That City is but in an in condition, the riches whereof consists in some par­ticulars, and not in the publique.

In the 22 year of Henry the second, in a Parliament held at Northampton, Justices Itenerants were instituted to ride the Circuits; the Realm was divi­ded into six Circuits, and three Judges to every Circuit.

In the 23. year of Henry the 8. the Clergy of England did grant to the King 00000 l. pounds to be good to them, because they were within compass to be attainted by the Statute of Premuni­re, for maintaining Cardinall Woolsyes power Legantine; they also at the same time acknowledg'd, & confess'd the King to be supream head of the Church, which they would never assent unto before.

The opinion of Clemency is need­full, in those which are to sound a new Empire.

Far be the Sword from the hand of Princes; Clemency, not cruelty, enfor­ceth mens hearts, the latter us'd against, or alone, begets the hatred of a thou­sand; the former is not used with­out [Page 45]the addition of friends.

Private Cogitations, have their pro­gress of such a condition, that they may take neither more or less of for­tune; but those which have raised their thoughts to sublimity of dominion, a re no more in their own power, having no means to step upon between the highest of all and precipitation.

The Cogitations of the heart, fly swiftly through the intrinsicall middle of our life, and leave behind in our memory such impressions of our lusts, passions, wrongs, and sufferings, that we make work enough in our minds to cover us all over with misery.

The intermission of comforts hath this advantage, that it sweetens our de­light more in our return, then it was abated in the forbearance.

Comfort shall come unseasonably to that heart, which is not apprehensive of sorrow.

A mans comfort must be in him­self, the conscience of deserving well.

The best things are but burthens to those that have them, & to those that use them; the worst things have some [Page 46]mixtures of comfort to those that groan under them.

A private commodity ought to yeild to a publique benefit.

No Common-Wealth can stand with­out equity.

As the Common-Wealth is but one body, so it ought to be governed but by one head.

It is a sign of a corrupt Common­Wealth, where lawes are multiplied upon lawes.

The riches of a Common-Wealth are either natural or artificiall; natu­ral good lands, rich mines, &c. Ar­tificiall are manufactures, &c.

The definition of a Common-Wealth, is the estate of the people, Res-publica quasi res populi.

A Kingdom is the government by one; a Common-Wealth by many.

A Prince kept within bounds, a Peo­ple not corrupted, and an humble No­bility, is an excellent composition for a lasting Common-Wealth.

A Common-Wealth is a lawfull go­vernment of many families, and so that which unto them belongeth in com­mon, [Page 47]with a puissant Soveraignty.

For as much as the wel-fare of pri­vate men, and all the goods of the Sub­jects are contained in the health of our Country; it beseemeth private men without grudgeing, to forgive unto the Common-Weale, not only their private injuries received from their e­nemies, but to yeild also their goods for the benefit of the Common-Weale; there is three sorts of Common-Weales: Monarchy, Democracy, A­ristocracy.

The Common-Wealth containes each private mans estate, and a part must be put to hazard for the preservation of the whole.

Common-sence is the judge over all the sences corporall, or a thing that is universally inherent; as for the mo­ther to love the child; and natures community are those generall inclina­tions which are in all men.

A Commissioner is a publique per­son, but with an extraordinary charge to him limited without Law, by vertue of Commission only.

He leaves mens minds apt to commo­tions, who takes not from them all means of defence.

Tell me with what company dost thou converse,)
And streight I will thy deeds re­hearse.)

Pitty is a compassion in our own hearts, of another mans misfortune, urging us, as far as our power stretch­eth, to relieve him.

Complaints are long muttered of the great, ere they do break forth to o­pen contestation; Publique accusati­ons of authority, argues intolerable extremities of evil.

Comparisons ought not to be taken precisely, but in resmblance; they are not of equality, but of quality.

Peace and composition is for the glo­ry of the Conquerours, and for the uti­lity of the Conquered.

Pope Innocent the third who was also called Nocentissimus: was the first that brought in Auricular confession, and he was the first also that denyed the Wine in the-communion to be admi­nistred to the Layety; he also ordain­ed [Page 49]that a Bell and a Candle should be carried before the Sacrament to the sick.

Sins are so much the greater as they are more common, so far is evil from being extinuated by the multitude of the guilty, that nothing can more ag­gravate it with men; community may plead for favour, with God for judge­ment.

The rareness of Christian Commu­nication argues poverty of grace.

The Custom of giving Lisence or Conducts for Passage, was first begun in the 6, year of William the Conquerour, who prohibited the Subjects going be­yond the Seas, but by Lisence.

He that will cast a stone at an offen­der, must be free himself, otherwise he condemns and executes himself in ano­ther mans person; the conscience stops the mouth of the guilty man, & choakes him with that sin which lyes in his own brest, and having not come forth by a penetent confession, connot find the way out in a reproofe, or if he do re­prove, he doth more shame himself then reform another.

Natures power is such, that a Wo­man having once conceived, cannot se­cond any conception, untill shee be delivered of the first; it is the same in all other Creatures, except the Hare, and the Conney, which only conceive double upon the first concep­tion, and having young in their bel­lyes will conceive a fresh.

The Splendor of wit, as of all things else, are often spoyled by too great a confidence of it self: Nothing but innocencie and knowledge can give a found confidence to the heart.

Confession of our sins doth no less honour God, then his glory is ble­mished by their commission; where an act cannot be reversed, there is no bet­ter amends then confession.

Gods judgements are the rack of Godless men, if one strain make them not confess, let them be stretched but one wrench higher, and they cannot be silent; the just avenger of sin will not loose the glory of his executions, but will have men know from whom they smart.

Men had rather die then endure tor­ture, therefore extorted confession cannot be good.

It is both lawfull and fit in things not prohibited, to conform our selves to the manners and rights of those with whom we live.

The same day fotty years, after En­gland was conquered by William the father, was Normandi conquered by William Rufus the Son, it being the 27th. of September, 1106.

A Conquest draweth to it the altera­tion of these three things, viz. Appa­rell, Law, and Language. Conquest is confirmed by continuing possessi­on.

The price and honour of a Conquest is rated by the difficulty.

A Prince that hath conquered, and joyned a strange Country to his domi­ons, ought to be circumspect what Governors he placeth there.

Conduction is that which is sooner overcome and altered, by that which it nourisheth; and Crudity is that which is strong and hard, and will not suffer it self to be altered.

A short conclusion of long premisses best befits the memory.

Henry the eight in the 38th. year of his Raign, by his Letter commanded the Lord Gray not to demolish Cattil­lions Fort, but in secret gives him a spe­cial command to ruine it.

Contraries are known by one me­thod, and the privative is known on­ly by seperation of the knowledge of the positive.

Contraries are two opposites of one kind, as black and white both colours, moist and dry both qualities, but sub­stances have no contraries in them­selves.

There be two enemies of peace; first, conscience of evil done, secondly sence of fear of evil suffered; the first we call sin, the latter crosses.

A wide conscience will swallow any sin, those that have once thralled them­selves to a known evil, will make no difference of sins, but by their own loss or advantage wickedness once en­tertained, can put on any shape; trust him in nothing that makes no consci­ence of every thing.

Many times the conscience runs a way smoothlywith an unwarrantable a­ction, & rests it self upon those grounds, which afterward it sees cause to con­demn; it is a sure way therefore to in­form our selves throughly, ere we set­tle our choice, that we be not driven to reverse our acts, with late shame and unprofitable repentance.

Such as make conscience of sinning, are carefull not to be thought to sin.

A good conscience is no less afraid of a scandall, then of a sin, whereas those that are resolved not to make any scruple of sin, despise others con­structions, not caring whom they of­fend, so they may please themselves.

Those which have a cleer conscience from any sin, prosecute it with rigour, whereas the guilty are ever partiall; their conscience holds their hands, and tells them that they be at themselves while they punish others.

The conscience may well rest, when it tells us we have neglected no means for redressing our afflictions, for then it may resolve to look either for amend­ment or patience.

A good conscience will make a man undauntedly confident, and dare put him upon any tryall; when his own heart strikes him not, it bids him chal­lenge all the world, and take up all comers. Contrarily, he that hath a false and soul conscience, lyes at every mans mercy, lives slavishly, and is fain to daub up a rotten peice with the basest conditions.

Conscience is the conserver of reli­gion; it is the light of knowledge that God hath planted in man, which is ever watching over all his actions; & as it beareth him a joyfull testimony, when he doth right, so it curbeth him with a feeling that he hath done wrong, when ever he commiteth any sin.

