were made, and sacrifices offered by the native. Persius commending the purity of his friend's vows, descends to the impious and immoral requests of others. The satire is divided into three parts. The first is the exordium to Macrinus, which the poet confines within the compass of four verses. The second relates to the matter of the prayers and vows. and an enumeration of those things, wherein men commonly sinned against right reason, and offended in their requests. The third part consists in showing the repugnancies of those prayers and wishes, to those of other men, and inconsistencies with themselves. He shows the original of these vows, and sharply inveighs against them; and lastly, not only corrects the false opinion of mankind concerning them, but gives the true doctrine of all addresses made to Heaven, and how they may be made acceptable to the Powers above, in excellent precepts, and more worthy of a Christian than a Heathen.

LET this auspicious morning be exprest
With a white stone,* distinguish'd from the

rest:

White as thy fame, and as thy honour clear;
And let new joys attend on thy new added year.
Indulge thy genius, and o'erflow thy soul,
Till thy wit sparkle, like the cheerful bowl.
Pray; for thy prayers the test of heaven will
bear;

Nor need'st thou take the gods aside, to hear:
While others, e'en the mighty men of Rome,
Big swell'd with mischief, to the temples come;
And in low murmurs, and with costly smoke,
Heaven's help, to prosper their black vows, in-
voke,

So boldly to the gods mankind reveal
What from each other they, for shame, conceal.
Give me good fame, ye Powers, and make
me just:

Thus much the rogue to public ears will trust;
In private then: When wilt thou, mighty

Jove,

My wealthy uncle from this world remove?
Or-O thou Thunderer's son, great Hercules,
That once thy bounteous deity would please
To guide my rake, upon the chinking sound
Of some vast treasure, hidden under ground!

O were my pupil fairly knock'd o' the head
I should possess the estate, if he were dead!
He's so far gone with rickets, and with the evil,
That one small dose will send him to the devil.
This is my neighbour Nerius his third spouse,
Of whom in happy time he rids his house.
But my eternal wife!-Grant heaven I may
Survive to see the fellow of this day!
Thus, that thou mayest the better bring about
Thy wishes, thou art wickedly devout:

*White stone] The Romans were used to mark their fortunate days, or any thing that luckily befell them, with a white stone which they had from the and Creta: and their unfortunate with a coal.

In Tyber ducking thrice, by break of day,
To wash the obscenities of night away.†
But pr'y thee tell me, ('t is a small request)
With what ill thoughts of Jove art thou possest?
Wouldst thou prefer him to some man? Sup-

pose

I dipp'd among the worst, and Staius chose?
Which of the two would thy wise head declare
The trustier tutor to an orphan heir?

Or, put it thus:-Unfold to Staius, straight,
What to Jove's ear thou didst impart of late:
He'll stare, and, O good Jupiter! will cry;
Canst thou indulge him in this villany! [then,
And think'st thou, Jove himself, with patience
Can hear a prayer condemn'd by wicked men?
That, void of care, he lolls supine in state,
And leaves his bus'ness to be done by fate?
Because his thunder splits some burly tree,
And is not darted at thy house and thee?
Or that his vengeance falls not at the time,
Just at the perpetration of thy crime:
And makes thee a sad object of our eyes,
Fit for Ergenna's pray'r and sacrifice ?
What well-fed offering to appease the god,
What powerful present to procure a nod,
Hast thou in store? What bribe hast thou pre-
par'd,

To pull him, thus unpunish'd, by the beard.
Our superstitions with our life begin,
The obscene old grandam, or thy next of kin,
The new-born infant from the cradle takes,
And first of spittle a lustration makes :
Then in the spawl her middle finger dips,
Pretending force of magic to prevent,
Anoints the temples, forehead, and the lips,
By virtue of her nasty excrement.
Then dandles him with many a mutter'd prayer
That heaven would make him some rich miser's
Lucky to ladies, and, in time, a king; [heir.
Which to ensure, she adds a length of navel-

string.

But no fond nurse is fit to make a prayer:
And Jove, if Jove be wise, will never hear
Not though she prays in white, with lifted hands:
A body made of brass the crone demands
For her lov'd nursling, strung with nerves of
wire,

Tough to the last, and with no toil to tire:
Unconscionable vows, which when we use,
We teach the gods, in reason, to refuse.

