Sir, Your humble servant, RICHARD BAXTER.

_June 20, 1662._

_P. S._ I have the more need of your justice in this case, because my distance denieth me access to those that have received these misreports, and because any public vindication of myself, whatever is said of me, is taken as an unsufferable crime, and therefore I am utterly incapable of vindicating my innocency, or remedying their mistakes.

"To the reverend and much honoured Dr. Earles, Dean of Westminster, &c. These."

DR EARLE, IN REPLY.

_Hampton-Court, June 23._

"SIR,

[Sidenote: O that they were all such.--_Note by Mr.

Baxter._]

"I received your letter, which I would have answered sooner, if the messenger that brought it had returned. I must confess I was a little surprized with the beginning of it, as I was with your name; but when I read further I ceased to be so. Sir, I should be heartily sorry and ashamed to be guilty of any thing like malignity or uncharitableness, especially to one of your condition, with whom, though I concur not perhaps in point of judgment in some particulars, yet I cannot but esteem for your personal worth and abilities; and, indeed, your expressions in your letter are so civil and ingenuous, that I am obliged thereby the more to give you all the satisfaction I can.

[Sidenote: These words I heard not, being in the pa.s.sage from him.--_Note by Mr. Baxter._]

As I remember, then, when you came to me to the closet, and I told you I would furnish you with a tippet, you answered me something to that purpose as you write, but whether the same numerical words, or but once, I cannot possibly say from my own memory, and therefore I believe yours. Only this I am sure of, that I said to you at my second speaking, that some others of your persuasion had not scrupled at it, which might suppose (if you had not affirmed the contrary), that you had made me a formal refusal; of which giving me then no other reason than that "it belonged not to you," I concluded that you were more scrupulous than others were. And, perhaps, the manner of your refusing it (as it appeared to me) might make me think you were not very well pleased with the motion. And this it is likely I might say, either to my lord chancellor or others; though seriously I do not remember that I spake to my lord chancellor at all concerning it. But, sir, since you give me now that modest reason for it, (which, by the way, is no just reason in itself, for a tippet may be worn without a degree, though a hood cannot; and it is no shame at all to want these formalities for him that wanteth not the substance,) but, sir, I say, since you give that reason for your refusal, I believe you, and shall correct that mistake in myself, and endeavour to rectify it in others, if any, upon this occasion, have misunderstood you. In the mean time I shall desire your charitable opinion of myself, which I shall be willing to deserve upon any opportunity that is offered me to do you service, being, sir,

Your very humble servant,

JO. EARLES."

"To my honoured friend, Mr. Richard Baxter, These."

No. X.

MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTION

IN STREGLETHORP CHURCH, NEAR NEWARK-UPON-TRENT, IN LINCOLNSHIRE.

[From Le Neve's _Monumenta Anglicana_[BT]. 8vo. Lond. 1718. vol. iii. p.

182.]

Stay, reader, and observe Death's partial doom, A spreading virtue in a narrow tombe; A generous mind, mingled with common dust, Like burnish'd steel, cover'd, and left to rust.

Dark in the earth he lyes, in whom did shine All the divided merits of his line.

The l.u.s.tre of his name seems faded here, No fairer star in all that fruitful sphere.

In piety and parts extreamly bright, Clear was his youth, and fill'd with growing light, A morn that promis'd much, yet saw no noon; None ever rose so fast, and set so soon.

All lines of worth were centered here in one, Yet see, he lies in shades whose life had none.

But while the mother this sad structure rears,} A double dissolution there appears--} He into dust dissolves, she into tears.}

RICHARDUS EARLE[BU], Barn^{tus}.

Obijt decimo tertio die Aug^{ti} Anno Dom. 1697.

aetatis suae 24.

FOOTNOTES:

[BT] Two other epitaphs appear in this collection, on the Earles of Norfolk, with whom I cannot find our author to have had the least connection. A full account of this family may be seen in Blomefield's _History of Norfolk_, vol. iii. p. 531.

[BU] The t.i.tle was created by Charles the First, July 2, 1629, and, I believe, became extinct at the decease of this person.

No. XI.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF BOOKS OF CHARACTERS.

No. i.

_A Caueat for commen Cvr setors vulgarely called Uagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman.

Esquier. for the vtiliteand proffyt of hys naturall Countrey. Newly agmented and Jmprinted Anno Domini._ M.D.LXUjj.

-- _Vewed, examined, and allowed, according vnto the Queenes Maiestyes Iniunctions_

[Roughly-executed wood-cut, of two persons receiving punishment at the cart's tail from the hands of a beadle.]

_Imprinted at London in Fletestret at the signe of the Faulcon by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be solde at his shoppe in Saynt Dunstones Churche yarde in the West._

[4to. black letter, containing thirty folios, very incorrectly numbered.]

