Robert Barret, the author of The theorike and practike of moderne warres (1598), must be added to the somewhat surprisingly long list of those who translated the poetry of Du Bartas. The translation exists in a manuscript neatly written in Barret's hand and signed by him several times. Owned by a Welsh watchmaker in the eighteenth century who used the margins and blank areas to jot down memoranda to himself, it came into the possession of the Earl of Powis and was acquired by the Folger Library in 1942. The manuscript is numbered up to page 292, although there are several pages missing at the beginning and one leaf has been torn out. This section is followed by sixty unnumbered pages, although again several pages have been lost.

Barret must have written the translation at or around the turn of the sixteenth century, for in a digression in praise of Queen Elizabeth he says that she has reigned ‘full Lustrae eight, and now thirde-yeerescommence.’

A Priest to the Temple, Herbert's handbook of practical wisdom for the country parson, is justly praised for directness and common sense. But there is one chapter in it which seems to belong to another kind of discourse–to belong to the hterature not of wisdom but of wit. This chapter, ‘The Parson's Library,’ has provoked the editorial comment that the contents ‘correspond so little with the title, except for elaborating a paradox, that the chapter is possibly misnamed.’ The paradox, however, is not restricted to the title, but is elaborated in the chapter itself: