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 strait rule set virtue in my sight,
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 souls, our horoscope was one : Whether the mounting Twins did heaven adorn, Or, with the rising Balance we were born; Both have the same impressions from above; And both have Saturn's rage, repell'd by Jove. What star I know not, but some star I find, Has given thee an ascendant o'er my mind.

COR. Nature is ever various in her frame
Each has a different will, and few the same:
The greedy merchants, led by lucre, run
To the parch'd Indies, and the rising sun;
From thence hot pepper and rich drugs they
bear,

Bartering for spices their Italian ware;
The lazy glutton safe at home will keep,
Indulge his sloth, and batten with his sleep:
One bribes for high preferments in the state;
A second shakes the box, and sits up late:
Another shakes the bed, dissolving there,
Till knots upon his gouty joints appear,
And chalk is in his crippled fingers found;
Rots like a dodder'd oak, and piecemeal falls to
ground;

Then his lewd follies he would late repent;
And his past years, that in a mist were spent.
PER. But thou art pale, in nightly studies,

grown,

To make the Stoic institutes thy own; Thou long, with studious care, hast till'd our youth,

And sown our well-purg'd ears with wholesome truth.

From thee both old and young, with profit, learn The bounds of good and evil to discern.

COR. Unhappy he who does this work adjourn,

And to to-morrow would the search delay:
His lazy morrow will be like to-day.

PER. But is one day of ease too much to borrow?

COR. Yes, sure: for yesterday was once to

morrow.

That yesterday is gone, and nothing gain'd: And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain'd;

For thou hast more to-morrows yet to ask,
And wilt be ever to begin thy task;
Who, like the hindmost chariot-wheels, art curst,
Still to be near, but ne'er to reach the first.

O freedom! first delight of human kind!
Not tha which bondmen from their masters find,
The privilege of doles :* not yet to inscribe
Their names in this or t' other Roman tribe :†
That false enfranchisement with ease is found:
Slaves are made citizens by turning round.
How, replies one, can any be more free?
Here's Dama, once a groom of low degree,
Not worth a farthing, and a sot beside
So true a rogue, for lying's sake he lied:
But, with a turn, a freeman he became ;
Now Marcus Dama is his worship's name.§
Good gods! who would refuse to lend a sum
If wealthy Marcus surety will become!
Marcus is made a judge, and for a proof
Of certain truth, He said it, is enough.
A will is to be prov'd; put in your claim,
'T is clear, if Marcus has subscrib'd his name.
This is true liberty, as I believe;

What can we farther from our caps receive,T
Than as we please without control to live?
Not more to noble Brutus could belong.
Hold, says the Stoic, your assumption's wrong:
I grant true freedom you have well defin'd:
But, living as you list, and to your mind,
Are loosely tack'd, and must be left behind.
What! since the pretor did my fetters loose,
And left me freely at my own dispose,
May I not live without control and awe,
Excepting still the letter of the law.

Hear me with patience, while thy mind I
free

From those fond notions of false liberty:
'Tis not the pretor's province to bestow
True freedom; nor to teach mankind to know
What to ourselves, or to our friends we owe.
He could not set thee free from cares and strife,
Nor give the reins to a lewd vicious life:

When a slave was made free, he bad the privilege of a Roman born, which was to have a share in the donatives or doles of bread, &c. which were distributed by the magistrates among the people.

The Roman people was distributed into several tribes: he who was made free was enrolled into some one of them, and thereupon enjoyed the com. mon privileges of a Roman citizen.

The master, who intended to enfranchise a slave, carried him before the city pretor, and turned him round, using these words, "I will that this man be free."

Slaves had only one name before their freedom; after it they were admitted to a Prænomen, like our christened names; so Dama is now called Marcus Dama.

At the proof of a testament, the magistrates were to subscribe their names, as allowing the legality of

the will.

given them, in sign of their liberty. Slaves, when they were set free, had a cap

As well he for an ass a harp might string,
Which is against the reason of the thing;
For reason still is whispering in your ear,
Where you are sure to fail, the attempt forbear.
No need of public sanctions this to bind,
Which Nature has implanted in the mind:
Not to pursue the work, to which we 're not de-
sign'd.