↑ The ancients thought themselves tainted and polluted by night itself, as well as bad dreams in the night, and therefore purified themselves by washing their heads and hands every morning; which custom the Turks observe to this day.

When any one was thunderstruck, the soothsayer (who is here called Ergenna) immediately repaired to the place to expiate the displeasure of the gods, by sacrificing two sheep.

Thou measur'st by thyself the Powers Divine; Thy gods are burnish'd gold, and silver is their Thy puny godlings of inferior race, [shrine. Whose humble statues are content with brass, Should some of these, in visions purg'd from phlegm,

Foretell events, or in a morning dream

E'en those thou wouldst in veneration hold;
And, if not faces, give 'em beards of gold.
The priests in temples, now no longer care
For Saturn's brass,* or Numa's earthenware;†
Or vestal urns, in each religious rite
This wicked gold has put 'em all to flight.
O souls, in whom no heavenly fire is found,
Fat minds, and ever groveling on the ground!
We bring our manners to the blest abodes,
And think what pleases us must please the gods.
Of oil and cassia one the ingredients takes,
And, of the mixture, a rich ointment makes:
Another finds the way to dye in grain: [stain;
And make Calabrian wool receive the Tyrian
Or from the shells their orient treasure takes,
Or, for their golden ore, in rivers rakes;
Then melts the mass: all these are vanities!
Yet still some profit from their pains may rise:
But tell me, priest, if I may be so bold,
What are the gods the better for this gold?
The wretch that offers from his wealthy store
These presents, bribes the Powers to give him

more:

• For Saturn's brass, &c.] Brazen vessels, in which the public treasure of the Romans was kept.

Numa's earthenware] Under Numa, the second king of Rome, and for a long time after him, the holy vessels for sacrifice were of earthenware.

As maids to Venus offer baby-toys,
To bless the marriage-bed with girls and boys.
But let us for the gods a gift prepare,

Which the great man's great chargers cannot bear:

A soul, where laws both human and divine,
In practice more than speculation shine:
A genuine virtue, of a vigorous kind,
Pure in the last recesses of the mind:
When with such offerings to the gods I come,
A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb.

THE THIRD SATIRE OF PERSIUS.§

THE ARGUMENT.

Our author has made two satires concerning study; the first and the third: the first related to men; this to young students, whom he desired to be educated in the Stoic philosophy: he himself sustains the person of the master, or preceptor, in this admirable satire, where he upbraids the youth of sloth, and negligence in learning. Yet he begins with one scholar reproaching his fellow students with late rising to their books. After which he takes upon him the other part, of the teacher. And addressing himself particularly to young noblemen, tells them, that by reason of their high birth, and the great possessions of their fathers, they are careless of adorning their minds with precepts of moral philosophy: and withal, inculcates to them the miseries which will attend them in the whole course of their life, if they do not apply themselves betimes to the knowledge of virtue, and the end of their creation, which he pathetically insinuates to them. The title of this satire, in some ancient manuscripts, was, The Reproach of Idleness; though in others of the scholiasts it is inscribed, Against the Luxury and Vices of the Rich. In both of which the intention of the poet is pursued; but principally in the for

mer.

Is this thy daily course? The glaring sun
Breaks in at every chink: the cattle run
To shades, and noontide rays of summer shun,
Yet plung'd in sloth we lie; and snore supine,
As fill'd with fumes of undigested wine.

This grave advice some sober student bears;
And loudly rings it in his fellow's ears.
The yawning youth, scarce half awake, essays
His lazy limbs and dozy head to raise :
Then rubs his gummy eyes, and scrubs his pate
And cries, I thought it had not been so late :

As maids to Venus, &c.] Those baby-toys were little babies, or poppets, as we call them; in Latin pupae; which the girls, when they came to the age of puberty, or child-bearing, offered to Venus; as the boys at fourteen or fifteen years of age offered their bullæ, or bosses.

5 I remember I translated this satire, when I was a King's scholar at Westminster-school, for a Thursday-night's Exercise; and believe that it, and many other of my Exercises of this nature, in English verse, are still in the hands of my learned master, the Reverend Doctor Busby.

