of riches. They are certainly intended, by the power who bestows them, as instruments and helps of living commodiously ourselves, and of administ'ring to the wants of others who are oppress'd by fortune. There are two extremes in the opinions of men concerning them. One error, tho' 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 extreme. 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 call'd liberality; and 't is of this virtue that Persius writes in this satire, wherein he not only shews the lawful use of riches, but also sharply inveighs against the vices which are oppos'd to it; and especially of those which consist in the defects of giving or spending, or in the abuse of riches. He writes to Casius Bassus, his friend, and a poet also; enquires first of his health and studies, and afterwards informs him of his own, and where he is now resident. He gives an account of himself, that he is endeavoring 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 endeavors to convince them of their folly; which is the main design of the whole satire.

HAS winter caus'd thee, friend, to change thy seat,

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 to sing
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; 10
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 re-
tir'd,

I view the coast old Ennius once admir'd;

4

And offices of kindness, hold my hand: 60 My friend is shipwreck'd on the Bruttian strand,

His riches in th' Ionian main are lost; And he himself stands shiv'ring on the coast;

Where, destitute of help, forlorn, and bare, He wearies the deaf gods with fruitless pray'r.

Their images, the relics of the wrack,
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 shews her open'd side,

70

And on her shatter'd mast the mews in triumph ride.

From thy new hope, and from thy growing

store,

Now lend assistance, and relieve the poor. Come, do a noble act of charity;

6

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:

""Tis mine, that wealth thou squander'st thus away."

What is 't to thee, if he neglects thy urn, 80
Or without spices lets thy body burn?
If odors 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 lux-
ury.'

We never knew this vain expense, before Th' effeminated Grecians brought it o'er: Now toys and trifles from their Athens

come,

And dates and pepper have unsinew'd Rome.

Cæsar salutes the queen and senate thus: My arms are on the Rhine victorious. From mourning altars sweep the dust away:

100

Cease fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving day."

The goodly empress," jollily inclin'd,
Is to the welcome bearer wondrous kind;
And, setting her good housewif'ry aside,
Prepares for all the pageantry of pride.
The captive Germans,10 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 110 In foreign parts, and mighty battles won; For peace at home, and for the public wealth,

I mean to crown a bowl to Cæsar's health: Besides, in gratitude for such high mat

ters,

EXPLANATORY NOTES ON THE SIXTH SATIRE

1 And seek, in Sabine air, &c. All the studious, and particularly the poets, about the end of August, began to set themselves on work, refraining from writing during the heats of the summer. They wrote by night, and sate up the greatest part of it; for which reason the product of their studies was call'd their elucubrations, or nightly labors. They who had country seats retir'd to them while they studied, as Persius did to his, which was near the Port of the Moon in Etruria; and Bassus to his, which was in the country of the Sabines, nearer Rome.

2 Now sporting on thy lyre, &c. This proves

Cæsius Bassus to have been a lyric poet. 'Tis said of him that by an eruption of the flaming mountain Vesuvius, near which the greatest part of his fortune lay, he was burnt himself, together with all his writings.

3 Who, in a drunken dream, &c. I call it a drunken dream of Ennius; not that my author in this place gives me any encouragement for the epithet, but because Horace and all who mention Ennius say he was an excessive drinker of wine. In a dream, or vision, call you it which you please, he thought it was reveal'd to him that the soul of Pythagoras was transmigrated into him; as Pythagoras before him believ'd that himself had been Euphorbus in the wars of Troy. Commentators differ in placing the order of this soul, and who had it first. I have here given it to the peacock, because it looks more according to the order of nature that it should lodge in a creature of an inferior species, and so by gradation rise to the informing of a man. And Persius favors me, by saying that Ennius was the fifth from the Pythagorean peacock.

4 My friend is shipwreck'd on, &c. Perhaps this is only a fine transition of the poet, to introduce the business of the satire; and not that any such accident had happen'd to one of the friends of Persius. But, however, this is the most poetical description of any in our author; and since he and Lucan were so great friends, I know not but Lucan might help him in two or three of these verses, which seem to be written in his style: certain it is, that besides this description of a shipwreck, and two lines more, which are at the end of the Second Satire, our poet has written nothing elegantly. I will therefore transcribe both the passages, to justify my opinion. The following are the last verses, saving one, of the Second Satire:

Compositum jus, fasque animi; sanctosque recessus Mentis, el incoctum generoso pectus honesto. The others are those in this present satire, which are subjoin'd:

trabe rupta, Bruttia sara

Prendit amicus inops : remque omnem, surdaque vota
Condidit Ionio, jacet ipse in littore, et una
Ingentes de puppe Dei, jamque obvia mergis
Costa ratis lacera.

5 From thy new hope, &c. The Latin is, Nunc et de cespite vivo frange aliquid. Casaubon only opposes the cespes vivus, which, word for word, is the living turf, to the harvest, or annual income; I suppose the poet rather means, sell a piece of land already sown, and give the money of it to my friend, who has lost all by shipwreck; that is, do not stay till thou hast reap'd, but help him immediately, as his wants require.

