SATIRE X.

THE

Argument.

HE subject of this inimitable Satire is the Vanity of Human Wishes. The poet takes his stand on the great theatre of the world, and summons before him the illustrious characters of all ages. As they appear in succession, he shews, from the principal events of their lives, how little happiness is promoted, by the attainment of what our indistinct and bounded views represent, as the most perfect of earthly blessings. Of these, he instances wealth, power, eloquence, military glory, and personal accomplishments; all of which have, as he observes, proved dangerous or destructive to their respective possessors. From hence, he argues the wisdom of acquiescing in the dispensations of Heaven; and concludes with a form of prayer, in which he points out, with great force and beauty, the objects for which a rational being may presume to approach the Almighty.

The commentators suppose Juvenal to have had the second Alcibiades of Plato, or the Hunc Macrine diem, of Persius, in his thoughts; it is probable he had both: he has taken nothing from them, however, but the general idea; the filling up is entirely his own, and it is done with a boldness of imagery, an awful and impressive sublimity of style and manner, of which it would perhaps be difficult to find another example in any merely human composition.

Tt

SATIRE X.

IN

v. 1-13.

every clime, from Ganges' distant stream
To Gades, gilded by the western beam,
Few, from the clouds of mental error free,
In its true light, or good or evil, see.-

For what, with reason, do we seek or shun?
What plan, how happily soe'er begun,

That, when achiev'd, we do not wish undone ?
The gods have heard, with too indulgent ears,
And crush'd whole families beneath their prayers.
Bewilder'd thus, by folly or by fate,

We beg pernicious gifts in every state:
A copious tide, a full and rapid flow

Of eloquence, lays many a speaker low;

}

VER. 5. For what, with reason, do we seek or shun? &c.] This is beautifully alluded to by Shakspeare, who, without knowing any thing, perhaps, of our author, frequently falls into his train of thinking:

"We ignorant of ourselves,

"Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers

Deny us for our good; so find we profit

E'en strength itself is fatal; Milo tries

His wondrous arms, and in the trial dies.

But heaps of wealth have still more dangerous prov'd,
(Too anxiously amass'd, too fondly lov'd,)
Heaps, which o'er common fortunes proudly rise,
As o'er the dolphin towers the whale in size.
Hence, in those dreadful times, at Nero's word,
The ruffian bands unsheath'd the murderous sword,
Rush'd to the swelling coffers of the great,
And seiz'd the rich domain, and lordly seat;
While sweetly in their cock-lofts slept the poor,
And heard no soldier thundering at their door.
The traveller, freighted with a little wealth,
Sets forth at night, and makes his way by stealth;
E'en then, he fears the bludgeon and the blade,
And starts at every rush's waving shade:
While, void of care, the beggar trips along,

And, in the spoiler's presence, trolls his song.

His wondrous arms, &c.] The story of Milo is told in two words

by Roscommon:

.66

Remember Milo's end,

"Wedg'd in the timber which he strove to rend."

VER, 26. The traveller, &c.] Pauca licèt portes, &c. This, which all the translators take for an imaginary case, I believe to be an historical fact. The poet is still speaking of Nero's time, and he alludes to the cautious practice of those who, being in possession of a few valuables, wished to remove them without being seen:-nocte iter ingressus; even thus, they trembled for their safety. The rapacity of Nero is again noticed in the twelfth Satire, which see.