My clothes, make haste: why when! if none be

near,

He mutters first, and then begins to swear: And brays aloud, with a more clamorous note, Than an Arcadian ass can stretch his throat. With much ado, his book before him laid,

And parchment with the smoother side display'd;

He takes the papers; lays 'em down again;
And, with unwilling fingers, tries the pen :

Some peevish quarrel straight he strives to pick;

His quill writes double, or his ink's too thick;
Infuse more water; now 't is grown so thin,
It sinks, nor can the character be seen.

O wretch, and still more wretched every day!
Are mortals born to sleep their lives away?
Go back to what thy infancy began,
Thou who wert never meant to be a man:
Eat pap and spoon-meat; for thy gewgaws cry:
Be sullen, and refuse the lullaby.

No more accuse thy pen: but charge the

crime

On native sloth, and negligence of time. Think'st thou thy master, or thy friends, to cheat?

Fool, 't is thyself, and that's a worse deceit.
Beware the public laughter of the town
Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown.
A flaw is in thy ill-bak'd vessel found;
'T is hollow, and returns a jarring sound.

Yet, thy moist clay is pliant to command; Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould; now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel.

But thou hast land; a country seat secure By a just title; costly furniture; A fuming-pan thy Lares to appease :* What need of learning when a man's at ease? If this be not enough to swell thy soul, Then please thy pride, and search the herald's roll,

Where thou shalt find thy famous pedigree Drawn from the root of some old Tuscan tree; And thou, a thousand off, a fool of long degree. Who, clad in purple, canst thy censor greet; And, loudly, call him cousin in the street.

Such pageantry be to the people shown; There boast thy horse's trappings, and thy own: I know thee to thy bottom; from within Thy shallow centre, to thy outmost skin: Dost thou not blush to live so like a beast, So trim, so dissolute, so loosely drest?

A fuming pan, &c. Before eating, It was custommary, to cut off some part of the meat, which was first put into a pan, or little dish; then into the fire; as an offering to the household gods; this they called libation.

But 't is in vain: the wretch is drench'd too His soul is stupid, and his heart asleep; [deep :Fatten'd in vice; so callous, and so gross, He sins, and sees not; senseless of his loss. Down goes the wretch at once, unskill'd to swim, Hopeless to bubble up, and reach the water's brim.

Great father of the gods, when, for our crimes, Thou send'st some heavy judgment on the times;

Some tyrant king, the terror of his age,
The type, and true vicegerent of thy rage;
Thus punish him: Set virtue in his sight,
With all her charms adorn'd, with all her graces
bright:

But set her distant, make him pale to see
His gains outweigh'd by lost felicity!

Sicilian tortures and the brazen bull,t
Are emblems, rather than express the full
Of what he feels: yet what he fears is more:
The wretch, who sitting at his plenteous board,
Look'd up, and view'd on high the pointed
sword

Hang o'er his head, and hanging by a twine,
Did with less dread, and more securely dine.
E'en in his sleep he starts, and fears the knife,
And, trembling, in his arms takes his accom-
plice wife:
[friend
Down, down he goes; and from his darling
Conceals the woes his guilty dreams portend,
When I was young, I, like a lazy fool,
Would blear my eyes with oil to stay from
school:

Averse from pains, and loth to learn the part
Of Cato, dying with a dauntless heart:
Though much my master that stern virtue
prais'd,
[rais'd;
Which over the vanquisher the vanquish'd
And my pleas'd father came with pride to see
His boy defend the Roman liberty.

But then my study was to cog the dice,
And dexterously to throw the lucky sice:
To shun ames-ace, that swept my stakes away;
And watch the box, for fear they should convey
False bones, and put upon me in the play.
Careful, besides, the whirling top to whip,
And drive her giddy, till she fell asleep.

Thy years are ripe, nor art thou yet to learn What's good or ill, and both their ends discern;

• Sicilian tortures, &c.] Some of the Sicilian kings were so great tyrants, that the name is become proverbial.

The wretch, who sitting, &c.] He alludes to the story of Damocles, a flatterer of one of those Sicilian tyrants, namely Dionysius. Damocles had infinitely extolled the happiness of kings. Dionysius, to convince him of the contrary, invited him to a feast, and clothed him in purple; but caused a sword with the point downward, to be hung over his head, by a silken twine; which, when he perceived, he could eat nothing of the delicates that were set before him.

Amidst his cups with fainting shivering seiz'd,
His limbs disjointed, and all o'er diseas'd,
His hand refuses to sustain the bowl:
And his teeth chatter, and his eyeballs roll:
Till, with his meat, he vomits out his soul:
Then trumpets, torches, and a tedious crew
Of hireling mourners, for his funeral due.
Our dear departed brother lies in state,

His heel stretch'd out, and pointing to the gate:

And slaves, now manumiz'd, on their dead master wait.

They hoist him on the bier, and deal the dole And there's an end of a luxurious fool.

But what's thy fulsome parabie to me? My body is from all diseases free: My temperate pulse does regularly beat; Feel, and be satisfied, my hands and feet: These are not cold, nor those opprest with heat. Or lay thy hand upon my naked heart, And thou shalt find me hale in every part.

I grant this true : but, still, the deadly wound Is in thy soul; 't is there thou art not sound. Say, when thou seest a heap of tempting gold, Or a more tempting harlot dost behold;" Then, when she casts on thee a sidelong glance, Then try thy heart, and tell me if it dance.

Some coarse cold salad is before thee set; Bread, with the bran perhaps, and broken meat;

Fall on, and try thy appetite to eat.
These are not dishes for thy dainty tooth:
What, hast thou got an ulcer in thy mouth?
Why stand'st thou picking? Is thy palate sore?
That bete and radishes will make thee roar?
Such is the unequal temper of thy mind;
Thy passion in extremes, and unconfin'd:
Thy hair so bristles with unmanly fears,
As fields of corn, that rise in bearded ears.
And, when thy cheeks with flushing fury glow,
The rage of boiling caldrons is more slow
When fed with fuel and with flames below.
With foam upon thy lips, and sparkling eyes,
Thou say'st and dost in such outrageous wise:
That mad Orestes, if he saw the show,
Would swear thou wert the madder of the

two.

THE FOURTH SATIRE OF PERSIUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

Our author, living in the time of Nero, was contemporary and friend to the noble poet Lucan; both of them were sufficiently sensible, with all good men, how unskilfully be managed the commonwealth and perhaps might guess at his fu ture tyranny, by some passages, during the latter part of his first five years; though he broke not out into his great excesses, while he was restrained by the counsels and authority of Seneca. Lucan has not spared him in the poem of his Pharsalia: for his very compliment looked asquint, as well as Nero. Persius has been bolder, but with caution likewise. For here, in the person of young Alcibiades, he arraigns his ambition of meddling with state affairs, without judgment or experience. It is probable that he makes Seneca, in this satire, sustain the part of Socrates, under a borrowed name. And, withal, discovers some secret vices of Nero, concerning his lust, his drunkenness, and his effeminacy, which had not yet arrived to public notice. He also reprehends the flattery of his courtiers, who endeavoured to make all his vices pass for virtues. Covetousness was undoubtedly none of his faults; but it is here described as a veil cast over the true meaning of the poet, which was to satirize his prodigality and voluptuousness to which he makes a transition. I find no instance in history of that emperor's being a Pathique, though Persius seems to brand him with it. From the two dialogues of Plato, both called Alcibiades, the poet took the arguments of the second and third satires, but he inverted the order of them for the third satire is taken from the first of those dialogues.

The commentators before Casaubon were ignorant of our author's secret meaning; and thought he had only written against young noblemen in general, who were too forward in aspiring to public magistracy: but this excellent scholiast has unravelled the whole mystery; and made it apparent, that the sting of this satire was particularly aimed at Nero.

WHOE'ER thou art, whose forward years are bent

On state affairs, to guide the government;
Hear, first, what Socrates of old has said
To the lov'd youth, whom he, at Athens, bred.
Tell me, thou pupil to great Pericles,
Our second hope, my Alcibiades,
What are the grounds, from whence thou dost

prepare

To undertake so young, so vast a care? Perhaps thy wit: (a chance not often heard, That parts and prudence should prevent the beard :)

'T is seldom seen, that senators so young Know when to speak, and when to hold their

tongue.

Sure thou art born to some peculiar fate;
When the mad people rise against the state,
To look them into duty; and command
An awful silence with thy lifted hand.
Then to bespeak 'em thus: Athenians, know
Against right reason all your counsels go;