I commence my list of _Characters_, with a volume, which, although earlier than the period I originally intended to begin from, is of sufficient curiosity and interest to warrant introduction, and, I trust, to obtain pardon from the reader for the additional trouble I am thus preparing for him.

Mr. Warton, in his _History of English Poetry_, (iv. 74.) has given, with some trifling errors, a transcript of the t.i.tle, and says he has a faint remembrance of a Collection of Epigrams, by the author, printed about 1599: these I have never been fortunate enough to meet with, nor do they appear in the collections of Ames or Herbert, neither of whom had seen a copy of the present work, although they mention Griffith's licence to print it as dated in 1566[BV].

It is dedicated to Elizabeth, countess of Shrewsbury; Mr. Warton thinks "with singular impropriety," although the motive appears at least to justify the measure, if it does not ent.i.tle the author to commendation. He addresses this n.o.ble lady as a person of extreme benevolence, and "as also aboundantly powrynge out dayly [her] ardent and bountifull charytie vppon all such as commeth for reliefe."--"I thought it good," he continues, "necessary, and my bounden dutye, to acquaynte your goodnes with the abhominable, wycked, and detestable behauor of all these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rake h.e.l.les, that vnder the pretence of great misery, dyseases, and other innumerable calamites whiche they fayne through great hipocrisye, do wyn and gayne great almes in all places where they wyly wander."--On this account, therefore, and to preserve the kindness and liberality of the countess from imposition, Harman dedicates his book to that lady.

The notorious characters mentioned, are a "ruffler[BW]; a upright man[BX]; a hoker or angglear[BY]; a roge[BZ]; a wylde roge[CA]; a prygger of prauncers; a pallyarde[CB]; a frater[CC]; a Abraham man[CD]; a fresh water mariner, or whipiacke; a counterfet cranke[CE]; a dommerar[CF]; a dronken tinckar[CG]; a swadder or pedler; a jarke man, and a patrico[CH]; a demaunder for glymmar[CI]; a bawdy basket[CJ]; a antem morte[CK]; a walking morte; a doxe; a dell; a kynchin morte; and a kynchen co."

From such a list, several instances of the tricks, as well as specimens of the language of the thieves of the day, might with ease be extracted, did not the limits of my little volume compel me to refrain from entering at large into this history of rogues; a restriction I the more regret, from its containing several pa.s.sages ill.u.s.trating the manners of that period, and which would be found of material use towards explaining many of the allusions met with in our early English dramas and now but imperfectly understood.

"-- Prygger of Prauncers. (Sign. C. iii. b.)

"A prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, and a prauncer is a horse, so beinge put together, the matter is plaine. These go commonly in jerkins of leather or of white frese, & carry little wandes in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pasturs, to search and se horses mete for their purpose. And if thei chaunce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne straighte that they have loste theyr waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste way to suche a place.

These will also repayre to gentlemens houses, and aske theyr charitye, and will offer theyr seruice. And if you aske them what they can doe, they wil saye that they can kepe two or three geldinges, and waite vppon a gentleman. These haue also theyr women that, walkinge from them in other places, marke where and what they see abrode, and sheweth these priggars therof, when they meete, whych is wythin a weeke or two. And loke, where they steale any thynge, they conuey the same at the leaste three score miles of, or more. There was a gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydynge from London homewarde into Kente, hauinge within three myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and hys man also, in a pretye village, where diuers houses were, and looked about hym where he myghte haue a conuenyent person to walke his horse, because he would speak we a farmer that dwelte on the backe side of the sayde village, little aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon hym, as it was mete for his callynge: espieng a priggar there standing, thinkinge the same to dwel there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande still for takynge of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe,) he would geue him a peny to drinke, and so wente about his busines. Thys peltynge priggar, proude of his praye, walketh hys horses vp and downe, till he sawe the gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye be goeth a mayne. This gentleman returning, and findyng not his horses, sente his man to the one ende of the village, & he went himselfe vnto the other ende, and enquired as he went for hys horses that were walked, and began somewhat to suspecte, because neither he nor his man coulde neyther see nor fynde him. Then this gentleman diligently enquired of three or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparel, and so manye linamentes of his body as he coulde call to remembraunce. And _vna voce_, all sayde that no such man dwelte in their streate, neither in the parish that they knewe of, but some did wel remember that suche a one they sawe there lyrkinge and huggeringe[CL] two houres before the gentleman came thether and a straunger to them. J had thought, quoth this gentleman, he had here dwelled, and marched home mannerly in his botes: farre from the place he dwelt not. J suppose at his comming home he sente such wayes as he suspected or thought mete to search for this prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tidinges againe of his palfreys. J had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture that J had amogst others, while this boke was first a printing."

At the end of the several characters, the author gives a list of the names of the most notorious thieves of his day, a collection of the cant phrases used by them, with their significations; and a dialogue between an _uprighte man_ and a _roge_, which I shall transcribe:--