The Knight.

The Knight is knowledge how to fight
Against his prince's enimies,
He neuer makes his walke outright,
But leaps and skips, in wilie wise,

To take by sleight a traitrous foe,
Might slilie seeke their ouerthrowe.
The Bishop.

The Bishop he is wittie braine,
That chooseth crossest pathes to pace,
And euermore he pries with paine,
To see who seekes him most disgrace:

Such straglers when he findes astraie
He takes them vp, and throwes awaie
The Rookes.

The Rookes are reason on both sides,
Which keepe the corner houses still,
And warily stand to watch their tides,
By secret art to worke their will,

To take sometime a theefe vnseene,
Might mischiefe meane to King or Queene.
The Pawnes.

The Pawne before the King, is peace,
Which he desires to keepe at home,
Practise, the Queene's which doth not cease
Amid the world abroad to roame,

To finde, and fall upon each foe,
Whereas his mistres meanes to goe.

Before the Knight, is perill plast,
Which he, by skipping ouergoes,
And yet that Pawne can worke a cast,
To ouerthrow his greatest foes;

The Bishop's prudence, prieng still
Which way to worke his master's will.

The Rooke's poore Pawnes, are sillie swaines,
Which seldome serue, except by hap,

And yet those Pawnes, can lay their traines,
To catch a great man, in a trap:

So that I see, sometime a groome
May not be spared from his roome.

The Nature of the Chesse Men.

The King is stately, looking hie;
The Queene doth beare like majestie:
The Knight is hardie, valiant, wise:
The Bishop prudent and precise.

The Rookes no raungers out of raie,
The Pawnes the pages in the plaie.

Lenvoy.

Then rule with care and quicke conceit,
And fight with knowledge, as with force;
So beare a braine, to dash deceit,
And worke with reason and remorse.

Forgive a fault when young men plaie,
So giue a mate, and go your way.
And when you plaie beware of checke,
Know how to saue and giue a necke
And with a checke beware of mate;
But cheefe, ware had I wist too late:
Loose not the Queene, for ten to one,
If she be lost the game is gone.

CCXXIX.

N. Breton, 1638.

Age, though it too often consists only in length of days, in having been longer than other men, not in the experiments of life above those who are much younger, is naturally censorious, and expects reverence and submission to their white hairs, which they cannot challenge to any rudiments or example which they have given to virtue; and superciliously censure all who are younger than themselves, and the vices of the present time as new and unheard of, when in truth they are the very same they practised, and practised as long as they, were able; they talk much of their observation and ex

perience, in order to be obeyed in things they understand not, and out of vanity and morosity contract a pride that never departs from them whilst they are alive, and they die in an opinion that they have left none wiser behind them, though they have left none behind them who ever had any esteem of their wisdom and judgment. Clarendon.

CCXXX.

As your painters, who deal in history pieces, often entertain themselves upon broken sketches, and smaller flourishes of the pencil; so I find some relief in striking out miscellaneous hints, and sudden starts of fancy, without any order or connection, after having spent myself on more regular and elaborate dissertations.-Tatler.

CCXXXI.

Love 's common unto all the mass of creatures,
As life and breath; honour to man alone:
Honour being then above life, dishonour must,
Be worse than death; for fate can strike but one;
Reproach doth reach whole families.

CCXXXII.

Cartwright.

Trade increases the wealth and glory of a country; but its real strength and stamina are to be looked for among the cultivation of the land. In their simplicity of life is found the simpleness of virtue-the integrity and courage of freedom. These true genuine souls of the earth are invincible; and they surround and hem in the mercantile bodies; even if these bodies, which supposition I totally disclaim, could be supposed disaffected to the cause of liberty.-Lord Chatham.

CCXXXIII.

Remember, that if thou marry for beauty, thou bindest thyself all thy life for that which perchance will neither last nor please thee one year! and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of no prize at all; for the desire dieth when it is attained, and the affection perisheth when it is satisfied.-Sir W. Raleigh-to his Son.

CCXXXIV.

From hence the rudiments of art began;
A coal or chalk first imitated man.
Perhaps, the shadow, taken on a wall,
Gave outlines to the rude original;

Ere canvass yet was stain'd, before the grace
Of blendid colours found their use and place,
Or cypress tablets first receiv'd a face.

By slow degrees the godlike art advanc'd,
As man grew polish'd picture was inhanc'd:
Greece added posture, shade, and perspective,
And then the mimic piece began to live.
Yet perspective was lame, no distance true,
But all came forward in one common view:
No point of light was known, no bounds of art;
When light was there, it knew not to depart,
But glaring on remoter objects play'd;
Not languished, and insensibly decay'd

Rome rais'd not art, but barely kept alive,
And with old Greece unequally did strive:
"Till Goths, and Vandals, a rude northern race,
Did all the matchless monuments deface.
Then all the muses in one ruin lie,
And rhyme began t' enervate poetry.
Thus in a stupid military state,

The pen and pencil find an equal fate.
Flat faces, such as would disgrace a skreen,
Such as in Bantam's embassy were seen,
Unrais'd, unrounded, were the rude delight
Of brutal nations, only born to fight.
Long time the sister arts in iron sleep,
A heavy Sabbath did supinely keep:
At length, in Raphael's age, at once they rise,
Stretch out their limbs, and open all their eyes.
Thence rose the Roman, and the Lombard line,
One coloured best, and one did best design.
Raphael's, like Homer's, was the nobler part,
But Titian's painting look'd like Virgil's art.

Dryden to Kneller-on the origin of Painting.

CCXXXV.

When the spirits are low, and nature sunk, the muse with sprightly and harmonious notes, gives an unexpected turn with a grain of poetry; which I prepare without the use of mercury. I have done wonders in this kind; for the spleen is like the tarantula, the effects of whose malignant poison are to be prevented by no other remedy but the charms of music; for you are to understand, that as some noxious animals carry antidotes for their own poisons, so there is something equally unaccountable in poetry; for though it is sometimes a disease, it is to be cured only by itself.-Tatler.

CCXXXVI.

The true danger is, when liberty is nibbled away, for expedients, and by parts.-Burke.

CCXXXVII.

Who would not be covetous, and with reason, if health could be purchased with gold? who not ambitious, if it where at the command of power, or restored by honour? But alas! a white staff will not help gouty feet to walk better then a common cane; nor a blue riband bind up a wound so well as a fillet; the glitter of gold or of diamonds will but hurt sore eyes, instead of curing them; and an aching head will be no more eased by wearing a crown than a common night-cap.-Sir W. Temple.

CCXXXVIII.

It is natural for us to exaggerate matters, and I believe I may without rashness assert, that those who have given us the most illustrious copies of friendship, never yet beheld the originals.-St. Evremond.

CCXXXIX.

Poesy must not be drawn by the ears, it must be gently led, or rather, it must lead, which was partly the cause that made the learned antient affirm; it was a divine, and no human skill, since all other knowledge is ready for any that have strength of wit. A poet no