Micro-Cosmography, Part 1 – Part 11
1. A Childe.
IS a Man in a small Letter, yet the best Copie of Adam before hee tasted of Eue, or the Apple; and hee is happy whose small practice in the World can only write this Character. Hee is nature… fresh picture newly drawne in Oyle, which time, and much handling, dimmes and defaces. His Soule is yet a white paper vnscribled with obseruations of the world, wherewith at length it becomes a blurr'd Note-booke. He is purely happy, because he knowes no euill, nor hath made meanes by sinne to be acquainted with misery. Hee arriues not at the mischiefe of being wise, nor endures euils to come by fore seeing them. He kisses and loues all, and when the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his beater. Nature and his Parents alike dandle him, …nd tice him on with a bait of sugar, to a draught of worme-wood. Hee playes …et, like a young Prentice …he first day, and is not …ome to his taske of melancholly. His hardest labour is his tongue, as if he were loath to vse so deceitfull an Organ; and hee …s best company with it when he can but prattle. Wee laugh at his foolish …ports, but his game is our …arnest: and his drums, …attles and hobby-horses, …ut the Emblems, & mock…ng of mans businesse. His …ther hath writ him as his …wne little story, wherein hee reades those day e… his life that hee cannot …member; and sighes to … what innocence he has … liu'd. The elder he growe… hee is a stayer lower fro… God; and like his first f…ther mnch worse in … …eeches. He is the Chr…stians example, and the o…mans relapse: The o…mitates his purenesse, an… the other fals into his si…plicitie. Could he put … his body with his litt… Coate, he had got eternit… without a burthen, and … chang'd but one Heaue… for another.
2. A young rawe. Preacher.
…S a Bird not yet fledg'd, … that hath hopt out of his …est to bee Chirping on a …edge, and will bee strag…ng abroad at what perill … euer. His backwardnesse … the Vniuersitie hath set …im thus forward; for had …e not truanted there, hee …ad not beene so hastie a …iuine. His small standing …nd time hath made him a …roficient onelyonly in bold…esse, out of which and his …able-booke he is furnisht …or a Preacher. His Col…ections of Studie are the …otes of Sermons, which taken vp at S. Maries, … vtters in the Country. A … if he write Brachigraphy … his stocke is so much th… better. His writing is mor… then his reading; for he… reads onelyonly what hee get… without booke. Thus accomplisht he comes dow… to his friends, and his fir… salutation is grace & peac… out of the Pulpit. His prayer is conceited, and no ma… remembers his Colledg… more at large. The pace o… his Sermon is a ful career… and he runnes wildly … hill and dale till the clock… stop him. The labour of i… is chiefly in his lungs. An… the onelyonly thing hee ha… made of it himselfe, is the faces. He takes on against the Pope without mercy, and ha's a iest still in lauender for Bellarmine. His action is all passion, and his speech interiections: Hee ha's an excellent faculty in bemoaning the people, and spits with a very good grace. Hee will not draw …his handkercher out of his place, nor blow his nose without discretion. His commendation is, that hee neuer looks vponupon booke, and indeed, he was neuer vs'd to it. Hee preaches but once a yeare, though twice on Sunday: for the stuffe is still the same, only dressing a little alter'd. H… has more trickes with an… Sermon, then a Tailer with an old Cloake, to turn… it, and piece it, and at las… quite disguise it with a new Preface. If he hauehave wade… further in his profession and would shew Reading of his own, his Authors a… Postils, and his Schoole diuinitie a Ca…echisme. Hi… fashion and demure Ha…bit gets him in with som… Town-precisian, and mak… him a Guest on Fryda… nights. You shall know him by his narrow Velue cape, and Serge facing, an… his ruffe, next his Haire, th… shortest thing about hi… The cōpanion of his walke is some zealous tradesman, whom he astonisheth with strange points, which they both vnderstand alike. His friends and much painefulnesse may preferre him to thirtie pounds a yeare, and this means, to a Chamber-maide: with whom wee leaue him now in the bonds of Wedlocke. Next Sunday you shal hauehave him againe.
3. A Graue Diuine.
IS one that knowes the burden of his calling, and hath studied to make his shoulders sufficient: for which he hath not beene hasty to launch forth of his port the Vniuersity, hut expected the ballast of learning, and the winde of opportunity. Diuinity is not the beginning but the end of his studies, to which hee takes the ordinary stayre, and makes the Arts his way. He counts it not profanenesse to bee polisht with humane reading, or to smooth his way by Aristotle to schoole-diuinity. He ha's sounded both Religions and anchord in the best, and is a Protestant out of iudgement, not faction, not because his Country, but his Reason is on this side. The ministry is his choyce, not refuge, and yet the Pulpit not his itch, but feare. His discourse there is substance, not all Rhetorique, and he vtters more things then words. His speech is not help't with enforc'd action, but the matter acts it selfe. Hee shoots all his meditations at one Butt: and beats vponupon his text, not the Cushion, making his hearers not the Pulpit groane. In citing of Popish errors, he cuts them with Arguments, not cudgels them with barren inu… ctiues: and labours more to shew the truth of his cause then the spleene. His Sermon is limited by the method, not the houre-glasse; and his Deuotion goes along with him out of the Pulpit. Hee comes not vp thrice a weeke because he would not bee idle, nor talkes three houres together, because hee would not talke nothing: but his tongue Preaches at fit times; and his conuersation is the eueryevery dayes exercise. In matters of ceremonie hee is not ceremonious, but thinkes hee owes that reuerence to the Church to bow his iudgement to it, and make more conscience of schisme, then a Surplesse. Hee esteemes the Churches Hirarchie, as the Churches glory, and how-euer wee iarre with Rome, would not hauehave our confusion distinguish vsus. In Symoniacall purchases he thinks his Soule goes in the bargaine, and is loath to come by promition so deare. Yet his worth at the length aduances him, and the price of his owne merit buyes him a Liuing. He is no base Grater of his Tythes, and will not wrangle for the odde Egge. The Lawyer is the onelyonly man he hinders, he is spited for taking vp quarrels. Hee is a maine pillar of our Church, though not yet Deane nor Canon, and his life our Religions best Apologie: His death is his last Sermon, where in the Pulpit of his Bed hee instructs men to dye by his example.
4. A meere dull Physitian.
HIs practice is some businesse at bed-sides, and his speculation an Vrinall. Hee is distinguish… from an Empericke by a round veluet cap, and Doctors gowne, yet no man takes degrees more superfluously, for he is Doctor howsoeuer. He is sworne to Gale… and Hypocrates, as Vniuersity men to their statutes, though they neuer saw them, and his discourse is all Aphorismes, though his reading be onelyonly Alexis of Piemont, or the Regiment of Health. The best Cure hee ha's done is vponupon his own purse, which from a leane sicklinesse he hath made lusty, and in flesh. His learning consists much in reckoning vp the hard names of diseases, and the superscriptions of Gally-pots in his Apothecaries Shoppe, which are rank't in his Shelues, and the Doctors memory. If he hauehave been but a by-stander at some desperate recouerie, hee is slander'd with it, though hee be guiltlesse; and this breeds his reputation, and that his Practice; for his skill is meerely opinion. Of all odors he likes best the smell of Vrine, and holds Vespatians rule, that no gaine is vnsauorie. If you send this once to him, you must resolue to be sick howsoeuer, for he will neuer leaue examining your Water till he hauehave shak… it into a Disease. Then followes a writ to his drugger in a strange tongue, which hee vnderstands though he cannot conster. If he see you himselfe, his presence is the worst visitation: for if hee cannot heale your sicknesse, he will be sure to helpe it. He translates his Apothecaries Shop into your Chamber, and the verie Windowes and Benches must take Physicke. He tels you your Maladie in Greeke, though it be but a cold, or head-ach: which by good endeauor and diligence hee may bring to some moment indeed; his most vnfaithfull act is, that hee leaues a man gasping, and his pretence is, death and he hauehave a quarrell, and must not meete; but his feare is, least the Carcasse should bleed. Anatomies and other spectacles of Mortality hauehave hardened him, and hee's no more struck with a Funerall then a Graue-maker. Noblemen vse him for a director of their stomacks, and Ladies for wantonnesse, especially if hee bee a proper man. If he be single, he is in league with his Shee-Apothecary, and because it is the Physitian, the husband is Patient. If he hauehave leasure to be idle (that is to study) he ha's a smatch at Alcumy, and is sicke of the Pilosophers stone, a disease vncurable, but by an abundant Phlebotomy of the purse. His two main opposites are a Mountebanke, and a good Woman, and he neuer shewes his learning so much as in an inuectiue against them, and their boxes. In conclusion he is a sucking consumption, and a very brother to the wormes, for they are both ingendred out of mans corruption.
