On Rutila; and change her faultless make
For the foul rumple of her camel back.

But, for his mother's boy, the beau, what
frights

His parents have by day, what anxious nights!
Form join'd with virtue is a sight too rare:
Chaste is no epithet to suit with fair.
Suppose the same traditionary strain
Of rigid manners in the house remain,
Inveterate truth, an old plain Sabine's heart;
Suppose that Nature, too, has done her part;
Infus'd into his soul a sober grace,
And blush'd a modest blood into his face
(For Nature is a better guardian far,
Than saucy pedants, or dull tutors are :)
Yet still the youth must ne'er arrive at man;
(So much almighty bribes and presents can ;)
E'en with a parent, where persuasions fail,
Money is impudent, and will prevail.

We never read of such a tyrant king,
Who gelt a boy deform'd, to hear him sing.
Nor Nero, in his more luxurious rage,
E'er made a mistress of an ugly page:
Sporus, his spouse, nor crooked was, nor lame,
With mountain back, and belly, from the game
Cross-barr'd: but both his sexes well became.
Go, boast your springal, by his beauty curst
To ills, nor think I have declar'd the worst:
His form procures him journey-work; a strife
Betwixt town-madains, and the merchant's
wife :

Guess, when he undertakes this public war,
What furious beasts offended cuckolds are.

Adult'rers are with dangers round beset;'
Born under Mars, they cannot scape the net;
And from revengeful husbands oft have tried
Worse handling, than severest laws provide:
One stabs; one slashes; one, with cruel art,
Makes colon suffer for the peccant part.
But your Endymion, your smooth, smock-

fac'd boy,

Unrivall'd, shall a beauteous dame enjoy:
Not so: one more salacious, rich, and old,
Outbids, and buys her pleasure for her gold:
Now he must moil,and drudge, for one he loaths,
She keeps him high in equipage and clothes:
She pawns her jewels, and her rich attire,
And thinks the workman worthy of his hire:
In all things else immoral, stingy, mean;
But, in her lusts, a conscionable queen.

She may be handsome, yet be chaste, you say;

Good observator, not so fast away:
Did it not cost the modest youth his life,*
Who shunn'd th' embraces of his father's wife?

⚫Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, was loved by his mother-in-law Phædra; but he not complying with her she procured his death.

And was not t'other stripling fore'd to fly,†
Who coldly did his patron's queen deny,
And pleaded laws of hospitality?

The ladies charg'd 'em home, and turn'd the tale;

With shame they redden'd, and with spite grew pale.

'T is dang 'rous to deny the longing dame ;Į She loses pity, who has lost her shame.

Now Silius wants thy counsel, give advice;
Wed Cæsar's wife, or die; the choice is nice.
Her comet-eyes she darts on ev'ry grace;
And takes a fatal liking to his face.
Adorn'd with bridal pomp she sits in state,
The public notaries and Aruspex wait:
The genial bed is in the garden drest:
The portion paid, and ev'ry rite express'd
Which in a Roman marriage is profest,
'T is no stol'n wedding this, rejecting awe,
She scorns to marry, but in form of law:
In this moot case, your judgment: to refuse
Is present death, besides the night you lose :
If you consent, 't is hardly worth your pain
A day or two of anxious life you gain:
Till loud reports through all the town have past,
And reach the prince: for cuckolds hear the
last.

Indulge thy pleasure, youth, and take thy swing;
For not to take is but the selfsame thing;
Inevitable death before thee lies;
But looks more kindly through a lady's eyes.

What then remains? Are we depriv'd of will,
Must we not wish, for fear of wishing ill?
Receive my council, and securely move
Intrust thy fortune to the Powers above,
Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant
What their unerring wisdom sees thee want:
In goodness as in greatness they excel;
Ah that we lov'd ourselves but half so well!
We, blindly by our headstrong passions led,
Are hot for action, and desire to wed;
Then wish for heirs : but to the gods alone
Our future offspring, and our wives are known;
Th' audacious strumpet, and ungracious son.

Yet not to rob the priests of pious gain, That altars be not wholly built in vain ; Forgive the gods the rest, and stand confin'd To health of body, and content of mind:

✦ Bellerophron, the son of king Glaucus, residing some time at the court of Pætus, king of the Argives, the queen, Sthenobæa, fell in love with him; but he refusing her, she turned the accusation upon him, and he narrowly escaped Pætus's vengeance.

: Messalina, wife to the emperor Claudius, infamous for her lewdness. She set her eyes upon C. Silius, a fine youth, forced him to go. his own wife, and marry her with all the formalities of a wedding, whilst Claudius Cæsar was sacrificing at Hostia. Upon his return, he put both Silius and her to death.

