The judicious Casaubon, in his proem to this fatire,

tells us, that Aristophanes the grammarian being asked, what poem of Archilochus his lambics be preferred before the rest ; answered, the longest. His answer may justly be applied to this fifth fatire ; which, being of a greater length than any of the rest, is also, by far, the most instructive: for this reason I have fele&ted it from all the others, and inscribed it to my learned master, Dr. Busby ; to which I am not only obliged myself for the best part of my own education, and that of my two fons; but have also received from him the first and truest taste of Perfus. May be be pleased to find in this transation, the gratitude, or at least some small acknowledgment of his unteor thy scholar, at the

distance of twenty four years, from the time when

1 departed from under bis tuition. This satire consists of two diftin&t parts: the first

contains the praises of the stoick philosopher Cornutus, master and tutor to our Perhus. It also declares the love and piety of Persius, to his welldeserving master; and the mutual friendship which continued betwixt them, after Perfius was now grown a man. As also his exhortation to young noblemen, that they would enter themselves into bis institution. From hence be makes an artful transition into the second part of his subječt : wlerein he first complains of the floth of scholars, and afterwards persuades them to the pursuit of their true liberty: bcre our author excellently treats that paradox of the Stoicks, which afirms, that the wife or virtuous man is only free; and that all vicious men are naturally saves. And, in the illustration of tbis dogma, be takes up the remaining part of this inimitable fatire.

THE

PERSIU S.
F ancient use to poets it belongs,
To wish themselves an hundred mouths

and tongues :
Whether to the well lung’d tragedian's rage
They recommend the labors of the stage,
Or fing the Parthian, when transfix'd he lies,
Wrenching the Roman jav'lin from his thighs.

CORNUTUS.
And why wouldstthouthese mighty morselschuse,
Of words unchew'd, and fit to choak the muse?
Let fuftian poets with their stuff be gone,
And suck the mists that hang o'er Helicon;
When Progne or Thyestes' feast they write;
And, for the mouthing actor, verse indite.
Thou neither, like a bellows, swell'st thy face;
As if thou wert to blow the burning mass

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Of melting ore; nor canst thou strain thy throat,
Or murmur in an undistinguish'd note,
Like rolling thunder till it breaks the cloud,
And rattling nonsense is discharg'd aloud.
Soft elocution does thy stile renown,
And the sweet accents of the peaceful gown:
Gentle or sharp, according to thy choice,
To laugh at follies or to lash at vice.
Hence draw thy theme, and to the stage permit
Raw-head and bloody-bones, and hands and feet,
Ragousts for Tereus or Thyestes drest;
'Tis task enough for thee t'expose a Roman feaft,

PERSIU S.
"Tis not, indeed, my talent to engage
In lofty trifles, or to swell my page
With wind and noise; but freely to impart,
As to a friend, the secrets of my heart;
And, in familiar speech, to let thee know
How much I love thee, and how much I owe.
Knock on my heart: for thou hast skill to find
If it sound solid, or be fill'd with wind;
And, thro the veil of words, thou view'st the

Yet never could be worthily exprest,
How deeply thou art feated in my

breast.
When first my childish robe refign’d the charge,
And left me, unconfin'd, to live at large;
When now my golden bulla (hung on high
To houshold Gods) declar'd me past a boy;
And
my

white shield proclaim'd my liberty:
When with

my wild companions, I could rowl
From street to street, and fin without controul;
Just at that age, when manhood set me free,
I then depos’d myself, and left the reins to thee.
On thy wise bosom I repos'd my head,
And by my better Socrates was bred.
Then thy streight rule set virtue in my sights
The crooked line reforming by the right.
My reason took the bent of thy command,
Was form'd and polish'd by thy skilful hand :
Long summer-days thy precepts I rehearse;
And winter-nights were short in our converse :
One was our labour, one was our repose,
One frugal supper did our studies close.

Sure on our birth some friendly planet shone ;
And, as our fouls, our horoscope was one:
Whether the mounting twins did heav'n adorn,
Or, with the rising balance we were born;

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