ments, and
reads only those characters, where time hath eaten out the letters. He
will go you forty miles to see a saint's well or a ruined abbey; an
there be but a cross or stone foot-stool in the way, he'll be
considering it so long, till he forget his journey. His estate consists
much in shekels, and Roman coins; and he hath more pictures of Caesar,
than James or Elizabeth. Beggars cozen him with musty things which they
have raked from dung-hills, and he preserves their rags for precious
relics. He loves no library, but where there are more spiders' volumes
than authors', and looks with great admiration on the antique work of
cobwebs. Printed books he contemns, as a novelty of this latter age, but
a manuscript he pores on everlastingly, especially if the cover be all
moth-eaten, and the dust make a parenthesis between every syllable. He
would give all the books in his study (which are rarities all), for one
of the old Roman binding, or six-lines of Tully in his own hand. His
chamber is hung commonly with strange beasts' skins, and is a kind of
charnel-house of bones extraordinary; and his discourse upon them, if
you will hear him, shall last longer. His very attire is that which is
the eldest out of fashion, [[17] _and you may pick a criticism out of
his breeches_.] He never looks upon himself till he is grey-haired, and
then he is pleased with his own antiquity. His grave does not fright
him, for he has been used to sepulchres, and he likes death the better,
because it gathers him to his fathers.

A YOUNGER BROTHER.

His elder brother was the Esau, that came out first and left him like
Jacob at his heels. His father has done with him as Pharaoh to the
children of Israel, that would have them make brick and give them no
straw, so he tasks him to be a gentleman, and leaves him nothing to
maintain it. The pride of his house has undone him, which the elder's
knighthood must sustain, and his beggary that knighthood. His birth and
bringing up will not suffer him to descend to the means to get wealth;
but he stands at the mercy of the world, and which is worse, of his
brother. He is something better than the serving-men; yet they more
saucy with him than he bold with the master, who beholds him with a
countenance of stern awe, and checks him oftener than his liveries. His
brother's old suits and he are much alike in request, and cast off now
and then one to the other. Nature hath furnished him with a little more
wit