An encomiastick character of the most necessary, most ingenious, and most pleasant art of taylorie dedicated to the masters of the much honoured Corporation of Edinburgh. / N. Paterson. Paterson, Ninian, d. 1688. 1688 Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). B04931 Wing P691 ESTC R181518 51784593 ocm 51784593 175002

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04931) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 175002) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2709:7) An encomiastick character of the most necessary, most ingenious, and most pleasant art of taylorie dedicated to the masters of the much honoured Corporation of Edinburgh. / N. Paterson. Paterson, Ninian, d. 1688. 1 sheet ([1] p.) Printed by John Reid,, Edinburgh, : Anno Dom. 1688. Caption title. Title vignette, initial letter. Reproduction of original in: National Library of Scotland.

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 eng Tailors -- Scotland -- Edinburgh -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Broadsides -- Scotland -- 17th century 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-04 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-05 Sampled and proofread 2008-05 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
AN ENCOMIASTICK CHARACTER Of the moſt Neceſſary, moſt Ingenious, and moſt Pleaſant Art, OF TAYLORIE Dedicated to the Maſters of the much Honoured CORPORATION OF EDINBURGH. BLeſt are Our Dayes, and Happy are Our Starrs! After Our Brutiſh, and Inteſtine Warrs; When harmeleſs Peace claps her Triumphant Wings, Betwixt the Subjects Intereſt, and the Kings: Peace the ſole Nurſe of Plenty, and of Arts, Hath with ſuch Thrift and Vertue fill'd our Hearts No more the Bloody, and Revengeful Blade To Toſs, but each to follow his Own Trade. Amongſt the which Your neceſſary Art, Hath both the Pompous, and the pleaſant Part; An Art whoſe Character, and true intent, Both for diſtinction is, and ornament. For conſtantly through all the World we find, Mans habit differs from the Woman-kind. If we affirm (who'l take it in ill part?) That Kings and Patriarchs both practiſ'd your Art. Joſeph was Jacobs darling, And what not? And it was Jacob that made Joſephs Coat. Ladies made Cloaths, who had no Journey men, A Madam Taylor was no wonder then. Yea without Taylors, where's the difference, Betwixt a Counteſſe and a Countrey Wench? Let any ſtrangers eye (the moſt obſervant) Diſtinction make of Maſter from a Servant, Without your Art? Nay it is only ye, Can faſhion each Man to his own degree. Did not your Art adorn them year by year, Lords would like Beggars, Beggars Lords appear. View me your Parliaments, wherein its ſaid The Glory of a Nation is Diſplaid; Did not your Pompous Art each Man adorn, Their Glorious Grandour all would turn to ſcorn. Adam and Eve, he King, and ſhe a Queen, The greateſt ever in this world were ſeen, Were Taylors both: But this was the miſchief. They wanted Cloath, and ſowed Leaf to Leaf. Yet ſince no Art, nor Inſtrument was theirs, They were but Embrio-Maſter faſhioners. It's yours above all Arts, whoſe induſtrie Can add a Splendour to Nobilitie. Yea, Ye have fill'd all Ages, and all States With Worthie Patriots and Magiſtrates; Both Burgeſſes, and Splendid Gentry too, In Town and Country owe their Birth to you: Councils, and Armies, ye have both ſupplied With Wit and Valour, more than any Trade. Some Arts the Hands, and ſome the Feet do cover, Only the Taylors Art, is ſeen all over. Some are for Halcyon peace, ſome for ſtern Warr, But yours for both, So great's a Taylors Care! Some Arts we uſe at Land, and ſome at Sea. The Taylors Art we need where ere we be. Some Arts are only for ſome kind of Men, But yours all ſorts doth fully comprehend; Without the which, Judges would ſtand like Blocks, And Kings themſelves wold prove but laughing ſtocks Some Arts are ſo extinct, nought can perſwade, But their ſad Relicts, they a Being had, Yet it's acknowledged in every part, The Taylors are the eldeſt Sons of Art; Whoſe Art to the laſt Judgment ſhall remain; Or Iſrael in deſert be again. Your Art was ſurely precious to the Jews, Who rent their cloaths on every diſmall newes. Ye're Artificiall Powers, that can Create The ſeveral ſhapes, both in the Church and State. And can them into ſeveral Claſſes varie, Politick, Sacred, or the Militarie. It's you makes Cinnamon Trees, of ſilly Noddies, Whoſe Bark is far more Worthy than their Bodies. And tho their Head like emptie Bottles ſhowes, Ye Rhetorick Infuſe into their Cloaths. If palliative cures deſerve that name, Ye are Phyſicians of Diſaſtrous ſhame. And are prefer'd before them yet a ſtepp, This word Hepp is pure Hebrew. Defects of nature ye both help and hepp. What Lands, what Livings, and what goodly price, Would Adam given for you in Paradice. It's true from Adam's fall our Cloaths we name, The faireſt covers, of the Fouleſt ſhame: Yet to exalt your Glory, not your Pride, Bleſſed are ye our nakedneſs can hide. It's you can make the outſide ſatisfie The expectation of the Curious Eye. The Souls the Bodies Blade, but then we know The Scabbard (next to GOD) to you we owe. Nay to the Eternal Honour of your Trade, Your Maſter firſt was GOD Himſelf we Read Geneſis 3.17. Since Reaſon and the Scriptures both allow, All other Trades muſt needs give place to you. A Maſter of his Trade none him aver, In Houſe or Shop who wants this Character. Aetern • m Floreat ARS VESTIARIA. N. PATERSON. FINIS.

EDINBƲRGH, Printed by John Reid, Anno DOM. 1688.