Conscience not grounded upon any sure knowledge, is either an ignorant fantasie, or an arrogant vanity.

The conscience is a conservation of the knowledg of the Law of God, and Nature to know good and evil; The conscience is that which approves good or evil, justifying or condemning our actions.

The greatest bliss on earth is a pure conscience. Nil conscire sibi nulla pa­lescere culpa.

There is no sin but vexeth him in whom it is; the first revenge is, that no man is quit from his own guilty con­science: There is least danger and most safety, when mens consciences do make conclusions for and against themselves.

No man can wash his hands of that sin, to which his will hath consented; bodily violence may be in-offensive in the patient, voluntary inclination (through fear) to evil, can never be ex­cusable.

Sin is the off-spring of the will, not of the body; where consent is not, there is no sin.

A constitution is a gathering and u­niting of the people together, both in one Common-Weale and Church, into a civill or divine Politie; the forme of which politie is, Order.

In Anno 682: Agathus commanded that the constitutions of the chief Bi­shop should be holden for Apostollicall.

The church of St. Saviour in the raigne of Crathlint, founded in the Isle of Man, was the first Bishops-See that was erected in Scotland, & three-upon is esteemed the mother-church; churces are not now constituted but re­paired.

If the church cast not out the known­unworthy, the sin is hirs; but if a man will come unworthily, the sin is his: No Element but through its mixture hath departed from its first simplicity; so there is no church but hath some error or sin in it.

The naturall sicknesses, that have ever troubled, and been the decay of all churches since the beginning of the World, changing the Candlestick from one to another, have been pride, ambiti­on, and avarice.

We must be directed by the Church; but then the Church must be directed by the right rule, the Scripture; But if any Church (as Rome) shall tell the rest any thing, that will notly even, to that rule, we may lawfully dissent.

The fittest place for prayer is the church, and among the congregation, [Page 57]especially if the petition be for pub­like graces, and benefits, and not in places of seperation, or faction in pri­vate conventicles.

The church keeps a feast on no Saints birth day, except the birth day of Saint John the Baptist.

The church is but one body, yet the several members of it rest in divers pla­ces, and are dispersed into several con­gregations, which of themselves are called churches, though they be alto­gether indeed but one church, as Saint John in the Revelation writes to the seaen churches, yet they were all but one church in seven parts.

Lingering is a kind of constancy; sud­denness argues fear.

Consultation is concerning things that vary and alter, and medleth not with those things that be firm and sta­ble.

The Bread and Wine by consecrati­on, cease to be common Bread and Wine, being dedicated to a sacred use, and so the Bread and Wine are made holy ceasing to be common; such a change as this understood, the fathers [Page 58]to be made in the Bread and Wine, but not as touching the substance and be­ing; but as touching the qualities, this change the reformed allow, and by such a change confess, that the Bread and Wine are made Sacraments, which effectually by the vertue of the holy spi­rit, do signifie, present, seale, and give unto us as touching the soul, by the means of faith, the body and blood of the Lord.

Occasion of contention may be gi­ven to those that will contend, when he concerning whom it is, himself is not contentions.

Continencie in Clergie men, is not of the substance of their order, nor appointed by the law of God: Con­tinency is when reason ruleth concu­pisence.

Content lyes not in the things we possesse, but in the mind that values them.

Content is a rare blessing, because it arises either from a fruition of all com­forts, or a not-desireing of some which we have not.

God knowes how to disperse his fa­vours so, that every man may have cause both of thankfullness & humiliati­on; while there is no one that hath al, no one but hath some; if envy and con­tempt were not thus equally tempered, some would be over-haughty, & others too miserable; but now every man sees in himself that which is worthy of con­tempt, and matter of emulation in o­thers, and contrarily sees what to pit­ty and mislike in the most eminent, and what to applaud in himself, and out of this contrariety arises a sweet mean of contentation.

Mis-observancy differs from contempt; the one reflects upon the institution, the other upon the institutor; he who covertly transgresses the Laws, leaves the reputation of him that made them untoucht; he who openly offends a­gainst them, aimes more to weaken the Prince then the Laws; errors which are occasioned by whatsoever o­ther affection, may be great or little; those which are occasioned by con­tempt, are Gyant-like.

Frandulent conventions bind not.

Seven or eight persons assembled to­gether, made a conventicle, and were prohibited first by act of Parliament in the fifth year of Richard the se­cond.

The partiall conversion of men to God, is but hatefull hypocrisy.

There are some men that take no heed what hapneth to others by bad conversation, and therefore over­throw themselves in the same man­ner through the same fault, not foresee­ing dangers manifest.

The direction and correction of a fault ought to be in secret.

It must be strong evidence, that will make a sinner convict himself; Nature hath so many shifts to cosen it self in a spirituall verdict, that unless it be taken in the manner it will hardly yield to a truth, either she will deny the fact or the fault, or the measure.

Henry the sixth in the tenth year of his Raign, was Crowned the 17th. day of December King of France, in the City of Paris.

Our naturall courage cannot bear us out against spirituall objects; There is nothing more easie then to be valiant when no peril appeareth, but when e­vils assail us upon unequal tearms, it is hard & commendable not to be dismay­ed.

Much is in a mans courage and dis­creat carriage of himself.

All private considerations, must be extinguished when the question is of the good of a mans Country.

The covetous man in all things doth affect secresie, and propriety.

Govetousness and riot, dissolve the bonds of all respect, our will ever car­rying us from our selves, from all awe­fulness and fear of lawes: covetous­ness and pride are impatient of loss.

Cruelty is seldom without avarice, by which if it be not caused, it causeth it.

In the 4. year of William the Con­queror, he instituted the courts of Chancery and Exchequer, and appoin­ted the Jury of r2. men to go upon causes criminall, and to deside contro­versies. At the same time he appoin­ted [Page 62]four terms to be kept in the year, at such places as he should nominate; al­so he constituted Sheriffs over every County.

In the 19th year of Henry the seventh, the Court of Star-Chamber was erect­ed, to punish such as offended against penal lawes; which Court made in­formers and promoters to swarme and abound.

In the raign of Henry the third, one William of York Rishop of Salisbury, was he that caused the custom to be re­ceived for a law, whereby the tenants of every Lord-ship are bound to do sute & service to their Lord on whom they hold their land.

The Star-Chamber, Chancery, and court of Request, have power in crimi­nall cases to give oathes to the Defen­dant.

Princes ears and eyes are in every place, courts being full of spies and no­thing is hid from emulation. Court­carriages are riddles; which though seen cannot be resolved without exceeding patience, and judging experience.

The Court is a common Inne for flatterers, time-servers and polititions, and the Courtiers life is a Gally-maufry of pride, lust, ambition, fraud, imposture, dissimulation, distraction, and envy.

A common counsel in Henry the sixth his time, at first in London consisted of 180 persons.

Counsel ought not to be held holly but secret also; therefore the Alter of the God Consus who was God of coun­sels was hidden in the earth.

Counsel given shews what we should do, and not what we can do.

Generall Councils may erre, and have erred.

Against greif it is as hard to chuse the season to give counsel, as to give it; the season should be after the first dis­gestion of sorrow, and before the last.

All councils us well in publique, as private deliberations; require a reposed spirit free from wrath, and fear; all perturbations, or particular interest, for as a troubled mind is more apt to erre then to advise justly, and hath more need of proper medicines for it [Page 64]self, then it hath in it self to apply any comfort to others, and is fitter to re­ceive, then to give counsell; from which as from a great and violent cur­rant are carried al those errors and dis­orders, which are brought upon ma­ture deliberations, the which have com­monly long repentances, and disasters; but he that can restrain himself from being transported by intemperate ap­petites, and can rule his passions, and give a just rule to himself and to his de­sires, doth give the best time to all de­liberations by mitigating heat and fury, so altereth all counsel from that nature which is received from an un­quiet and troubled mind.

No wise men can hold good counsel disparaged by the means of the Author; if we be glad to receive any treasure from a servant, why not precious ad­monitions?

Those that can least act, are oft times best to give counsel.

Particular discontents and greivan­ces, are either of the mind, the body, or fortune, which as they wound the soul of man, produce many inconveniencies; [Page 65]but Drunkenness utterly subverteth the same, and astonisheth the body.

The perpetual custom of Drinking, grows by using it into a perpetual plea­sure, stirring up the desire of the palate, which is ever afterwards either over­flown, or thirsty.

The Drunkards stile begins in lawles­ness, proceeds in unprofitableness, ends in misery, and all shuts up in the deno­mination of this Pedigree, A Son of Be­lial.

Drunkenness is a communicative Vice, and requires the emulation of Companions, wherein they strive for vi­ctory.

In Drink men discover their Disposi­tions, which they dissemble being so­ber.

In the sixth year of Richard the se­cond, Dunkirk was taken and spoyled by the English, Hugh Spencer Bishop of Norwich, being General.

All Duels are unlawful, in that they (as it were) commit the quarrel to the [...]ot, for the use of which, there is no warrant since the abrogating of the old Law, but it is most especially unlawful in [Page 66]the person of a King, who being a pub­like person, hath no power therefore to dispose of himself, in respect that his preservation or fall, the safety or wrack of the whole Common-wealth, is neces­sarily coupled, as the body to the head. He that enters a Duel, loses as much the opinion of Wisdom, as he gains the o­pinion of Daring.

Great is the force of Duty once con­ceived, even to the most unworthy.

The Eye and the Ear, are the minds Receivers; and the Tongue and the Hand, the Minds Expenditors.

Earthly things proffer themselves with importunity; Heavenly things must with importunity be sued for.

The Earth is our Mother that brought us forth, our Stage that bears us, and our Grave wherein we are intomb'd. So she gives us our Original, our Harbour, and our Sepulchre.

Gods Elect have three Sutes of Ap­pares viz. Black, (Mourning) Red, (Per­secution) White, (Glorious.)

Natural respects are the most dange­rous corrupters of all Elections; What hope can there be of worthy Superiors [Page 67]in any free people, where nearness of blood carries it from fitness of Disposi­tion?

In the year 885. Adrian the third be­ing Pope, the Emperors of Germany, who formerly elected to the Popedom, lost their Prerogative.

In the year 998. (in Pope Gregory the fifth's time) it was agreed that the Em­perors of Germany should be elected by three Bishops, viz. Mentz, Tryers, and Cullein; and by three Princes, viz. The County Palatine of the Rhine, the Duke of Saxony, and the Marquess of Bran­denburgh; and in case the said six cannot agree, then the King of Bohemia to have an umpiering Voice.

The reason why we pray Eastward, is because Paradise was there planted, from whence we were cast out: which is the reason also, that we build our Churches East and West; yet the Jews had their Priests, that in their Sacrifices alwayes turned their faces towards the West.

Education is another Nature, altering the Mind and Wit.

The beginning, midst, and end of man's life, lyeth onely in vertuous and [Page 68]honest Education, which is the very means that is opperative, and powerful for the attaining of Vertue and true Happiness.

There is none in the World so wicked­ly inclined, but a religious Instruction and Education may fashion a-new, and reform them; nor any so well disposed, (the Reins being let loose) whom the continual fellowship and familiarity, and the examples of dissolute men, may not corrupt and deform.

No Element, but through mixture, hath seperated from its first simplicity.

When the Ancients contended against each other, to perswade people to this, or that action, Eloquence had then her original.

Fame with Posterity, is the fairest re­ward of Eloquence.

Commonly the enmities of nearest Kinsfolks, if once they fall out, are most despiteful and deadly.

The difference between Enmity and Emulation, is thus; Enmity hunteth after destruction, and onely rejoiceth in that which bringeth our Adversary to [...]uine and utter destruction; but Emula­tion [Page 69](which is a spur to Vertue) con­tendeth only by well-deserving, to gain the advantage of another mans Fame, that useth the same means to attain the like ends, and is alwayes mixed with love, in regard of the affinity of their affections, and the sympathy of their desires, not suffering the overthrow of their Competitor, but succouring him in time of danger and calamity, that he may still continue to shew the greatness of his worth, by the opposition of in­ferior actions, which are as a lesser scantling of desert, to measure the esti­mation of the other humor.

The causes of the Roman Empire, were the Domestick Wars, the immode­rate greatness of the Princes of the Em­pire, and the Dignity of the Emperor, being Elective, and not Hereditary.

It is the dissolution of an Empire if the Revenues be diminished by which it is maintained, and if Customs be ta­ken away, the abolishing of Tribute wil be demanded.

In the second year of Henry the 4th the Emperor of Constantinople came into England, to request aid against the Turk.

In the fifth year of Henry the eighth, the Emperor of Germany, Maximilian, served under the Kings Banner, and did take pay.

Boniface the third, was the first that was called Pope, and he obtained of Phocas the Emperor, That the Roman Seat should be called the Head of all Churches. At that time three remarka­ble things happened, The decay of the Roman Empire; The rising of the Pope­dom; and, The springing up of Maho­metism; Of the ruine of the Empire, these two Beasts arose, which have much harmed the Church; and as the Empire hath decreased, these have en­creased.

All Philosophy teacheth us, That man desires an end, and that there is some end which every man tends to, beyond which he cannot think or hope.

In the 7th. year of Henry the fifth, by a General Councel holden at Con­stance, it was decreed, That England should have the Title of the English Na­tion, and to be taken and reputed one of the five Nations that obeyed the Roman See.

Common Enemies must first be op­posed, Domestick more at leisure.

That which open Enemies dare not attempt, they work by false Brethren, and are so much the more dangerous, as they are more intire.

A man ought to be jealous of what­soever an Enemy either by speech or a­ction shall cast upon him, however co­lourable the reasons may be which are alledged to induce him thereunto; for it is improbable that an Enemy (whose chiefest care is to weaken the Adversa­ry, and to bring him to ruine) should advise him to any thing that should con­cern his good, unless the profit which he himself shall thereby gather, do far exceed that which the contrary part may expect.

When a man's enemy offereth him that which hath appearance of good, let him refuse it.

God hath created nothing in this World; either man or Beast, without an Enemy to hold it in fear and humi­lity.

He that would undertake great En­terprises, had of Wisdom and Courage; [Page]Wisdom to contrive, and Courage to ex­ecute; Wisdom to guide his Courage, and Courage to second his Wisdom; both which if they meet with a good cause, it cannot but succeed.

Princes that desire to continue friend­ship, ought not to meet and have inter­views, to avoid suspition; but to hold correspondency by wise Councellors.

Envy hath this good in it, that it af­flicteth those extreamly that use it.

Envy proceeds from a base mind; Glo­ry follows good deserts; Envy follows Glory.

The envious man feeds upon others evils, and hath no other Disease but his Neighbours welfare.

It is the nature of man, and a deeply rooted quality in us, streightly to look into the prosperity of others with an envious eye, and to require a moderati­on of Fortune no where so much, as in those we have seen in equal degree with our selves.

It is a thing incident, and almost cer­tain to all mens natures, to behold with sore eyes the new grown felicity of o­thers, and to exact a sharp account of [Page]their Fortunes, especially whom they have seen inferior to, or equal with themselves.

Envy is curious, and out of the best person or act, will raise something to ca­val at.

It is a hard thing for a man willingly and gladly to see his Equals lifted over his head.

Nothing can more try a mans Grace, then question of Emulation.

That man hath true light, that can be content to be a Candle before the Lan­thorn of others.

Any Superiority is a mark of Envy.

Nature in every man is both envious and disdainful, and never loves to honor another, but where it may be an honor to it self.

Envy, though it take advantages of our weaknesses, yet is ever raised upon some grounds of happiness in them whom it emulateth; it is ever an ill effect of a good cause.

The malignity of Envy is thus well answered, When it is made the evil Effect of a good Cause.

Envy when it is once conceived in a malicious heart, is like fire in Billets of Juniper, which is said to continue more years then one.

Envy is nothing else, but sorrow for other mens good, be it present, past, or to come; and joy at other mens harms; opposite to mercy, which grieves at o­ther mens mischances; and mis-affects the body in another kind.

Every other sin hath some pleasure annexed to it, or will admit of an ex­cuse, Envy alone wants both. Other sins last but a while; the gut may be satisfi­ed, anger remits, hatred hath anend, but envy never ceaseth.

That man is wife, and well advised, that incurreth the envy of men, for matters of greatest weight and impor­tance.

Envy is nothing else, but grief for a­nother man's good, and joy for his ill, and hath his root from malice.

Envy (like poyson) works not where it finds no hurt.

He whose Fortune or Valour hath made him higher then others, let him not repose himself to eyes, if he will [Page 75]shun hands; otherwise he causeth envy in those who ought to be his Equals, be­cause he hath outstript them; fear in him who should be his Superior, because he equals him; Equality is the producer of Envy.

The mixture of greater and less is good; but that of Equals, stark naught.