6 Not beg with a blue table, &c. Holyday translates it a green table. The sense is the same, for the table was painted of the sea-color, which the shipwreck'd person carried on his back, expressing his losses thereby, to excite the charity of the spectators.

7 Or without spices, &c. The bodies of the rich, before they were burnt, were imbalm'd with spices; or rather spices were put into the urn with the relics of the ashes. Our author here names cinnamum and cassia, which cassia was sophisticated with cherry gum, and probably enough by the Jews, who adulterate all things which they sell. But whether the ancients were acquainted with the spices of the Molucca Islands, Ceylon, and other parts of the Indies, or whether their pepper and cinnamon, &c., were the same with ours, is another question. As for nutmegs and mace, 't is plain that the Latin names of them are modern.

8 Cæsar salutes, &c. The Cæsar here mention'd is Caius Caligula, who affected to triumph over the Germans, whom he never conquer'd, as he did over the Britains; and accordingly sent letters, wrapp'd about with laurels, to the senate and the Empress Cæsonia, whom I here call queen, tho' I know that name was not us'd amongst the Romans; but the word empress would not stand in that verse, for which reason I adjourn'd it to another. The dust which was to be swept away from the altars, was either the ashes which were left there after the last sacrifice for victory, or might perhaps mean the dust or ashes which were left on the altars since some former defeat of the Romans by the Germans; after which overthrow the altars had been neglected.

9 Cæsonia, wife to Caius Caligula, who afterwards, in the reign of Claudius, was propos'd, but ineffectually, to be married to him, after he had executed Messalina for adultery.

10 The captive Germans, &c. He means only such as were to pass for Germans in the triumph, large-bodied men, as they are still, whom the empress cloth'd new, with coarse garments, for the greater ostentation of the victory.

11 Know, I have vow'd two hundred gladiators. A hundred pair of gladiators were beyond the purse of a private man to give; therefore this is only a threat'ning to his heir, that he could do what he pleas'd with his estate.

12 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, deliver'd the torch which he carried to him who was second.

13 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 stall when they were expos'd to sale, to shew the good habit of their body; and made to play tricks before the buyers, to shew their activity and strength.

14 Then say, Chrysippus, &c. Chrysippus, the Stoic, invented a kind of argument, consisting of more than three propositions, which is call'd 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.

TO THE

RIGHT HONORABLE MY LORD RADCLIFFE

MY LORD,

THESE Miscellany Poems are by many titles yours. The first they claim from your acceptance of my promise to present them to you, before some of them were yet in being. The rest are deriv'd from your own merit, the exactness of your judgment in poetry, and the candor of your nature; easy to forgive some trivial faults, when they come accompanied with countervailing beauties. But, after all, tho' these are your equitable claims to a dedication from other poets, yet I must acknowledge a bribe in the case, which is your particular liking of my verses. 'Tis a vanity common to all writers, to overvalue their own productions; and 't is better for me to own this failing in myself, than the world to do it for me. For what other reason have I spent my life in so unprofitable a study? Why am I grown old in seeking so barren a reward as fame? The same parts and application which have made me a poet might have rais'd me to any honors of the gown, which are often given to men of as little learning and less honesty than myself. No government has ever been, or ever can be, wherein timeservers and blockheads will not be uppermost. The persons are only chang'd, but the same jugglings in state, the same hypocrisy in religion, the same self-interest and mismanagement, will remain for ever. Blood and money will be lavish'd in all ages, only for the preferment of new faces, with old consciences. There is too

often a jaundice in the eyes of great men; they see not those whom they raise in the same colors with other men. All whom they affect look golden to them, when the gilding is only in their own distemper'd sight. These considerations have given me a kind of contempt for those who have risen by unworthy ways. I am not asham'd to be little, when I see them so infamously great; neither do I know why the name of poet should be dishonorable to me, if I am truly one, as I hope I am; for I will never do anything that shall dishonor it. The notions of morality are known to all men; none can pretend ignorance of those ideas which are inborn in mankind: and if I see one thing and practice the contrary, I must be disingenuous, not to acknowledge a clear truth; and base, to act against the light of my own conscience. For the reputation of my honesty, no man can question it, who has any of his own; for that of my poetry, it shall either stand by its own merit, or fall for want of it. Ill writers are usually the sharpest censors; for they, as the best poet and the best patron said:

When in the full perfection of decay,
Turn vinegar, and come again in play.

Thus the corruption of a poet is the generation of a critic: I mean of a critic in the general acceptation of this age, for formerly they were quite another species of men. They were defenders of poets, and commentators on their works; to illustrate obscure beauties; to place some passages in a better light; to redeem others from malicious interpretations; to help out an author's modesty, who is not ostentatious of his wit, and, in short, to shield him from