Offer themselves like incense on your altar,
Whose heart holds no intelligence, but holy
And most religious with his love, whose life
(And let it ever be remember'd, lady!)
Is drawn out only for your ends-

Val. Oh! miracle!

Fran. Whose all and every part of man, (pray mark me!)

Like ready pages, wait upon your pleasures,
Whose breath is but your bubble-can you, dare

you,

Must you, cast off this man, (tho' he were willing, Tho', in a nobleness to cross my danger,

His friendship durst confirm it), without baseness, Without the stain of honour?-Shall not people Say liberally hereafter, "There's the lady

"That lost her father, friend, herself, her faith

too,

"To fawn upon a stranger," for aught you know, As faithless as yourself-in love, as fruitless?

Val. Take her, with all my heart!-Thou art so honest,

That 'tis most necessary I be undone.

With all my soul possess her!

Cel. Till this minute

I scorn'd and hated you, and came to cozen you; Utter'd those things might draw a wonder on me, To make you mad.

Fran. Good heaven! what is this woman?

Cel. Nor did your danger, but in charity,

Move me a whit; nor you appear unto me
More than a common object: yet now, truly,
Truly, and nobly, I do love you dearly,

And from this hour you are the man I honour;
You are the man, the excellence, the honesty,
The only friend :-and I am glad your sickness
Fell so most happily at this time on you,
To make this truth the world's.

Fran. Whither d'you drive me?

Cel. Back to your honesty; make that good

ever;

'Tis like a strong built castle, seated high,
That draws on all ambitions; still repair it,

Still fortify it; there are thousand foes,
Besides the tyrant Beauty, will assail it:
Look to your centinels, that watch it hourly,
Your eyes-let them not wander!

Fran. Is this serious,

Or does she play still with me?

Cel. Keep your ears,

The two main ports that may betray you, strongly
From light belief first, then from flattery,
Especially where woman beats the parley;
The body of your strength, your noble heart,
From ever yielding to dishonest ends,

Ridg'd round about with virtue, that no breaches,
No subtle mines, may meet you!

Fran. How like the sun

Labouring in his eclipse, dark and prodigious,

She shew'd till now! When, having won his way, How full of wonder he breaks out again,

And sheds his virtuous beams! Excellent angel!
(For no less can that heav'nly mind proclaim thee,)
Honour of all thy sex! let it be lawful

(And like a pilgrim thus I kneel to beg it,
Not with profane lips now, nor burnt affections,
But, reconcil'd to faith, with holy wishes,)
To kiss that virgin hand!

Cel. Take your desire, sir,

And in a nobler way, for I dare trust you;
No other fruit my love must ever yield you,
I fear, no more!-Yet, your most constant memory
(So much I'm wedded to that worthiness)

Shall ever be my friend, companion, husband!
Farewell! and fairly govern your affections;

Stand, and deceive me not!-Oh, noble young

man!

I love thee with my soul, but dare not say it!
Once more, farewell, and prosper!→→→

SIR JOHN DAVIES.

BORN 1570.-DIED 1626.

SIR JOHN DAVIES wrote, at twenty-five years of age, a poem on the immortality of the soul; and at fifty-two, when he was a judge and a statesman, another on "the art of dancing." Well might the teacher of that noble accomplishment, in Moliere's comedy, exclaim, La philosophie est quelque chose mais la danse!

Sir John was the son of a practising lawyer at Tisbury, in Wiltshire. He was expelled from the Temple for beating Richard Martyn', who was afterwards recorder of London; but his talents redeemed the disgrace. He was restored to the Temple, and elected to parliament, where, although he had flattered Queen Elizabeth in his poetry, he distinguished himself by supporting the privileges of the house, and by opposing royal monopolies. On the accession of King James he went to Scotland with Lord Hunsdon, and was received by the new sovereign with flattering cordiality, as author of the poem Nosce teipsum. In Ireland he was successively nominated

A respectable man, to whom Ben Jonson dedicated his Poetaster.

solicitor and attorney-general, was knighted, and chosen speaker of the Irish House of Commons, in opposition to the Catholic interest. Two works which he published as the fruits of his observation in that kingdom, have attached considerable importance to his name in the legal and political history of Ireland'. On his return to England he sat in parliament for Newcastle-under-Lyne, and had assurances of being appointed chief justice of England, when his death was suddenly occasioned by apoplexy. He married, while in Ireland, Eleanor, a daughter of Lord Audley, by whom he had a daughter, who was married to Ferdinand Lord Hastings, afterwards Earl of Huntingdon. Sir John's widow turned out an enthusiast and a prophetess. A volume of her ravings was published in 1649, for which the revolutionary government sent her to the Tower, and to Bethlehem hospital.

THE VANITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE.

FROM NOSCE TEIPSUM, OR A POEM ON THE IMMORTALITY OF
THE SOUL.

WHY did my parents send me to the schools,
That I with knowledge might enrich my mind?
Since the desire to know first made men fools,
And did corrupt the root of all mankind.

1 The works are, "A discovery of the causes why Ireland was never subdued till the beginning of his majesty's reign," and "Reports of cases adjudged in the king's courts in Ireland."