The continuance of Error, doth in­graft depraved Opinions in the hearts of men.

Error is more tollerable in a Poet, then in a Historographer.

The Errors of one man is a slippery place to cause others to fall.

Error is commonly join'd with Cru­elty.

If Errors of practise should be stood upon, there could be no true Church upon Earth.

Every Error doth not pollute all Truths; No Truth can sanctifie all Er­rors.

Errors of judgement are more dan­gerous then Errors of practise; but none so deadly as their's that were once in the Truth.

Errors are never the elder for their patching; Corruption can do the same that age would do; We may make age as well as suffer it.

The best may err, but not persist in it. When good Natures have offended, they are never quiet till they have ha­stened a satisfaction.

There be two main defects of Wit, Error and Ignorance, to which all o­thers are reduced. By ignorance we know not things necessary; by Error we know them falsly. Ignorance is a privation, Error is a positive act; from Ignorance comes Vice, from Error, He­resie.

No man now a-days sheweth an Er­ror, and leaveth it, man-kind is not so wise.

The Errors of sloathfulness are best discerned when all diligence is boot­less.

They neglect their own Wisdom who without any judgement approve the in­vention of those that fore-went them, and suffer themselves (after the manner of brute Beasts) to be led by them.

It oft times hapneth, that an Error [Page 77]being once rashly committed through despair of remission, admitteth no true penitence, but either draweth on more grievous crimes, (Scelere scillus luendum est) or maintaineth his Error by wilful obstinacy.

It is an old Rule among Soldiers, that a great negligent Error committed by an Enemy, is to be suspected as a pre­tence to Treachery.

There is no Error but hath some ap­pearance of resembling Truth, which when men find out, they then publish to the World matter of contention and jangling, not doubting but in the varia­ble deformities of mens minds, to find out some Protectors or Spectators, the better by their help to nurse and cher­rish such Libels as their own inventions have begot.

Pride and Luxury are the attendants of prosperous Estates.

The smallest Estates are to be govern­ed with the greatest skill, as small Barks in the midst of the wide Ocean.

There is no Estate so pure or igno­ble, as can keep a man from Fame.

An Estate gotten by lend means, can­not be retained at first with sudden mo­desty, and ancient gravity.

The worst Estate out of Hell, hath ei­ther some comfort, or at least some mit­tigation.

The best Estate requires careful mena­ging at home.

To the overthrow of an Estate, of­tentimes the inconveniences concur, un­thankful Friends, decayed Friends, bad Neighbors, negligent Servants, Casual­ties, Taxes, Mults, Losses of Stock, En­mities, Emulations, frequent Mutations, Losses, Surety-ship, Sickness, Death of Friends, and that which is the worst of all, Improvidence, ill Husbandry, Dis­order, and Confusion, by which means we are drenched on sudden in our E­states, and unawares precipitated insen­sibly into an inextrecable Labyrinth of Cares, Woes, Wants, Grief, Discon­tent, and Meiancholly.

Essence is derived, ab ipso esse, to have a being.

All things have their value from our own estimation [...]

The most precious things that are, [Page 79]lose of their worth, if they be not su­ted with our correspondent Natures, whose sympathy addeth much more excellence then is discerned, when they approve by themselves without such assistance, as in the Diamond, the Foyle, and Gold.

It is never safe to measure Events by the power of the Instrument, nor in the Causes of God, to measure others by our selves.

In matters of judgement to be gui­ded onely by the Event, is the way to Error; so Falshood may be Truth.

We commonly measure and censure all actions by the Event.

One is crowned for that which ano­ther man is tormented for, as Caesar and Gracchus.

In future Events men look for help from Time and Fortune.

It oftentimes happens, that a prospe­rous Event makes foolish Counsel seem wiser then it was.

The Evil that is ever in motion, is not fearful.

That which both Time and Eternity finds standing where it was, is worthy of terror.

It is a rare Evil that hath not some­thing in it, to sweeten it either in sence or in hope

Evils and Sicknesses come on Horse­back, and go away on foot.

The best things ill used, become evil; and the worst things used well, prove good.

Good and Evil in the Government of men, hath this difference betweeen themselves, That Good, though it be brought forth by time, and though by our studies and industries it be maintai­ned, corrupteth notwithstanding, by degrees of it self, and of it self also ex­tinguisheth, as we may read and see in the succession and proceedings of all States, and of all Sects; the contrary of which appeareth in Evil, since it doth not waste by little and little, through the wearing of time, as good doth, but rather encreaseth to a more powerful validity, and by easie passages riseth to the extremity of declination.

FINIS.

The Contents of the Booke.

The first Chapter.

HOw Witt disguised himselfe in the habit of a Lawyer, and how by di­vers reasons he perswaded two Countri­men to desist, and leave off going to law with their Landlords: also how they gave Witt halfe a peece for his counsell, and how at last when the two Country­men were drunke, Witt stole away from them and left them, so that the Country­men having lost Witts company, were carried to the Counter, where Witt next morning came to them againe, and so af­ter they were released from thence, Witt parted from them. Also Witts description of a Taverne and a Country­man.

The second Chapter.

HOw Witt having left off his Law­yers Gowne, disguises himselfe in [Page]the habit of a Cittizen, and so keeping company with all sorts of people, hee observed and noted the natures and qualities of these professions, namely of a Carpenter, a Bricklayer, &c.

The Third Chapter.

HOw Witt in the habit of a Cittizen kept company still with Taylers, Bakers, Cookes, Smiths, Chandelers, Ioyners, Ostlers, Watermen and the like, of whose qualities and properties he maketh certaine briefe Descriptions.

Witts Tearme.

YOƲ two stand féeding of your Lawyer with fées, like two hedge sparrowes that féede the Cuckow, and pine your selves;Wits descri [...] ­tion of the Lavv.For I will descrive the Law unto you briefely and faithfully: yet so that I will not detract from the dignity of so honorable a studie. The Law is good in it selfe, and becomes evill only, when it is inherent in an evill man, Lex est Reg [...] ­plumbea.as good wine may bee corrupted by the ves­sell that containes it. It is like a young twigge, or a leaden ruler, which may be wrythed or bent any way: It is sharpe and severe, and considers onely what is iust, without regard of equity. The cases of the Law are infinite, and doe daily in­crease, for they are matters that have beene adiudged, and are now as it were the examples of the Law. A Bill in [Page]Law is a tedious narration or declarati­on of the clients cases, which is written in wide spreading hand to enlarge the Clarkes fees. That Action and Passion are two Predicaments of the law. That the motions are without motion, and as flow as the revolution of the Planet Sa­turne, [...]nnus Plato­ [...]cus or Pla­ [...]es yeare.for Plato told his Schollers that when this Planet had performed his na­turall and retrograde motion, that he and they should méete againe, and hee should reade unto them in that manner as hée did then. Besides, though this planet is now, yet still he goeth forward; but there are many waies to delay and protract the Courts and procéeding of the Law, as Iniunctions, Billes of Reveiw and the like. That the blame is laid upon the Lawyers, when the fault is in the Cli­ents, for if they would unfold their cases faithfully, the Lawyers would end their sutes more spéedily. That Aturneyes are like Andirons that hold up their Clients as the other doth the Billetts, untill they have consumed and wasted one another: In a word, the law is good in it selfe, for it makes badd men good, though sometime as I said by acci­dent [Page]it make good men badd. And to con­clude the Law is like a Laborinth, you may enter in, but it is hard to finde the way out againe; And therefore good friends having given you a briefe view or prospect into the Law, I would desire you to change your purpose & intention,Witt persvv [...] ­deth the tvv [...] Countryme [...] to live at Peaceand not to goe to law, for it is better to live securely at home, and to spend your time quietly among your neighbours, than to come up every Tearme to London with a great bagge or Boxe of writings at your girdle, when your selves doe under­stand néere a letter in the Hornebooke but Ho and O, or rather O Ho; and though I speake against my selfe being a Lawyer (for the world doth falsely im­magine that Lawyers doe strive to nou­rish the flame of contention) yet I will discharge a good conscience, and rather perswade men to live in amitie & frien­ship, than to contend in Law, and I doubt not but I shall get both love and money by it, and whi [...]e I make them friends, and reconcile them one to another, I hope they will prove my friends, howso­ever Conscientia est mille testes: the contentment and happinesse of a good [Page]conscience is farre more precious then the friendship of men: And therefore honest Countrymen, [...]itt playes [...]e honest avvyer.you sée that I have plaid the honest Lawyer, and laid open unto you the inconveniencies of going to law, so that I would advise you to agrée with your Landlord, submit your selfe unto him, live quietly among your neigh­bours, kéepe good houses, looke to your husbandry, seare God, honour the King, and doe good in your Country, so you shall live contentedly, and dye happily, for those that love peace, shall live in peace, toy, and felicity after this life is ended.

