pleasures fopperies, whose study fables, and whose exercise worse than follies. His conversation is base, and his conference ridiculous; his affections ungracious, and his actions ignominious. His apparel out of fashion, and his diet out of order; his carriage out of square, and his company out of request. In sum, he is like a mungrel dog with a velvet collar; a cart-horse with a golden saddle; a buzzard-kite with a falcon's bill; or a baboon with a pied jerkin."

"A QUIET WOMAN.

"A QUIET Woman is like a still wind, which neither chills the body, nor blows dust in the face: her patience is a virtue that wins the heart of Love, and her wisdom makes her will well worthy regard: she fears God and flieth sin, sheweth kindness and loveth peace; her tongue is tied to discretion, and her heart is the harbour of goodness: she is a comfort of calamity, and in prosperity a companion; a physician in sickness, and a musician in help: her ways are the walk towards heaven, and her guide is the grace of the Almighty: she is her husband's down-bed, where his heart lies at rest, and her childrens' glass in the notes of her grace, her servants' honour in the keeping of her house, and her neighbours' example in the notes of good nature: she scorns Fortune and loves Virtue, and out of thrift gathereth charity: she is a Turtle in her love, a Lamb in her meekness, a Saint in her heart, and an Angel in her soul. In sum, she is a jewel un

prizable, and a joy unspeakable, a comfort in Nature incomparable, and a Wife in the world unmatchable."

"AN UNQUIET WOMAN.

"AN Unquiet Woman is the misery of man, whose demeanour is not to be described, but in extremities: her voice is the shrieking of an owl, her eye the poison of a cockatrice, her hand the claw of a crocodile, and her heart a cabinet of horror: she is the grief of Nature, the wound of Wit, the trouble of Reason, and the abuse of Time: her pride is unsupportable, her anger unquenchable, her will unsatiable, and her malice unmatchable: she fears no colours, she cares for no counsel, she spares no person, nor respects any time; her command is must, her reason will, her resolution shall, and her satisfaction so she looks at no law, and thinks of no Lord; admits no command, and keeps no good order: she is a cross, but not of Christ; and a word, but not of grace; a creature, but not of wisdom; and a servant, but not of God. In sum, she is the seed of trouble, the fruit of travail, the taste of bitterness, and the digestion of death."

"AN USURER.

"AN Usurer is a figure of misery, who hath made himself a slave to his money: his eye is closed from pity, and his hand from charity, his ear from compassion, and his heart from piety: while he lives he is the hate of a

Christian, and, when he dies, he goes with horror to hell: his study is sparing, and his care is getting, his fear is wanting, and his death is loosing: his diet is either fasting or poor fare, his clothing the hangman's wardrobe, his house the receptacle of thievery, and his music the chinking of his money: he is a kind of canker that, with the teeth of interest, eats the hearts of the poor, and a venomous fly, that sucks out the blood of any flesh that he lights on. In sum, he is a servant of dross, a slave to misery, an agent for hell, and a devil in the world.”

"A BEGGAR.

"A BEGGAR is the child of idleness, whose life is a resolution of ease, his travel is most in the highways, and his rendezvous is commonly in an alehouse: his study is to counterfeit impotency, and his practice to couzen simplicity of charity; the juice of the malt is the liquor of his life, and at bed and board a louse is his companion: he fears no such enemy as a constable, and being acquainted with the stocks, must visit them as he goes by them: he is a drone that feeds upon the labours of the bee, and unhappily begotten, that is born for no goodness: his staff and his scrip are his walking furniture, and what he lacks in meat he will have out in drink: he is a kind of caterpillar that spoils much good fruit, and an unprofitable creature to live in a commonwealth: he is seldom handsome, and often noisesome; always troublesome, and never welcome: he prays for all, and preys upon all; be

gins with blessing, but ends often with cursing: if he have a licence he shews it with a grace, but if he have none he is submissive to the ground: sometimes he is a thief, but always a rogue, and in the nature of his profession the shame of humanity. In sum, he is commonly begot in a bush, born in a barn, lives in a highway, and dies in a ditch."

Our author had given to the world in the preceding year another Prose Tract, entitled, "Characters upon Essays Moral and Divine," of which a specimen is to be found in "Censura Literaria," v. 52. Five of his poems are inserted in "The Phoenix Nest," 1593, of which a reprint in "The Heliconia,” is announced. His "Character of Queen Elizabeth" is revived in " Nichols's Progresses."

A reprint of his "Longing of a Blessed Heart" has been produced by the Press of LEE PRIORY.

A notice of his "Soul's Immortal Crown" is inserted in "The British Bibliographer." His

Melancholy Humours," and "Ravish'd Soul," are now printing at LEE PRIORY.

By Robert Southwell.

From his "St. Peter's Complaint," 1595.

DWELL in Grace's court,

Enrich'd with Virtue's rights;

Faith guides my wit; Love leads my will;
Hope all my mind delights.

In lowly vales I mount

To Pleasure's highest pitch;

My seely shroud true honour brings;
My poor estate is rich.

My conscience is my crown,
Contented thoughts my rest;

My heart is happy in itself;

My bliss is in my breast.

Enough I reckon wealth;

A mean the surest lot;

That lies too high for base contempt;
Too low for Envy's shot.

My wishes are but few,

All easy to fulfill;

I make the limits of my power

The bounds unto my will.