Unskill'd in hellebore, if thou shouldst try
To mix it, and mistake the quantity,
The rules of physic would against thee cry.
The high-shoed ploughman should he quit the
land,

To take the pilot's rudder in his hand,
Artless of stars, and of the moving sand,
The gods would leave him to the waves and
wind,

And think all shame was lost in human kind. Tell me, my friend, from whence hadst thou the skill,

So nicely to distinguish good from ill?
Or by the sound to judge of gold and brass,
What piece is tinker's metal, what will pass?
And what thou art to follow, what to fly
This to condemn, and that to ratify?
When to be bountiful, and when to spare
But never craving, or oppress'd with care?
The baits of gifts, and money to despise,
And look on wealth with undesiring eyes?
When thou canst truly call these virtues thine,
Be wise and free, by heaven's consent, and
mine.

But thou, who lately of the common strain,
Wert one of us, if still thou dost retain
The same ill habits, the same follies too,
Gloss'd over only with a saint-like show,
Then I resume the freedom which I gave,
Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.
Thou canst not wag thy finger, or begin
"The least light motion, but it tends to sin."
How's this? Not wag my finger, he replies?
No, friend; nor fuming gums, nor sacrifice,
Can ever make a madman free or wise.
"Virtue and Vice are never in one soul:
A man is wholly wise, or wholly is a fool."
A heavy bumpkin, taught with daily care, [air.
Can never dance three steps with a becoming
PER. In spite of this, my freedom still re-
[chains?

mains.

COR. Free! what, and fetter'd with so many Canst thou no other master understand Than him that freed thee by the pretor's wand ?* [now, Should he, who was thy lord, command thee With a harsh voice, and supercilious brow,

• The pretor held a wand in his hand, with which he softly struck the slave on the head when he declared him free.

To servile duties, thou wouldst fear no more
The gallows and the whip are out of door.
But if thy passion lord it in thy breast,
Art thou not still a slave, and still opprest?

Whether alone, or in thy harlot's lap,
When thou wouldst take a lazy morning's nap
Up, up, says Avarice; thou snor'st again,
Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st, but all in
vain;

The tyrant Lucre no denial takes;

At his commard the unwilling sluggard wakes: What must I do? he cries: What? says his lord:

Why rise, make ready, and go straight aboard:
With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight;
Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight
Of pepper, and Sabæan incense, take
With thy own hands, from the tir'd camel'sback:
And with post-haste thy running markets make.
Be sure to turn the penny: lie and swear;
'T is wholesome sin: but Jove, thou say'st, will
hear:

Swear, fool, or starve; for the dilemma's even:
A trademan thou! and hope to go to heaven?

Resolv'd for sea, the slaves thy baggage pack, Each saddled with his burden on his back; Nothing retards thy voyage, now unless, Thy other lord forbids, Voluptuousness: And he may ask this civil question: Friend, What dost thou make a shipboard? to what end?

Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free?
Stark, staring mad, that thou wouldst tempt the
sea?

Cubb'd in a cabin, on a mattrass laid
On a brown george, with lousy swabbers fed,
Dead wine, that stinks of the borrachio, sup
From a foul jack, or greasy maple-cup?
Say, wouldst thou bear all this, to raise thy

store

From six i' the hundred, to six hundred mora?
Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give ;
For, not to live at ease, is not to live;
Death stalks behind thee: and each flying hour
Does some loose remnant of thy life devour,
Live, while thou liv'st; for death will make us
all

A name, a nothing but an old wife's tale.

Speak; wilt thou Avarice, or Pleasure,

choose

To be thy lord? Take one, and one refuse. But both, by turns, the rule of thee will have; And thou, betwixt 'em both, wilt be a slave.

Nor think when once thou hast resisted one, That all thy marks of servitude are gone: The struggling greyhound gnaws his leash in vain;

If, when 't is broken, still he drags the chain.

