A popular class of books in the 17th century were "characters" or "witty descriptions of the properties of sundry persons," such as the Good Schoolmaster, the Clown, the Country Magistrate; much as in some modern _Heads of the People_, where Douglas Jerrold or Leigh Hunt sketches the Medical Student, the Monthly Nurse, etc. A still more modern instance of the kind is George Eliot's _Impressions of Theophrastus Such_, which derives its title from the Greek philosopher, Theophrastus, whose character-sketches were the original models of this kind of literature. The most popular character-book in Europe in the 17th century was La Bruyere's _Caracteres_. But this was not published till 1688. In England the fashion had been set in 1614, by the _Characters_ of Sir Thomas Overbury, who died by poison the year before his book was printed. One of Overbury's sketches--the _Fair and Happy Milkmaid_--is justly celebrated for its old-world sweetness and quaintness. "Her breath is her own, which scents all the year long of June, like a new-made hay-cock. She makes her hand hard with labor, and her heart soft with pity; and when winter evenings fall early, sitting at her merry wheel, she sings defiance to the giddy wheel of fortune. She bestows her year's wages at next fair, and, in choosing her garments, counts no bravery in the world like decency. The garden and bee-hive are all her physic and surgery, and she lives the longer for it. She dares go alone and unfold sheep in the night, and fears no manner of ill, because she means none; yet to say truth, she is never alone, but is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts and prayers, but short ones. Thus lives she, and all her care is she may die in the spring-time, to have store of flowers stuck upon her winding-sheet." England was still merry England in the times of good Queen Bess, and rang with old songs, such as kept this milkmaid company; songs, said Bishop Joseph Hall, which were "sung to the wheel and sung unto the pail." Shakspere loved their simple minstrelsy; he put some of them into the mouth of Ophelia, and scattered snatches of them through his plays, and wrote others like them himself: Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song. That old and antique song we heard last night. Methinks it did relieve my passion much, More than light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain. The knitters and the spinners in the sun And the free maids that weave their threads with bones Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth[20] And dallies with the innocence of love Like the old age. [Footnote 20: Simple truth.]