5. An Alderman.
HEe is Venerable in his Gowne, more in his Beard, wherewith hee sets not foorth so much his owne, as the face of a Citie. You must looke on him as one of the Towne-Gates, and consider him not as a Body, but a Corporation. His eminencie aboue others hath made him a man of Worship, for hee had neuer beene prefer'd, but that hee was worth thousands. Hee ouer-sees the Common-wealth, as his Shop, and it is an argument of his Policie, that he has thriuen by his craft. Hee is a rigorous Magistrate in his Ward: yet his scale of Iustice is suspected, least it bee like the Ballances in his Ware-house. A ponderous man he is, and substantial: for his weight is commonly extraordinarie, and in his preferment nothing Rises so much as his Bellie. His Head is of no great depth, yet well furnisht, when it is in coniunction with his Brethren, may bring foorth a Citie Apothegme, or some such sage matter. Hee is one that will not hastily runne into error, for hee treds with great deliberation, & his iudgment consists much in his pace. His discourse is commonly the Annals of his Maioralty, and what good gouerment there was in the dayes of his gold Chaine: though his doore-posts were the onelyonly things that suffered reformation: Hee seemes not sincerely religious, especially on solemne daies; for he comes oft to Church to make a shew. He is the highest stayre of his profession and an example to his Trade, what in time they may come to. Hee makes very much of his authority; but more of his Sattin Doublet; which, though of good yeares, bears its age very well, and looks fresh eueryevery Sunday; But his Scarlet gowne is a Monument, and lasts from generation to generation.
6. A discontented Man.
IS one that is falne out with the world, and will bee reuengd' on himselfe. Fortune ha's deny'd him in something, and hee now takes pet, and will be miserable in spite. The roote of his disease is a selfe-humouring pride, and an accustom'd tendernesse, not to bee cro…t in his fancy▪ and the occasions com…monly one of these three▪ a hard father, a peeuish wench, or his ambition thwarted. Hee considered not the nature of the world till he felt it, and all blowes fall on him heauier, because they light not first on his expectation. He has now forgone all but his pride, and is yet vaine glorious in the ostentation of his melancholy. His composure of himselfe is a studied carelesnesse with his armes a crosse, and a neglected hanging of his head and cloake, and he is as great an enemie to an hat-band, as Fortune. He quarrels at the time, and vp-starts, and sighs at the neglect of men of Parts, that is, such as himselfe. His life is a perpetuall Satyre, and hee is still girding the ages vanity; when this very anger shewes he too much esteemes it. Hee is much displeas'd to see men merry, and wonders what they can find to laugh at. Hee neuer drawes his own lips higher then a smile, and frownes wrinckle him before fortie. Hee at the last fals into that deadly melancholy to bee a bitter hater of men, and is the most apt Companion for any mischiefe. Hee is the sparke that kindles the Common-wealth, and the bellowes himselfe to blow it: and if he turn any thing, it is commonly one of these, either Friar, traitor, or mad-man.