When the Country men had heard Witts discourse, truth like a thorne prickt them so to the heart, that they both confest that hee had told them more then ever they heard before; that one of them who had baene Constable of the Towne, and therefore could speake with some in­discretion began thus:

Sir, you have made such a rescription of going to law, & how unfit it is for us In­grant men to follow the law, so that wée intend to leave it off and follow the Plough, for our stomackes are now rea­sonably well allayd, and therefore we de­sire [Page]you accept of this halfe péece for your fée, for your counsell shall save us many a pound, and besides wee have a quart of wine for you if you please to goe to the Taverne. Witt thanked them, and told them that albeit it was not his usuall custome to be séene in Tavernes, especially not to tarry there long, yet hée would dispence with other affaires, to give them content,Witt and [...] two Count [...] ­men go to t [...] Taverne.and so Witt and the two Countrymen went to the Taverne together, but assoone as the drawer spide Witt, hee presently gave him the biene venu or welcome, & straightway brought him to one of the best roomes, and then he told him, that the night before there was like to have beene a bloody fray for lacke of your worshippes company, for as soone as you were gone, some beganne to commend you, and to say, that master Witt was as fine a merry a companion as any in Europe: others againe reply­ed that you were a foule companion, that would give distaste in all companies, and had rather loose your friend than your iest; and this was maintained and ar­gu'd pro and con, so that at length they had proved it by breaking one anothers [Page]heads with quart potts, if my Master had not moderated the matter, for assoone as you left them, they were quite gone. It is no wonder sayes Witt that they were gone in drinke assoone as I was gone from them, for I doe alwaies stay with my friends as long as I can, but when I perceive that the strength of the drinke beginnes to worke upon their braines, then I steale from them, so that I stay not untill the reckoning comes to be paid, whereupon they being in drinke, and wanting me to make the reckoning, doe often fall out and quarrell, either about that, or some other occasion. But to leave off this discourse, prethee drawer bring us a quart of rich canarie, for my selfe and my friends, such as I and the Witts drinke, if thou canst draw us a ruppe of Nectar, lets have it. Sir, saies the draw­er, you shall have of the best; for I should prove my selfe an ignoramus if I should bring you any but the best. Well (sayes Witt) fly then like a winged spirit to the bottom of the Seller and fetch it, and so exit drawer and drawes the curtaine lea­ving Witt and the Countrymen toge­ther, who began to discourse thus unto [Page]them:Ingeniumest pacisicum. Witt is a Peacemake [...]you sée (honest friends that I en­deavour to make peace wheresoever I come, for there is never any quarrelling in Tavernes or Alehouses if I be there, but assoone as I goe, then they fall out about the Arithmeticke of their recko­ning, or the wrong apprehension of some word, so that the mistaking of a word is many times taken amisse, and then they are so farre enrag'd, that in stead of other complements,The deseri [...] ­tion of a drunken qua [...] rell.they salute one anothers heads with quart pots, the glasses are broken, the tables overthrowne, the can­dles are extinguisht, and the Tobacco­pipes are throwne in one anothers faces, and thus their kindnesse (assoone as I for­sake their company) ends in a drunken quarrell. By this time they might heare the eccho of the drawers voyce, who cryd, score a quart of canary in the halfe moone, and no sooner had hee spoke those words but he came flying in, and having filled a glasse and delivered it to Witt, hee heard them knocke in another roome, so that he vanisht and left them.Witt drink a health to friends.And now being alone, Witt first dranke to the Countrymen with a complement, telling them that he would commemorate all his [Page]and their friends in the Countrey, both Gentlemen, Yeomen, and merry Vi­cars, & also his kind friends in the foure Innes of Court, and also in the two Vni­versities of Oxford and Cambridge, and in generall to all his friends vbicunque, or whersoever. The Countrymen replyed that they would pledge his worship with all their hearts. Nay (saies Witt) I be­séech you not to worship mée, for it is a title which I neither deserve, nor desire, though I have béene borne and brought up as a Gentleman, [...]tt respect­ [...] by Gentle­ [...] and [...]ights. [...] habet in­ [...]ium inimi­ [...] nisi igno­ [...]tem. [...]itt hath no [...]emy but ig­ [...]rance.and am respected both by Gentlemen and Knights, for I was well acquainted with Sir Phillip Sidney when he writ his Arcadia, and sir Iohn Harrington when hee composed his merry Epigrams; and indéede there is none accomplisht Gentleman that doth not desire my company, you must pardon me if I praise my selfe, for it is given to us that are the family of the Witts to bée selfe conceited, and to set too high a price on our gifts, but to set a period to my spéech, I drinke to you both most kind and honest countrymen, for to discover the truth unto you, I am no Lawyer; Law is too obtuse, and blunt a studie for [Page]me, for though I dissembled the matter my name is Witt, and I am as ioviall a companion as the best of them all,There is n [...] good socie [...] unlesse Wit [...] be in compa [...] ­ny.for indeede there is no good society or mirth without I be in company. Your Gal­lants will never visit a Taverne but they will carry mee with them, though they can not bring me backe againe, so that they are faine at night to goe to their Lodging without mee, but the next mor­ning I visite them againe with an early salutation; and then they give mee my mornings draught according to the time and season of the yéers. But I will not bee tedious in my discourse for I affect brevity, and is not this harmelesse mirth far better than to goe to Law, had not wee better drinke our selves, than to make the Lawyers and their Clarkes drinke wine upon our cost, and therefore good Countrymen I doe commend my love unto you in this glasse of wine. They both thanked him, and thus they continu­ed drinking, but as Mercury with the swéetnesse of his pipe did enchant Argus his hundred eyes, so Witt with pleasant discourses drew on the Countrymen into such a kinde and laving humour, that [Page]they began to drinke to Witt with such rurall Complements,Vinum, [...]nollit meres [...]o sinit esse [...]ors. [...]ine softmeth [...]r nature [...]d condition [...]nd giveth us [...]gentle dispo­ [...]ion.and dunstable be­haviour, so that Witt could not chuse but smile to sée how the wine did mollisie and soften their rude nature, insomuch that with great store of nonsence and countrey complements, they began to bée so over-kind to Witt, that they would néedes drinke his mistresses health, but Witt told them that hee honored no Mi­stresses but vertue, [...]o eate some [...]de modi­ [...]m when [...]u are drin­ [...]ag is the [...]y to make [...]tt stay in [...]ur companyand desired them not to prophane her name by any idle health, but Witts perswasions could not re­straine them from their troublesome kindnesse, so that in hope they should per­swade Witt to stay with them, they would needes have a Vice or two of a Gammon of Bacon, which was straight brought them with all expedition, and Witt stayed with them a while, but when they had done, [...]o much [...]nking [...]ds Witt [...]king.one of the Country­men would néedes have a quart of Sacke to drive downe their bacon, but this quart sent Witt packing, so that he slipt away from them, neither could they discerne how hee went away from them, for they were so blinde, that they immagined that Witt was still in their company, and [Page]the Drawer could not perswade them hée was gone, so that after Witt had left them hee was much troubled with these two countrey fellowes, for one of them by chance brake a venice glasse and would by no me anes be perswaded to pay for it, and the others stomack began to recoyle, so that hee cast up his reckonings in the chimney; but at last with much a doe, having got what they would of one of them for breaking the glasse, they thrust out these two Annimales out of the Ta­verne doore, where one of them reeled a­gainst the other, and both of them a last fell in the Kennell, but getting up againe they thought to go to Witts lodging to en quite of him what was the signe of the Iune where they lay,To two C [...] try men tal [...] by the Wat [...]but they were so drunke that they could not find his cham­ber; so that they fell into the Constables hands, and because they gave him tude words and churlish answers, hee carried them both to the Counter,Witt visite [...] them next morning in the Count [...]where they lay that night, but in the morning assoone as Witt understood that his friends were in the Counter he came again to them very early in the morning, and began to excuse himselfe for leaving them overnight: for [Page]sayes hee, when I sée men begin to grow idle in their drinke, and to call for more than will doe them good, then I cannot endure to stay with them any longer. And therefore because I have other af­faires, so that I kéepe you company any longer, I will give you some friendly ad­vice. [...]ts advise [...]he Coun­ [...]men at [...]ing.First, beware of geing to Law, least you pay for your expence when it is too late: shunne idle company, beware of Dice, Drabs, and Drunkennesse: En­ter not into Bond, make not your wives your masters, in company be merry and wise, consider of every action before hand what will follow afterward, cut your coate according to your cloath, estéeme not all offers of friendship, but mistrust faire words, kéepe money and make it your servant not your master, let not your friend know all your minde, but reserve a péece to thy self, for a friend may become a foe, moderate thy passions, governe thy self and then thou shalt be able to governe thy houshold and family: this is my counsell, and now I hope Witt hath proved him­self no pettifegger, but an honest lawyer, for I have given you my frée opinion concerning the Law, yet not disgracing [Page]that studie in any kinde, and I have shewed you the inconveniences which a­rise by contentions, suites, & have given you some brtefe notes of instruction. In a word I wish you both as well as my selfe, and if you love mee I wish you to leave of drunkennes, for I cannot indure it, it spoyles my braines, for albeit I can and doe keepe company with all sorts of men, yet I never stay with them till they are drunke, and (though I speake it in my owne behalfe) yet I can prove that I endeavour to restraine men from vains and idle courses, whereunto they doe often runne through their owne folly, I will therefore goe along with you from the Counter to the Iustices, and after hée hath discharged you, I will take my leave of you and commit you to the pro­tection of your owne good fortunes: And so after the Iustice had released them, Witt directed them the readiest way to their Inne, and so left them: And thus you sée how Witt got a fée of these two Country fellowes, and in slead of plea­ding for them, he perswaded them to live at peace, and leave off going to Law, which sheweth that if more had witt they [Page]would not be contentious: [...]itt & good [...]ellowship are [...]iends, but [...]itt & drun­ [...]iennesse are [...]es.and lastly you may behold how Witt and drunkenesse cannot agrée, for they are contraries, and contrara se mutuò expellunt, contraries doe one expell the other; for as water quenches fire, so drinkes downes and ex­tinguishes the witt. And Witts councell which he gavo the countrymen sheweth, that want of a fore-Witt brings woe; for anté cuvere debet, qui non dolebit, hée that would not fall into miserfe or want, must be wise beforehand: and so much concerning Witts first practise, his second practise followes, but to re­fresh the reader I will insert some verses, which Witt made by way of observation on a Taverne, and the nature and dispo­sition of a Countryman, which may serve as Charactericall discriptions of them both.

