1810.] 
but a borrowed blast of wind; for, be- 
tween two religions, as betweene two 
doers, he is ever whistling. Truly whose 
ehild he is, is yet anknowne $ for willingly 
his faith allowes no father: onely thus 
far his pedigree is found. Bragser and he 
flourisht about a time first; his fiery zeale 
keepes bim continually costive, which 
withers him into his own translation, and 
till he eat a schooieman he is hide-bound ; 
he ever prayes against non-residents, but 
is himself the greatest -discontinuer,. for 
he never keeps neere his text ::any thiag 
that the law allowes, but marriage and 
March beere, hee murmurs at; what it 
disallows and holds dangerous, makes him” 
a discipline. Where the gate stands 
open, hee is ever seeking a stile ; and 
where his learning ought to climb, he 
creeps through: give him advice, you run 
into traditions; and urge a modest course, 
he cryes out councels. His greatest care 
is to contemn obedience, his last care to 
serve God handsomely and cleanly. Hee 
is now become so crosse a kind of teach- 
ing, that should the church enjoyne clean 
shirts, hee were lowsie: more sense than 
single praiers is not his; nor more in 
those, than still the same petitions: from 
which he either feares a learned faith, 
or doubts God understands not at first 
hearing, Shew hina a ring, he runs back 
like a beare; and hates square dealing as 
allied to caps: a paire of organs blow 
him out oth’ parish, and are the only 
glister-pipes to coole him. Where the 
meat is best, there he confutes most, for 
his arguing is but the efficacy of his eat-. 
ing: good bits he holds breed good po- 
sitions, and the pope he best concludes 
against in plom-broth. Hee is often 
drunke, but not as we are, temporally; 
nor can his sleepe then cure him, for the 
fumes of his ambition make his very soule 
reele, and that small beere that should 
allay him (silence) keepes him more sur- 
feited, and makes his heat break out in 
private houses: women and lawyers are 
his ‘best disciples; the one, next fruit, 
longs for forbidden doctrine; the other 
to maintaine forbidden titles, both which 
he sowes amongst them. Honest he 
dares not be, for that loves order; yet 
ifhe can bee brought to ceremony, and 
made but master of it, he is converted.” 
“€ a FAIRE AND HAPPY MILK-MAID, 
* Is a country wench, that is so farre 
from making ber selfe beautifull by art, 
that one looke of hers is able to put all 
face-physicke out of countenance. — She 
knowes a faire looke is but a dumb orator 
° 
vw 
F 
the Jonger for’t. 
% =) 
Scarce Tracis, Xc. me , O47 
to commend vertue, therefore minds it 
not. 
silently, as if they had stolne upon hee 
without her knowledge. The lining ef 
her apparell (which 1s herselfe) is farre 
better than outsides of tissew ; forthough 
she be not arrayed in the spoile of the 
siike-worme, shee ts deckt in innocency, 
afar better wearing. She doth not, with 
lying long abed, spoile both her complex- 
ion and conditions; nature hath taught 
her, too immoderate sleep is rust to the 
soule: she rises therefore with chaunti- 
cleare, her dames cock, and at night makes 
the lamb her corfew. In milking a cow, 
and straining the teats through her fins 
gers, 1t seemes that so sweet a milk. 
presse makes the miik the whiter or 
sweeter; for never came almond gloye or 
aromatique cyntment of her palme ta 
taint 1. The golden eares of corne full 
and kisse her feet when she reapes them, 
as if they wisht to be bound and led pri- 
soners by the same hand that fell’d thezs. 
Her breath is her,own, which scents ail 
the yearelong of June, like a new-made 
haycock. ‘She makes her hand hard with 
labour, and her heart soft with pity: 
and when winters evenings fall early 
(sitting at her merry wheele) she sings a 
defiance to the giddy wheel of fortune, 
She doth ail things with so sweet a grace, 
it seems ignorance will not suffer her to 
doe ill, being her mind is to doe vell. 
She bestowes her yeares wages at next 
faire; and in chusing her garments, 
counts no bravery Vth’ world hke decen= 
cy; The garden and. bee-hive, are «aii 
her physick and chyrurgery, and she lives 
She dares goe alone, 
and unfolde sheepe rth’ night, and feares 
no manner of ill, because she meanes 
none: yet to say truth, she is never 
alone, for she is still accompanied with 
old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, 
but short ones; yet they have their efs- 
cacy, in that they are not. pauled with 
insuing idle cogitations. Lastly her 
dreames are so chaste, that shee dare 
teil them; only a Fridaies dream is all 
her superstition, that she conceals for 
feare of anger. Thus lives she, and all 
her care is she may die in the spring-time, 
to have store of flowers stucke upon her 
winding sheet.” : 
eel 
‘ 
THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIF Es 
By Sir H. W. (Sir Henry Wotton.) 
«* How happy is he borne or taugnt, 
That serveth not anothers will, 
Whose armour is his honest thought, 
And silly truth his highest skill! 
: Whose 
Ali her excellencies stand in her su | 
~ 