7. An Antiquary.
HE is a man strangely thrifty of Time past, & an enemy indeed to his Maw, whence hee fetche… out many things when they are now all rotten and stinking. Hee is one tha… hath that vnnaturall disease to bee enamour'd o… old age, and wrinckles, and loues all things (as Dutchmen doe Cheese) the better for being mouldy and worme-eaten. He is of our Religion, because we say it is most ancient; and yet a broken Statue would almost make him an Idolater. A great admirer he is of the rust of old Monuments, and reades onelyonly those Charactars, where time hath eaten out the letters. Hee will goe you forty miles to see a Saints Well, or ruin'd Abbey: and if there be but a Crosse or stone foot-stoole in the way, hee'l be considering it so long, till he forget his iourney. His estate consists much in shekels, and Roman Coynes, and he hath more Pictures of Caesar, then Iames or Elizabeth▪ Beggers coozen him with musty things which they hauehave rak't from dunghils, and he preserues their rags for precious Reliques. He loues no Library, but where there are more Spiders volums then Authors, and lookes with great admiration on the Antique worke of Cob-webs. Printed bookes he contemnes, as a nouetly of this latter age; but a Manu-script the pores on euerlastingly, especially if the couer be all Moth-eaten, and the dust make a Parenthesis betweene euerie Sillable. He would giuegive all the Bookes in his Studie (which are rarities all) for one of the old Romane binding, or sixe lines of Tully in his owne hand. His chamber is hung commonly with strange Beasts skins, and is a kind of Charnel-house of bones extraordinarie, and his discourse vponupon them, if you will heare him shall last longer. His verie atyre is that which is the eldest out of fashion, and you may picke a Criticism out of his Breeches. He neuer lookes vponupon him self til he is gray-hair'd, and then he is pleased with his owne Antiquity. His Graue do…s not fright him, for he ha's been vs'd to Sepulchers, and hee likes Death the better, because it gathers him to his Fathers.
9. Younger Brother.
HIs elder Brother was the Esau, that came out first and left him like Iacob at his heeles. His father ha's done with him, as Phararh to the children of Israel, that would hauehave them make brick, and giuegive them no straw, so he taskes him to bee a Gentleman, and leaues him nothing to maintaine it. The pride of his house has vndone him, which the elder Knighthood must sustaine, and his beggery that Knighthood. His birth and bringing vp will not suffer him to descend to the meanes to get wealth: but he stands at the mercy of the world, and which is worse of his brother. He is something better then the Seruing-men; yet they more saucy with him, then hee bold with the master, who beholds him with a countenance of sterne awe, and checks him oftner then his Liueries. His brothers old suites and hee are much alike in request, and cast off now and then one to the other. Nature hath furnisht him with a little more wit vponupon compassion; for it is like to be his best reuenew. If his Annuity stretch so farre he is sent to the Vniuersity, and with great heart-burning takes vponupon him the Ministry; as a profession hee is condemn'd, to by his ill fortune. Other take a more crooked path, yet the Kings high-way, where at length their vizzard is pluck't off, and they strike faire for Tiburne: but their Brothers pride, not louelove, gets them a pardon. His last refuge is the Low-countries, where rags and lice are no scandall, where hee liues a poore Gentleman of a Company, and dies without a shirt. The onelyonly thing that may better his fortunes, is an art hee ha's to make a Gentlewoman, wherewith hee baits now and then some rich widow, that is hungry after his blood. He is commonly discontented, and desperate, and the forme of his exclamation is, that Churle my Brother. He loues not his country for this vnnatural custome, and would hauehave long since reuolted to the Spaniard, but for Kent onelyonly which he holds in admiration.
