his own mystery, and therefore in conscience must recompense the buyer's loss, except he gives him an item to buy it at his own adven

ture.

s;

He either tells the faults in his ware, or abates proportionably in the price he demands for then the low value shows the viciousness of it. Yet, commonly, when merchants depart with their commodities, we hear (as in funeral orations) all the virtues but none of the faults thereof.

He never demands out of distance of the price he intends to take: if not always within the touch, yet within the reach of what he means to sell for. Now, we must know there be four several prices of vendible things. First, the price of the market, which ebbs and flows according to the plenty or scarcity of coin, commodities, and chapmen. Secondly, the price of friendship, which perchance is more giving than selling, and therefore not so proper at this time. Thirdly, the price of fancy, as twenty pounds or more for a dog or hawk, when no such inherent worth can naturally be in them, but by the buyer's and seller's fancy reflecting on them. Yet I believe the money may be lawfully taken. First, because the seller sometimes on those terms is as loath to forego it as the buyer is willing to have it; and I know no standard herein whereby men's affec

tions may be measured. Secondly, it being a matter of pleasure, and men able and willing, let them pay for it: volenti non fit injuria. Lastly, there is the price of cozenage, which our merchant from his heart detests and abhors.

He makes not advantage of his chapman's ignorance, chiefly if referring himself to his honesty; where the seller's conscience is all the buyer's skill, who makes him both seller and judge, so that he doth not so much ask as order what he must pay. When one told old Bishop Latimer that the cutler had cozened him in making him pay twopence for a knife not (in those days) worth a penny, -" No," quoth Latimer, "he cozened not me, but his own conscience." On the other side, St. Augustine tells us of a seller who out of ignorance asked for a book far less than it was worth, and the buyer (conceive himself to be the man if you please) of his own accord gave

him the full value thereof.

He makes not the buyer pay the shot for his prodigality; as when the merchant, through his own ignorance or ill husbandry, hath bought dear, he will not bring in his unnecessary expenses on the buyer's score; and in such a case he is bound to sell cheaper than he bought.

Selling by retail, he may justify the taking of greater gain; because of his care, pains, and

cost of fetching those wares from the fountain, and in parcelling and dividing them. Yet, because retailers trade commonly with those who have least skill what they buy, and commonly sell to the poorer sort of people, they must be careful not to grate on their necessity.

But how long shall I be retailing out rules to this merchant? It would employ a casuist an apprenticeship of years: take our Saviour's wholesale rule, "Whatsoever ye would have men do unto you, do you unto them; for this is the Law and the Prophets."

Is

THE GOOD YEOMAN.

S a gentleman in ore, whom the next age may see refined; and is the wax capable of a gentle impression, when the prince shall stamp it. Wise Solon (who accounted Tellus the Athenian the most happy man for living privately on his own lands) would surely have pronounced the English yeomanry a fortunate. condition, living in the temperate zone, betwixt greatness and want,-an estate of people almost peculiar to England. France and Italy are like a die which hath no points between cinq and ace, nobility and peasantry. Their walls, though high, must needs be hollow, wanting

filling-stones. Indeed, Germany hath her boors, like our yeomen, but, by a tyrannical appropriation of nobility to some few ancient families, their yeomen are excluded from ever rising higher to clarify their bloods. In England the temple of honor is bolted against none who have passed through the temple of virtue; nor is a capacity to be gentle denied to our yeoman who thus behaves himself.

He wears russet clothes, but makes golden payment, having tin in his buttons, and silver in his pocket. If he chance to appear in clothes above his rank, it is to grace some great man with his service, and then he blusheth at his own bravery. Otherwise, he is the surest landmark, whence foreigners may take aim of the ancient English customs; the gentry more floating after foreign fashions.

In his house he is bountiful both to strangers and poor people. Some hold, when hospitality died in England, she gave her last groan amongst the yeomen of Kent. And still at our yeoman's table you shall have as many joints as dishes: no meat disguised with strange sauces; no straggling joint of a sheep in the midst of a pasture of grass, beset with sallads on every side; but solid substantial food: no servitors (more nimble with their hands than the guests with their teeth) take away meat before stomachs are taken away. Here you

have that which in itself is good, made better by the store of it, and best by the welcome to it.

He hath a great stroke in making a knight of the shire. Good reason; for he makes a whole line in the subsidy book, where whatsoever he is rated he pays, without any regret, not caring how much his purse is let blood, so it be done by the advice of the physicians of the state.

He seldom goes far abroad, and his credit stretcheth further than his travel. He goes not to London, but se defendendo, to save himself of a fine, being returned of a jury, where, seeing the king once, he prays for him ever afterwards.

In his own country he is a main man in juries, where, if the judge please to open his eyes in matter of law, he needs not be led by the nose in matters of fact. He is very observant of the judge's "item," when it follows the truth's imprimis; otherwise, (though not mutinous in a jury,) he cares not whom he displeaseth, so he pleaseth his own conscience.

He improveth his land to a double value by his good husbandry. Some grounds that wept with water, or frowned with thorns, by draining the one and clearing the other, he makes both to laugh and sing with corn. By marl and limestones burnt, he bettereth his ground, and