me constancy. Her virtue continence, her labour patience, her diet
abstinence, and her care conscience. Her conversation heavenly, her
meditations angel-like, her prayers devout, and her hopes divine: her
parents' joy, her kindred's honour, her country's fame, and her own
felicity. She is the blessed of the highest, the praise of the
worthiest, the love of the noblest, and the nearest to the best. She is
of creatures the rarest, of women the chiefest, of nature the purest,
and of wisdom the choicest. Her life is a pilgrimage, her death but a
passage, her description a wonder, and her name an honour. In sum, she
is the daughter of glory, the mother of grace, the sister of love, and
the beloved of life.

A WANTON WOMAN.

A wanton woman is the figure of imperfection; in nature an ape, in
quality a wagtail, in countenance a witch, and in condition a kind of
devil. Her beck is a net, her word a charm, her look an illusion, and
her company a confusion. Her life is the play of idleness, her diet the
excess of dainties, her love the change of vanities, and her exercise
the invention of follies. Her pleasures are fancies, her studies
fashions, her delight colours, and her wealth her clothes. Her care is
to deceive, her comfort her company, her house is vanity, and her bed is
ruin. Her discourses are fables, her vows dissimulations, her conceits
subtleties, and her contents varieties. She would she knows not what,
and spends she cares not what, she spoils she sees not what, and doth
she thinks not what. She is youth's plague and age's purgatory, time's
abuse and reason's trouble. In sum, she is a spice of madness, a spark
of mischief, a touch of poison, and a fear of destruction.

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, showeth 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 toward 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 children's glass in the notes of her grace;
her servants' honour in the keeping of her house, and her neighbours'
example in the notes of