10. A meere formall Man.
IS somewhat more then the shape of a man; for he has his length, breadth, and colour. When you hauehave seene his outside, you hauehave lookt through him, and need imploy your discouery no farther. His reason is meerly example, and his action is not guided by his vnderstanding, but he sees other men doe thus, and he followes them. He is a Negatiue, for we cannot call him a wise man, but not a foole; nor an honest man, but not a knaue; nor a Protestant, but not a Papist. The chiefe burden of his brain is the carriage of his body, and the setting of his face in a good frame: which hee performes the better, because hee is not disiointed with other Meditations. His Religion is a good quiet subiect, and he prayes, as he sweares, in the Phrase of the Land. He is a faire guest, and a faire inuiter, and can excuse his good cheere in the accustomed Apologie. Hee ha's some faculty in mangling of a Rabbet, and the distribution of his morsell to a neighbour trencher. Hee apprehends a iest by seeing men smile, and laughes orderly himselfe, when it comes to his turne. His discourse is the newes that hee hath gathered in his walke, and for other matters his discretion is, that he will only what hee can, that is, say nothing. His life is like one that runnes to the Minster-walke, to take a turne, or two, and so passes. He hath staid in the world to fill a number; and when he is gone, there wants one, and there's an end.
11. A Church-Papist.
IS one that parts his Religion betwixt his conscience and his purse, and comes to Church not to serue God, but the King. The face of the Law makes him weare the maske of the Gospel, which he vses not as a meanes to saue his soule, but charges. He loues Popery well, but is loath to lose by it, and though he be somthing scar'd with the Buls of Rome, yet they are farre off, and he is strucke with more terror at the Apparitor. Once a monethmonth he presents himselfe at the Church, to keepe off the Church warden, & brings in his body to saue his bayle. He kneels with the Congregation, but prayes by himselfe, and asks God forgiuenesse for comming thither. If he be forc'd to stay out a Sermon, he puts his hat ouer his eyes, and frowns out the houre, and when hee comes home, thinkes to make amends for this fault by abusing the Preacher. His maine policy is to shift off the Communion, for which he is neuer vnfurnish't of a quarrell, and will be sure to be out of Charity at Easter; and indeed lies not, for hee ha's a quarrell to the Sacrament. He would make a bad Martyr, and good trauellor, for his conscience is so large, he could neuer wander out of it, and in Constantinople would be circumcis'd with a reseruation. His wife is more zealous, and therfore more costly, and he bates her in tyres, what she stands him in Religion. But we leaue him hatching plots against the State, and expecting Spinola.
12. A selfe conceited Man.
IS one that knowes himselfe so well that he does not know himselfe. Two excellent well-dones hauehave vndone him; and hee is guilty, that first commended him to madnesse. He is now become to his owne booke, which he poares on continually, yet like a truant-reader skips ouer the harsh places and surueyes onelyonly that which is pleasant. In the speculation of his owne good parts, his eyes like a drunkards see all double, and his fancy like an old mans spectacles, make a great letter in a small print. He imagines eueryevery place where hee comes his Theater, and not a looke stirring, but his spectator; and conceiues mens thoughts to be very idle, that is, busie about him. His walke is still in the fashion of a March, and like his opinion vnaccompanyed, with his eyes most fixt vponupon his owne person, or on others with reflection to himselfe. If he hauehave done any thing that ha's past with applause, he is alwayes re-acting it alone, and conceits the extasie his hearers were in at eueryevery period. His discourse is all positions, and definitiue decrees, with thus it must be, and thus it is, and hee will not humble his authority to proue it. His tenent is alwayes singular, and aloofe from the vulgar as he can, from which you must not hope to wrest him. Hee ha's an excellent humor, for an heretique, and in these dayes made the first Arminian. He prefers Ramus before Aristotle, & Paracelsus before Galen, and whosoeuer with most Paradox is commended, & Lipsius his hopping stile, before either Tully or Quintilian. He much pities the World, that ha's no more in sight in his Parts, when he is too well discouered, euen to this very thoght. A flatterer is a dunce to him, for he can tell him nothing but what hee knowes before, and yet he loues him to, because he is like himselfe. Men are mercifull to him, and let him alone, for if he be once driuen from his humor, he is like two inward friends fallen out; His own bitter enemy, and discontent presently makes a murther. In summe, he is a bladder blown vp with wind, which the least flaw crushes to nothing.