“A trusty servant’s portrait would you see, The emblematic figure well survey: The porker’s snout--not nice in diet shows; The padlock shut--no secrets he’ll disclose; Patient the ass, his master’s wrath to bear, Swiftness in errand--the stag’s feet declare; Loaded his left hand, apt to labour with, The vest his neatness; open hand his faith; Girt with his sword--his shield upon his arm, Himself and master he’ll protect from harm.” We pitied the man who rehearsed these hackneyed lines to every visitor, but hoped that to his ear they had a musical, or perhaps, as Shakespeare says, a silver sound. [Sidenote: Brasses.] In the College Chapel we have the original roof, and the brasses are exact reproductions of those formerly existing here; which, though carefully stored, were stolen when the pavement was undergoing repair some twenty years ago. Fortunately a boy with the suitable name of Freshfield had kept rubbings of them, and by these they have been restored. Warden Nicholas, though not a man of puritanical views, removed the screen. [Illustration: The College Chapel] The College was visited by Charles I., and when reverses came it was still safe, for Nicholas Love, the regicide, son of a warden of that name, exerted himself for its preservation, and Colonel Nathaniel Fiennes, who was an old Wykehamist, when Cromwell took possession of Winchester, placed a guard at the gates of the College to prevent any depredations. Poetic memories cluster richly around these old walls. Ken has been mentioned, and Otway should not be forgotten, but time ripened more abundant fruit. There was Young, to whom so many wise reflections came when-- “Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne In rayless majesty now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o’er a slumbering world.”