A Taverne.
A Taverne is a place which Bacchus traynē
Frequent, and drinke till wine doe them inflamē
It is a place where ancient friends doe shew
Their love; on this stage you may clearely view
Divers conceited humours which are plaid
By serveral companies, or it is the mint
Where Witt doth coyne his fancies, for a print
Of wine more readily inspires the braine
Then water though from Hellicon it came.
Some talke of forraine matters and wonders
Of a deepe apprehension, who have beene
Perhaps at Callis, while on a faire day
Their shipps through the calme seas did cut her w [...]
The Channells alwaies burne in stead of paper
To light Tobacco which is a rich vapour.
Heere loving friends with weeping eyes doe par [...]
While they expresse the affection of their heart
In a full cup, and with kind words commend
Themselves unto their loving absent friend.
It is a Chappell, where divers every day
At Bachus Alter pay, but doe not pray.
I doe not hate a Taverne nor the wine
Yet Ile shun expence, and wasting of my time.
In such a place, I doe allow the use
Of both, but disapprove their foule abuse.
Drinke in a Taverne for thy recreation
[...]ut dwell not there, nor makt thy habitation.
[...]r a Taverne is a place where men nere cease
[...] keepe a Leaguer in the times of peace.
A Countryman.
A Countryman is blunt in spaech and action
Yet he is given much to suites and faction.
[...]e doth not cheate his friend with the smoth art
[...]f flattering words, but speaks even from his heart.
[...]is countenance is cheerefull; and his cloathes
[...]laine like his meaning, nor with swaggering oaths
[...]oth pay his debts, nor make his trembling host
Glad to write downe his reckoning on a post.
[...]is conscience is free, and he doth wonder
[...]hy guiltie men doe feare a clap of thunder.
[...]s bloody Nero who would hide his head
[...]hen it did thunder underneath a bed.
Content is, his chiefe riches and his wealth;
[...]hile the fresh ayre doth keepe him in good health.
His life is harmelesse, striving not to gaine
Ambitious honour, or to purchase fame.
[...]he sight of a milch cow or a greene field
Doe please him highly, and much solace yeeld.
Into his minde, while he doth plodding goe
[...]lad in course russet, which doth plainely show
How little he esteemes of pride, or fashions
Which are brought over out of forraine nations:
And when pale death commands him to resigne
His life, then doth his resolution shine
Even like the Sunne, whose glistering beames a pea [...]
When it is going downe most bright, and cleare.
He does repose small trust in the Physitian
In his sicknesse, for it is his chiefe ambition
To preferre his soule, that it may mount the ksies [...]
And have a place in heaven when he dyes.

Chap. 2. How Witt having put off his Lawyers Gowne, disguised himselfe in the habit of a Citizen, and so keeping company with all sorts of people, hee observed and noted their Persons, their humours, qualities, and fa­shions, of which he makes certaine briefe dis­criptions.

WHen Witt was delivered from the company of those two country fellowes,Witt disgu [...] himselfe [...] a Citizen.whō he perswaded before to live in peace and amity with their neighbours and Landlord, hee left off playing Ignoramus in his Lawyers Gowne, and disguised himselfe in the ha­bit of a Citizen, that thereby hee might [Page]without suspicion converse, and kéepe company with all sorts of people, and observe their humours, and fashions. And in stead of being togatus a gowned man, he became civis penulatus, a cloaked Citizen, yet not like one of the supertour rancke of Citizens, but one of the inferior sort, being thus very neately apparelled in a cloake, and stockings and shwes, sometimes Witt wonld weare a Ruler by his side, and then hee was supposed to be a Carpenter, Bricklayer, or Plasterer, sometimes he would have a hammer un­der his girdle, and then he was taken for a Smith or Vpholsterer, or a Peuterer, or some other Hammer man, sometimes he would have a Parchment measure in his pocket, or some patterne to cut out by, and then hee went for a Taylor, some­times he would put on a gréene wastcoate and sprinckle his face with meale, and then hée was supposed to bee a Miller, a Mealeman, or a Baker: sometimes he would blacke his fingers with shooma­kers war, and weare a Shoomakers thimble ou his finger, and then he was thought to bée a Shoomaker or a Cob­ler. Sometimes he would get on a frock, [Page]and then hee was a Porter. And some­times hee would put on a Watermans Iacket, and then he was a Sculler. And to conclude Witt by the helpe of his friend the broaker would shift & change himselfe into all shapes and habits, and so conversing and kéeping company with all sorts of people, hee could not chuse but have matter enough for his observation, which was that which hee destr'd, for the end and scope of his intention was to ob­serve and take notise of the fashions and carriages of the cittie, especially in the Terme time, for hee knew that the body politicke was then most full of humours, whereupon Witt being thus disguised in the habit of a Citizen, and having a Carpenters Ruler by his side, hée went forth into the Cittie, to sée whe­the blind Fortune would conduct him, intending as I said in a merry manner to practise on the ignorance,Witts seco­practise.and weake­nesse of the People, and so walking through the Cittie as Diogenes did through Athens with Candle and lan­thorne, hee changed at last to passe by the red lattice of an Alehouse, where it seemes the strong drinke began to work [Page]in their braines, so that they were sin­ging merry catches, and roaring like Bulles of Basan, so that Witt looking up, and perceiving it was the signe of the Anchor, hee thought to cast Ankor héere a while. And so comming in hée found these were the Alehouse quiristers, whose voyers hee had heard, namely, two Carp [...]nters, a stone cutter, a brick­layer and the host of the house, whereup­on Witt calling for a full pot or double pot of Ale presently insinuated himselfe into their company, and having a ruler under his girdle, one of them asked him of what profession hee was: Witt an­swered that he was aedificiorum vel do­muum Fabricator, that is in b [...]iefe, hee was a Carpenter: whereupon the two other Carpenters told him that hee was the more welcome, and likewise the stone-cutter, the bricklayer and the host, did all bid him welcome, and having dranke to him with some drunken com­plement, one of them who had got the hickocke would néedes tell him a very serious story, but Witt put him out by drinking unto him, so that hee assoone as hee had pledg'd him, was faine to goe [Page]forth and utter his minde in the yard,The humou [...] of a Drunk [...] ­ard.where he had no audience, but a few old tubbes and other rubbigge which stood there. But at last hee comes in againe, like a drunken Penitent, while sinne and drunkennesse did even enforce him to wéepe for sinne, for his eyes were full of water, which he wiped with his hand­kercher, and then hee set himselfe fresh­ly to drinking and began a catch, while some of the rest boare their parts; so that Witt thought it a hellish harmony, for he could not rellish such vulgar stuffe, and therefore hee busied himselfe with taking a pipe of Tobacco, which hee thought was a more gentile musicke than their rude voyces.Wits medita­tion on a [...] Alehouse.And while hée was taking his Tobacco hee drew these meditations which hee kept in memory untill hee had opportunity to write them downe in his table-booke. His first meditation was, that these Alehouses were the Chappells of ease, and idlenes, whether those de media & in fima plebe, that is, those of the midle and lowest rancke of common people doe frequent. That their mirth heere, is divided into two sorts, either scoffing, iéering [Page]iests, or obscene bawdy iests. That the host loves money without your company, but hee loves not your company without money. That singing is there musticke whereas they keepe no eyme, for when their heads are full of Crotchetts, they will sitt up u [...]till twelve a clocke sing­ing catches. That the drinking roomes are Cupids closets, where they conspire, and agrée about midnight matches. That drunkennesse becomes a Carpen­ter or a Ioyner better then a Gentle­man, who should not onely know vertue, but live vertuously, or else hee deserves to be degraded of that title. That drinke is a strange disguise, for it makes a man so blinde that he does not know himselfe, nor where he is, nor what he doth. That Alehouses shotts among the common people never wound the purse much, for the thorte scatters among the whole com­pany. That drunkards when they have least Witt, thinke themselve most wise. That it is no good place to chuse a friend, for they will bee kinde in their drinke, and the next day bee ready to cut your throat. That they will sweare here like fréeholders, that is as long as [Page]they are freeholders of the Alehouse. That they will talke nonsense ex tempo­re, and quarrell about any ocasion, and for one word they will give you a hun­dred words. That héere is great puf­fing and blowing, especially, when the Tobacco pipes are lighted, and then their actions may bee divided into soure sorts, Drinking, discoursesing, smoking, spit­ting, and their passions are divided into foure more, quarrelling, complementing, singing, and paying the reckening, the last whereof, namely, the passion of pay­ing the reckoning is the worst, for it is accompanied alwaies with a Delerium or swimming of the head. That men commonly loose foure things, and some­times a fifth, by frequenting Alehou­ses, viz. They loose their time, their money, their credit, and their sences, and I feare their soules. That it is a house that hath many Inmates, and yet the Statute takes no hold of them, for they are but Tennants at will, so that when they have payed their rent, (which is too deare a rent for a drinking roome, they may leabe it to the host, who straight letts it out to the next company that [Page]comes, and thus severall reckonings doe pay the Hosts rent, who might bee a Lord of a Towne for hee hath more Te­nants than the best of them, but his rent is not payd quarterly or yearely, but day­ly and hourely, and if a man be too long a Tenant to any of his roomes, and spend little, he will put him out by a Ha­beas corpus, and desire him to give place to some company that desire that roome, when indeede hee desires to have his roome in stead of his company. In a word, an Alehouse is a place where much time, much mony, many words, much Tobacco, much paper, much drinke are spent, and cast away, and in stead thereof there is nothing gotten, or lent, but losse of time, poverty and beg­gery, a profane custome of swearing, idle tobacco taking,The descrip­tion of a Car­penter.and a head full of drinke. And that Carpenters are ho­nest fellowes, which though they live by the square, the rule, and the compasse, yet they neither live within rule, squre, or compasse. That they know how to fa­shion the Timber for the fabricke of a building, and they cannot endure brick-building because it hath little timber-worke. [Page]That their children are Chipps of the old Blocke. That in sawing of Timber hée that stands above is like the Client, & he that stands below is like the Lawyer, for the dust falles down to him. That Bricklayers are morterfied men,The descrip­tion of a Brick layer.though they are sometimes troubled with their stones before they can tell how to lay them. That their pendicular line or plummet line, keepes their worke e­ven and straight, and by the helpe of this weake line, they make strong worke. That they are honest plain dealing men, and yet they have cunning in dawbing. That some times they climbe too high that they catch a fall, and so many tymes doe put their bost ionts to the hazzard. That they may keepe a good table at home, but when they are abroad their morter is served up to them in Trayes. They place brickes in the wall, as Poets doe words in their verses, that is in a smooth and even manner. Their worke is the Emblem of Hppocrisie, for they can white over a mudd wall and make it séeme very faire outwardly, when underneath it is nothing but rotten lathes and loame. That when the [Page]Tower of Babell was built, there was surely a great company of Bricklayers. That an Hoast is an under Landlord,The descrip­tion of an Hoast.or petty Landlord of some Alehouse. That his nose is richer than the Rockes in China, and is full of carbuncles and redd Rubies, so that hee may goe to bed by the light of it, for if hee follow his Nose it will guid him to his Chamber. That he it every mans companion, but no mans freind. That his discourse is frothie as his drinke. That hee is Baccus Stan­dardbearer, and carryes his culloures in his face, lastly he may be an honest man, but yet he must néedes wincke at Sinne and drunkennesse, though hee take a nap for the tyme, or else hee will dye a Beg­ger. Witt having frained these medi­tations in his braine, purposed afterward to collect them into some forme, and set them downe in writing, so that percei­ving that the company was very farre spent in drinke, so that the two Carpen­ters sung very woddenly, and the Brick­layer layd up his minde there before them all; and the stone cutter was cut in the legge, and the Host had got the foxes skinne over his head in stead of a [Page]night-cap: When Witt I say percei­ved that they were all gone in drinke, then Witt was presently gone too,Witt leaves & loathes the company of drunkennessefor hee slunke away, and as soone as Witt was gone, the Carpenters fell to quar­relling about their trades, & one of them pretended that he was more skilfull than the other, so that they fell to hot arguing and disppuation about the making of a paire of Gemetricall stayres; the stone-cutter who had got the Hickock endeavo­red to reconcise them, wishing them to leave of that discourse, and the host thinking to have fetcht another Iugge of beare, fell over a Ioyne stoole, and broke his shinnes very sorely, and after­ward he fell asséepe with the tappe in his hand, while all the drinke ranne about the seller, for as long as Witt is in com­pany men doe carry themselves with some discretion, but assoone as he leaves them, then divers sorts of follies are committed,After folly is committed, Witt returnes in the mor­ning, and brings Repen­tance with him.and sundry mischefes doe ensue, But next morning Witte came to them againe, (for his custome is, that though he forsake his friends for a time yet hee will come againe) so I say Witt next morning came to them, and brought [Page]with him one of his déere companions called repentance, and they two so farre prevailed over these drunkards by their perswasions, that at last they resolved to forsake that detestable vice; And Witt upon that occasion made a song called, I will never bee drunke a­gaine, &c. And this was Wits first practise in the habit of a Citizen. His second practise was in another victual­ling house or Alehouse where hee lighted into the company of a Miller, a Tinker, a Cobler, a Porter, a Butcher, and the Tapster of the house, who sate and drank with them, and assoone as Witt came in he bad him welcome, and because hee was alone the other ioviall blades who were drinking hard, and smoaking their noses with Tobacco, desired him to sit downe, for if it pleased him they should be glad of his company, whereupon Witt opening his cloake which before hee had cast over his shoulders. assoone as the company saw that he had a leather apron before him, and a hammer under his girdle, they supposed him to bee a ham­mer man, and one asking him of what profession hee was, he answered that hée [Page]patient fellowes that could heare any burthen. That albeit they were city Asses and beare the Luggage of the Cittie on their backes, yet they have understanding enough if you put them to triall. That they weare two shirts when others doe scarcely were one. That they may say as the Post said, superanda omnis fortuna ferendo est, that is, all misfortune may bée over­come by sufferance and patient bea­ring of them. Lastly, a Porter is a Letterman, though hee know never a Letter, in company or out of com­pany hee is a fellow of good carriage.Wits descr [...] ­tion of [...] Bucher.Also Witte observed, That a Butcher though hée kill and sell meate, yet hée is many times no great meate­man. That his killing of meate is but a kinde of sacrificing to gluttony. That hee sells all his Calves heads, except it bee one which hee keepes for his owne use. That hée cuttes out his meate with great discretion, and bumbasts it with trunching-like skivers to make it seeme faire and fat. Lastly, hée is a good [...]ellow, and [Page]hée loves Essex very well, because that shire sends up many fatt calves and hogges to London: But at last death knockes him downe with a stroke iust betwéene the hornes, and so this bloody. [...]itts descrip­ [...]n of a Tap­ [...]r. Nero endeth his raigne. Lastly, Witt noted that a Tapster was a frothy fellow, that was servile to every mans humour, and subiect to every mans call. That hée is the Master Gunner in Bacchus his Lea­guer, and gives fire to the Tobacco pipes. That Quid est persolvendum? or what is to pay? is a question that is often put unto him, which hee answers and resolves by a distinction, that partialiter, there is a penny bread, sixe pence drinke, and two pence Tobacco, &c. and totaliter that there is in all nine-pence to pay. In a word his Art is to bring in a totall reckoning, and then divide it into parts, or else to bring in the particulars, and then to reduce them to a totall. In a word a Tapster is an honest good fellow, and hence hee is called a Tapster, because hee [Page]stirres the tappe often, with pulling it out, and wringing it in, and at length he many times sets up for himselfe, and becomes an Hoast. Witt observed ma­ny other persons, and made and writt many other discriptions of them, for when he had transformed himselfe into a new shape, hee would goe into fresh company, and converse and keepe com­pany with Taylors, Bakers, Cookes, Smiths, Chandelers, Ioyners, Ostlers, Watermen and the like, the discriptions of whose Persons and humours doe fol­low in the next Chapter.

The third Chapter. How Witt in the habit of a Citizen kept company still with Taylers, Bakers, Cookes, Smiths, Chandlers, Ioyners, Ostlers, Watermen and the like, and made certaine descriptions of their persons and humours, which doe briefly follow.

WItt being still disguised in the habit of a Citizen, thought to persist and goe forward still in the des­cribing and discovering the persons and humours of all sorts of people, and so going forth into the Cittie, it began to raine so violently, that hee was compelled to save himselfe from the iniury of the weather hee went into an Alehouse, where he found a messe or medley of boone companions, and good fel­lowes, who because it was a rainy day [Page]thought it better to wett themselves within, and kéepe themselves dry with­out. The ioviall lads that were thus tyed together in a true-lovers knot of good fellowship were those: namely, a Tayler, a Baker, a Cooke, a Smith, a Chandler, a Ioyner, an Ostler, and a Waterman. Witt being admitted in­to their company, (for there is no com­pany but will desire & admit of Witts company) drew these discriptions of their Persons, and Humours, viz. That a Tayler without any skill in Geometry takes the dimentions of your bodie.Wits descri [...] ­tion of a Ta [...] ­ler.That his wife has authority to goe fine by her husbands coppie. That hee is never without two géese, the one is al­waies rosting, and yet is ever raw; the other is alwaies raw & is never rosted. That he loves new fashions as well as Amsterdam brethren love Factions. That an ill conscience is a hell, but his hell is under or about his shopbord, where he casts all his stolen remnants, and so keepes hell out of his conscience. That hee and the Mercer doe make a gallant, but he spoyles them both, especially the [Page]Tayler, who must bee glad to petition his worship for his dew. That a long bill is a shrewd weapon, and no man handles it better then a Tayler. That there are many fashions which have come up and gone downe since Adam made himselfe bréeches of figge leaves. That wealth is a kinde of stiffening to the Tayler, and makes him thinke him­selfe a fine fellow. That his discourse is either fustian or humbast. That hée weares good linings in his bréeches, for his wife is Churched oftner than any woman in the Parish. Lastly, when hee dies he windes up his bottom and so makes an end.

Also Wit noted that a Baker is a dry crustie fellow, [...]itts descrip­ [...]n of a Bakerbecause for the most part hee deales upon vantage. That hee is drunke with bread, for the taking in of halfe a dozen setts him going at any tyme. That hée is sometimes enfor'st to look out of a wodden window. His bread is divided into thrée sorts, according to the thrée divisions of the people, his white bread is for the best sort, his wheaten bread for the middle ranckt, and his [Page]browne bread for the vulgar sort. That a Tayler loves a Baker, because hée loves bread. That hee never gives any thing to the poore, though sometimes his bread is taken from him & given to the poore. That a Bakers widow is a brown lasse, and brings a man both bread and flesh. In a word his bread is finer than himselfe, for hee is but the branne of the world.

Besides Witt observed that a Cooke was a greasie sweating profession, Witts descrip­tion of a Cooke.that does almost wast himself while his meat is roasting. That his chiefest ambiti­on is to raise paste well, and season meat discréetely. Hee makes great store of Porrige or broth, which hee selles by halfepenyworths, or else you pay for your broth in your meate. That if you an­ger him you shall finde him a hott hastie fellow, and the summer times melts his grease within him. That when his wife and he fall out, then all the fatt's in the fire.

He noted also that a Smith was one that had many heates, Witts descrip­tion of a Smith.and yet tooke no coldes. That Vulcans fortune and [Page]his are on. That he is never endited of forgerie, though hee is alwaies forging for though hee pawne all his tooles, yet he kéepes his vice. That hée loves the Iron age, because it is likely there were than many Smiths. Lastly, though he be a very smug fellow, [...]its descrip­ [...]on of a Chandler.yet his wife seldome loves him.

Moreover, Witt noted that a Chan­dler was a light braind fellow that sold candles and other small commodities by retaile. That he is a woodden scholler, for he kéepes his reckonings in woodden Books. That he cuts out pennyworths of chéese by the length of his Nose, and makes the proverbe true, I will sée your nose chéese first. That hee sells little quantities, and many times there are as little good qualities in his commodities. He should be a wise man, for he weighes every thing: [...]its descrip­ [...]ion of a Ioy­ [...]er.And lastly, if he uses good weights he may be an honest man.

Witt also noted that a Ioyner could not chuse but be a good companion by his Profession, for all good fellowes are Ioyners, and Ioyners are good fellowes. That in all wood worke they are excel­lent, and doe make Bedsteads and Cub­bords, [Page]and would kéepe no table at all, if hee could sell off those hée has. That if you take him for a ioyne stoole you doe him much wrong, for hee will sitten on or take any Iniury. He is a nimble shaver, and hee deales most with deale wood, which being of a softly nature hee can make an asse of it, and cutt it and carve it into any fashion.

And besides Witt conceived that an Ostler was a Rubber of Irrationall Animals or Creatures. Wits descrip­ion of an Ostler.That he speakes notherne spéeth, and will cosen a souther­man with his faire spéech. If you trust the Ostler to meate your horse, hee will enioyne him some pennance and kéepe him fasting, that so hee may abate the pride of his flesh, though you desire to have him lustie. That when hee is a­broad hee will stay thrée or foure dayes drinking, and lie at racke and manger, and yet hée will get it againe out of the racke and manger. That on the roade hee will pull off your bootes with great derterity, and having set him to his meate, hee rubbs him downe, and after­ward having made his bed, goes home­ly [Page]to a worse bedfellow, than the horse, namely, the old trott his wife. And thus an Ostler is a horse-man that does not serve in the warrs, but serves horses.

Lastly, Witts descrip­tion of a Wa­ [...]erman.Witt noted that a Water­man was one that lived by water, and yet hee drinkes the best beare hee can gett. His blew coate and cognisance agrées as well as a Pot of Ale and a Toast. That hée cares not if London Bridge were quite demolisht, for it hin­ders him. The Globe Playhouse on the banckeside, is like a bladder under one Arme, and Westminster is like a Bladder under the other Arme, for if it were not for these two he would sincke. Lastly, hee would live on the water, but desires to die on the land.

Witt having thus drawne forth the descriptions of these severall persons, when he perceived that the Tayler had wound up his bottom so long that now he could not take his cuppes in any mea­sure neither halfe ones nor whole ones, & that the Baker had tooke in so many halfe dozens that now hée is forst to [Page]cast them up againe with vantage, when Witt perceived that they were all gone in drink, than Wit was gone too: and so winding home to his ledging he drew these descriptions of the persons & humors which as they made him merry in wri­ting, so he hopes they will make you mer­ry in reading, for no man can shew any discretion or Witt in disliking that which was written By Witt.

The Readers are Witts Clients, and if he discerne,
That you kinde Readers doe like of his Tearme:
And that his Hillarie Tearme doe cheere your heart,
You may expect from Witt a second part.
FINIS.

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