"At length I fent my man of valour packing, « And a grave son of Physic fill'd his place : "My house now feem'd an hospital of Lazars, "And the vile beggar mangled without mercy, "A very hangman bath'd in human gore. "My Soldier was a prince compar'd to this, "For his were merry fibs; this fon of Death "Turn'd every thing he touch'd into a corpfe. "When Fortune, who had yet good store of spite, "Now coupled me to a most learn'd Philosopher; 66 Plenty of beard he had, a cloak withal,

Enough to fpare of each, and moral maxims "More than I could digeft, but money-none; "His fect abhorr'd it; 'twas a thing profcrib'd "By his philofophy, an evil root,

"And when I afk'd him for a tafte, 'twas poifon;
"Still I demanded it, and for the reason

"That he fo flightly priz'd it-all in vain―
"I could not wring a drachma from his clutches-
Defend me, Heaven! from all philofophers!"

SOTA DE S.

Sotades was a native Athenian, an elegant writer and in great favour with the theatre. I fhall present the reader with one of his fragments, which will be a ftrong contrast to the foregoing one, and which seems to prove, amongst many other inftances, how much the grave and fentimental comedy now began to be in fashion with the Athenians.

"Is there a man, juft, honest, nobly born ?— "Malice hall hunt him down. Does wealth attend

* him?

" Trouble

Trouble is hard behind-Confcience direct?"Beggary is at his heels: Is he an Artist ?"Farewell, repofe! An equal upright Judge "Report shall blaft his virtues: Is he ftrong?

Sickness shall fap his ftrength; account that day, "Which brings no new mifchance, a day of reft;

For what is man? what matter is he made of?. "How born? what is he and what fhall he be? "What an unnatural parent is this world,

To fofter none but villains, and destroy "All, who are benefactors to mankind! "What was the fate of Socrates ?-A prifon,

A dofe of poifon ; tried, condemn'd and kill'd: "How died Diogenes ?-As a dog dies, "With a raw morfel in his hungry throat : "Alas for Æfchylus! musing he walk'd,

"The foaring eagle dropt a tortoife down, "And-crush'd that brain, where Tragedy had birth : "A paltry grape-ftone choak'd the Athenian Bee: "Mastiffs of Thrace devour'd Euripides,

"And god-like Homer, woe the while! was ftarv’d— "Thus life, blind life teems with perpetual woes."

There is a melancholy grandeur in these fentiments with a fimplicity of expreffion, which prove to us that these authors occafionally digreffed from the gay fpirit of comedy into paffages not only of the moft ferious, but fublimeft caft; and I am perfuaded this fpecimen of the post Sotades, notwithstanding the difadvantages of tranflation, will ftrike the reader as an inftance in point. Where but one fragment is to be found of a writer's works, and that one of

fo

fo elevated a character, muft it not imprefs the mind with deep regret to think how many noble ftrains of poetry, how many elegant and brilliant turns of wit thefe compofitions would have furnifhed, had they come down to us entire? and may I not flatter myself, that as many as feel this regret, will look with candour upon these attempts?

STRA TON.

This poet fupplies us with the names of two comedies and the small bequeft of one fragment; it is however an acceptable one, being interesting as recounting part of a dialogue, which to a certain degree gives fome difplay of character, and alfo as being of a facetious, comic caft in the character of familiar life. The fpeaker is fome mafter of a family, who is complaining to his companion in the fcene of the whimfical, conceited humour of his cook—

"I've harbour'd a He-Sphinx and not a Cook, "For by the Gods he talk'd to me in riddles "And coin'd new words that pole me to interpret. "No fooner had he enter`d on his office, "Than, eyeing me from head to foot, he cries"How many mortals haft thou bid to fupper? "Mortals! quoth I, what tell you me of mortals ? "Let Jove decide on their mortality;

You're crazy fure; none by that name are bidden.

"No Table-Ufher? no one to officiate

"As Master of the Courses?—No fuch perfon; *Mofchion and Niceratus and Philinus,

These are my guests and friends, and amongst these You'll find no table-decker as I take it. "Gods! is it poffible? cried he: Moft certain "I patiently replied; He swell'd and huff`d, "As if forfooth I had done him heinous wrong, * And robb'd him of his proper dignity; "Ridiculous conceit!-What offering mak ft thou *To Er fichthon? he demanded: None"Shall not the wide-born'd ox be fell'd? cries he; "I facrifice no ox-Nor yet a wether? "Not I, by Jove; a fimple fheep perhaps : "And what's a wether but a sheep? cries he. "I'm a plain man, my friend, and therefore fpeak *Plain language :-What! I speak as Homer does And fure a cook may use like privilege "And more than a blind poet-Not with me; "I'll have no kitchen-Homers in my house;

"So pray discharge yourself!-This faid, we parted."

N° CVI.

4 med minɔf anew modw do ano THE OPHILUS?!

Dotud ROOD on over sw skq-dilo

THE fragments of this post, fupply me with a paffage upon the fertile,fubject of love, which is of very lively caft, and in a mifcellaneous collection like this certainly deferves to be received as one of the beauties of the Greek Rage

"If love be folly as the fchools wou'd prove, "The man muft lofe his, wits who falls in love; "Deny him love, you doom the wretch to death, And then it follows he must ult lofe his

"

breath.

Good footh! there is a young and dainty maid "I dearly love, a minstrel the by trade "What then? must I defere to pedant rule, ❝ And own that love transforms me me to a fool? "Not I, fo help me! By the Gods I swear, "The nymph I love is faireft of the fair; "Wife, witty, dearer to her poet's fight, "Than piles of money on an author's night; "Muft I nat love her then?

"Who made the law, obey it

Let the dull fot,

I will not.”