Says Phædria to his man, Believe me, friend,*

To this uneasy love I'll put an end:
Shall I run out of all? My friends disgrace,
And be the first lewd unthrift of my race?
Shall I the neighbours' nightly rest invade
At her deaf doors, with some vile serenade?
Well hast thou freed thyself, his man replies,
Go, thank the gods, and offer sacrifice.
Ah, says the youth, if we unkindly part,
Will not the poor fond creature break her heart?
Weak soul! and blindly to destruction led!
She break her heart! she'll sooner break your
head.
[swear,
She knows her man, and when you rant and
Can draw you to her with a single hair:
But shall I not return? Now, when she sues?
Shall I my own, and her desires refuse?
Sir, take your course: but my advice is plain:
Once freed, 't is madness to resume your chain.
Ay; there's the man, who loos'd from lust
and pelf,

Less to the pretor owes, than to himself.

But write him down a slave, who, humbly proud
With presents begs preferments from the crowd;
That early suppliant, who salutes the tribes,
And sets the mob to scramble for his bribes;
That some old dotard, sitting in the sun,
On holydays may tell, that such a feat was done :
In future times this will be counted rare.

Thy superstition too may claim a share; When flowers are strew'd, and lamps in order plac'd,

And windows with illuminations grac'd,

On Herod's day; when sparkling bowls go round,

And tunny's tails in savoury sauce are drown'd, Thou mutter'st prayers obscene; nor durst refuse

The fasts and sabbaths of the curtail'd Jews.

Preach this among the brawny guards, say'st thou,

And see if they thy doctrine will allow;
The dull fat captain, with a hound's deep throat,
Would bellow out a laugh, in a base note,
And prize a hundred Zenos just as much
As a clipt sixpence, or a schilling Dutch.

THE SIXTH SATIRE OF PERSIUS.
TO CESIUS BASSUS, A LYRIC POET;
THE ARGUMENT.

This sixth satire treats an admirable common-place
of Moral Philosophy; of the true Use of Riches.
They are certainly intended, by the Power who
bestows them, as instruments and helps of living
commodiously ourselves, and of administering to
the wants of others who are oppressed by for-
tune. There are two extremes in the opinions of
men concerning them. One error, though on the
right hand, yet a great one, is, That they are no
helps to a virtuous life; The other places all our
happiness in the acquisition and possession of
them; and this is, undoubtedly, the worse ex-
treme. The mean betwixt these is the opinion of
the Stoics; which is, That riches may be useful
to the leading a virtuous life; in case we rightly
understand how to give according to right reason,
and how to receive what is given us by others.
The virtue of giving well is called Liberality; and
it is of this virtue that Persius writes in this satire,
wherein he not only shows the lawful use of
riches, but also sharply inveighs against the vices
which are opposed to it; and especially of those,
which consist in the defects of giving or spending,
or in the abuse of riches. He writes to Cæsius Bas-
sus, his friend, and a poet also. Inquires first of
his health and studies; and afterwards informs him
of his own, and where he is now resident.
gives an account of himself, that he is endeavour.
ing by little and little to wear off his vices; and
particularly, that he is combating ambition and the
desire of wealth. He dwells upon the latter vice;
and being sensible that few men either desire or
use riches as they ought, he endeavours to con-
vince them of their folly; which is the main de-
sign of the whole satire.

seat,

He

This alludes to the play of Terence, called the Eunuch, which was excellently imitated of late in English by Sir Charles Salley. In the first scene of that comedy, Phædria was introduced with this man Painphilus, discoursing, whether he should

leave his mistress Thaias, or return to her, now that she had invited him.

The ancients had a superstition, concerning eggshells; they thought that if an egg-shell were crack. ed, or hole bored in the bottom of it, they were subject to the power of sorcery.

sing

And seek, in Sabine air, a warm retreat?
Say, dost thou yet the Roman harp command?
Do the strings answer to thy noble hand?
Great master of the muse, inspir'd
The beauties of the first created spring;
The pedigree of nature to rehearse,
And sound the Maker's work, in equal verse.
Now sporting on thy lyre the loves of youth,
Now virtuous age, and venerable truth;
Expressing justly Sappho's wanton art
Of odes, and Pindar's more majestic part.

For me, my warmer constitution wants
More cold, than our Ligurian winter grants;
And therefore to my native shores retir'd,
I view the coast old Ennius once admir'd

Where clifts on either side their points display; And, after opening in an ampler way, Afford the pleasing prospect of the bay. Tis worth your while, O Romans, to regard The port of Luna, says our learned bard; Who, in a drunken dream, beheld his soul The fifth within the transmigrating roll; Which first a peacock, then Euphorbus was, Then Homer next, and next Pythagoras; And last of all the line did into Ennius pass. Secure and free from business of the state; And more secure of what the vulgar prate, Here I enjoy my private thoughts; nor care What rots for sheep the southern winds prepare: Survey the neighb'ring fields, and not repine. When I behold a larger crop than tnine: To see a beggar's brat in riches flow Adds not a wrinkle to my even brow; Nor, envious at the sight, will I forbear [cheer; My plenteous bowl, nor bate my bounteous Nor yet unseal the dregs of wine that stink Of cask; nor in a nasty flagon drink; Let others stuff their guts with homely fare: For men of different inclinations are ; [star. Though born, perhaps, beneath one common In minds and manners twins oppos'd we see In the same sign, almost the same degree: One, frugal, on his birth-day fears to dine, Does at a penny's cost in herbs repine, And hardly dares to dip his fingers in the brine. Prepar'd as priest of his own rites to stand, He sprinkles pepper with a sparing hand. His jolly brother, opposite in sense Laughs at his thrift; and, lavish of expense, Quaffs, crams, and guttles, in his own defence. For me, I'll use my own; and take my share Yet will not turbots for my slaves prepare ; Nor be so nice in taste myself to know If what I swallow be a thrush, or no. Live on thy annual income; spend thy store; And freely grind, from thy full threshing floor; Next harvest promises as much, or more.

Thus I would live ; but friendship's holy band, And offices of kindness hold my hand: My friend is shipwreck'd on the Brutian strand, His riches in the Ionian main are lost; And he himself stands shivering on the coast; Where, destitute of help, forlorn, and bare, He wearies the deaf gods with fruitless prayer. Their images, the relics of the wreck, Torn from the naked poop, are tided back By the wild waves, and rudely thrown ashore, Lie impotent; nor can themselves restore. The vessel sticks, and shows her open side, And on her shatter'd mast the mews in triumph ride. [store, From thy new hope, and from thy growing Now lend assistance, and relieve the poor.

Come; do a noble act of charity.
A pittance of thy land will set him free
Let him not bear the badges of a wrack,
Nor beg with a blue table on his back:"
Nor tell me that thy frowning heir will say
"T is mine that wealth thou squander'st thus
away:

What is 't to thee, if he neglect thy urn,
Or without spices lets thy body burn?t
If odours to thy ashes he refuse,
Or buys corrupted cassia from the Jews?
All these, the wiser Bestius will reply,
Are empty pomp, and dead men's luxury:
We never knew this vain expense, before
The effeminated Grecians brought it o'er :
Now toys and trifles from their Athens come;
And dates and pepper have unsinew'd Rome.
Our sweating hinds therr salads, now, defile,
Infecting homely herbs with fragrant oil.
But, to thy fortune be not thou a slave:
For what hast thou to fear beyond the grave?
And thou who gap'st for my estate, draw

The captive Germans, of gigantic size,*
Are rank'd in order, and are clad in frize :
The spoils of kings, and conquer'd camps we
boast,

Their arms in trophies hang on the triumphal post.

Now, for so many glorious actions done
In foreign parts, and mighty battles won :
For peace at home, and for the public wealth,
I mean to crown a bowl to Cesar's health:
Besides, in gratitude for such high matters,
Know I have vow'd two hundred gladiators.f
Say, wouldst thou hinder me from this expense?
I disinherit thee, if thou dar'st take offence,
Yet more, a public largess I design
Of oil and pies, to make the people dine;
Control me not, for fear I change my will.
And yet methinks I hear thee grumbling still,
You give as if you were the Persian king:
Your land does no such large revenues bring.
Well; on my terms thou wilt not be my heir:
If thou car'st little, less shall be my care:
Were none of all my father's sisters left;
Nay, were I of my mother's kin bereft;
None by an uncle's or a grandame's side,
Yet I could some adopted heir provide.
I need but take my journey half a day
From haughty Rome, and at Aricia stay,
Where fortune throws poor Manius in my way.
Him will I choose: What him, of humble birth,
Obscure, a foundling, and a son of earth?
Obscure? Why pr'y thee what am I? I know
My father, grandsire, and great grandsire too:
If farther I derive my pedigree,

I can but guess beyond the fourth degree.
The rest of my forgotten ancestors
Were sons of earth, like him, or sons of whores.
Yet why wouldst thou, old covetous wretch,
aspire

To be my heir, who might'st have been my sire?
In nature's race, shouldst thou demand of me
My torch, when I in course run after thee?
Think I approach thee like the god of gain,
With wings on head and heels, as poets feign:

The captive Germans, &c] He means only such as were to pass for Germans in the triumph; large-bolied men, as they are still, whom the Em press clothed new, with coarse garments, for the greater ostentation of the victory.

↑ Knor, I have vno'd tion hundred gladiators] A hundred pair of gladiators were beyond the purse of a private man to give; therefore this is only a threatening to his heir, that he could do what he pleased with his estate.

1 Shouldst thou demand of me my torch, &c.; Why shouldst thou who art an old fellow, hope to outlive me, and be my heir, who am much younger. He who was first in the course or race, delivered the torch, Whish he carried, to hin who was second.

VOL. I.-25

Thy modern fortune from my gift receive;
Now fairly take it, or as fairly leave.
But take it as it is, and ask no more.
What, when thou hast embezzled all thy store?
Where's all thy father left? 'T is true, I grant
Some I have mortgag'd, to supply my want:
The legacies of Tadius too are flown;
All spent, and on the selfsame errand gone.
How little then to my poor share will fall?
Little indeed; but yet that little's all.

Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone,
Be careful still of the main chance, my son
Put out the principal in trusty hands:
Live of the use; and never dip thy lands:
But yet what's left for me? What's left, my
Ask that again,and all the rest I spend. [friend!
Is not my fortune at my own command?
Pour oil, and pour it with a plenteous hand,
Upon my salads, boy: Shall I be fed
With sodden netties, and a sing'd sow's head?
'Tis holyday; provide me better cheer;
'Tis holyday, and shall be round the year.
Shall I my household gods and Genius cheat,
To make him rich, who grudges me my meat,
That he may loll at ease; and, pamper'd high,
When I am laid, may feed on giblet pie?
And when his throbbing lust extends the vein,
Have wherewithal his whores to entertain?
Shall I in homespun cloth be clad, that he
His paunch in triumph may before him see?
Go, miser, go; for lucre sell thy soul;
Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to
pole:
[gone,

That men may say, when thou art dead and
See what a vast estate he left his son!
How large a family of brawny knaves,
Well fed, and fat as Cappadocian slaves!§
Increase thy wealth, and double all thy store;
"Tis done: now double that, and swell the

score;

To every thousand add ten thousand more. Then say, Chrysippus,|| thou who wouldst con

fine

Thy heap, where I shall put an end to mine.

s Well fed, and fat as Cappadocian slaves] Who were famous for their lustiness, and being, as we call it, in good liking. They were set on a stal! when they were exposed to sale, to show the good habit of their body, and made to play tricks before the buyers, to show their activity and strength.

Then say, Chrysippus, &c.] Chrysippus, the Stoic, invented a kind of argument, consisting of more than three propositions, which is called Sorites, or a heap But as Chrysippus could never bring his propositions to a certain stint, so neither can a covetous man bring his craving desires to any certain measure of riches, beyond which he could not wish for any more.