A soul, that can securely death defy:
And count it nature's privilege, to die;
Serene and manly, harden'd to sustain
The load of life, and exercis'd in pain:
Guiltless of hate, and proof against desire;
That all things weighs, and nothing can admire:
That dares prefer the toils of Hercules
To dalliance, banquet, and ignoble ease.

The path to peace is virtue: what I show, Thyself may freely on thyself bestow: Fortune was never worshipp'd by the wise; But, set aloft by fools, usurps the skies.

THE SIXTEENTH SATIRE OF JUVENAL.

THE ARGUMENT.

The poet in this satire proves, that the condition of

a soldier is much better than that of a countryman: first, because a countryman, however af fronted, provoked. and struck himself, dares not strike a soldier; who is only to be judged by a court martial: and by the law of Camillus, which obliges him not to quarrel without the trenches, he is also assured to have a speedy hearing, and quick despatch: whereas the townsman or peasant is delayed in his suit by frivolous pre

tences, and not sure of justice when he is heard in the court. The soldier is also privileged to make a will, and to give away his estate, which he got in war, to whom he pleases, without consideration of parentage or relations, which is denied to all other Romans. This satire was written by Juvenal when he was a commander in Egypt: itis certainly his, though I think it not finished. And if it be well observed, you will find he intended an invective against a standing army. WHAT vast prerogatives,* my Gallus, are Accruing to the mighty man of war: For, if into a lucky camp I light, Though raw in arms, and yet afraid to fight, Befriend me, my good stars, and all goes right: One happy hour is to a soldier better, Than mother Juno's recommending letter, † Or Venus, when to Mars she would prefer My suit, and own the kindness done to her. See what our common privileges are: As, first, no зaucy citizen shall dare To strike a soldier, nor, when struck, regent The wrong, for fear of farther punishment : Not though his teeth are beaten out, his eyes Hang by a string, in bumps his forehead rise, Shall he presume to mention his disgrace, Or beg amends for his demolish'd face. A booted judge shall sit to try his cause, Not by the statute, but by martial laws;

What vast prerogatives] This satire is much inferior to the rest. The old scholiast denies that it is by Juvenal. I suppose Dryden was forced to add it to fill up his volume.-Barten Holyday's notes, added to his translation of Juvenal, are worth reading. Dr. J. W.

*Juno was mother to Mars the god of war: Venus was his mistress.

VOL. 1.-24

Which old Camillust order'd, to confine
The brawls of soldiers to the trench and line;
A wise provision; and from thence 't is clear,
That officers a soldier's cause should hear:
And taking cognizance of wrongs receiv'd,
An honest man may hope to be reliev'd.
So far 't is well: but with a gen'ral cry,
The regiment will rise in mutiny,
The freedom of their fellow-rogue demand,
And, if refus'd, will threaten to disband.
Withdraw thy action, and depart in peace;
The remedy is worse than the disease:
This cause is worthy him,§ who in the hall
Would for his fee, and for his client, bawl:
But wouldst thou, friend, who hast two legs
alone
[thy own,)
(Which, heav'n be prais', thou yet mayst call
Wouldst thou to run the gauntlet these expose
To a whole company of hob-nail'd shoes ?||
Sure the good-breeding of wise citizens
Should teach 'em more good-nature to their
shins.
[friend,

Besides, whom canst thou think so much thy
Who dares appear thy business to defend?
Dry up thy tears, and pocket up th' abuse,
Nor put thy friend to make a bad excuse:
The judge cries out, Your evidence produce.
Will he, who saw the soldier's mutton-fist,
And saw thee maul'd, appear within the list,
To witness truth? When I see one so brave
The dead, think I, are risen from the grave;
And with their long spade beards, and matted
hair,

Our honest ancestors are come to take the air.
Against a clown, with more security,
A witness may be brought to swear a lie,
Than, though his evidence be full and fair,
To vouch a truth against a man of war.

More benefits remain, and claim'd as rights,
Which are a standing army's perquisites.
If any rogue vexatious suits advance
Against me for my known inheritance,
Enter by violence my fruitful grounds,
Or take the sacred landmark from my bounds, T

Camillus(who being first banished by his ungrateful countrymen the Romans, afterwards returned, and freed them from the Gauls) made a law, which prohibited the soldiers from quarrelling without the camp, lest upon that pretence they might happen to be absent when they ought to be on duty.

$This cause is worthy him, &c.] The poet names a Modenese lawyer, whom he calls Vagellius; who was so impudent that he would plead any cause, right or wrong, without shame or fear.

Hobnail'd shoes] The Roman soldiers wore piates of iron under their shoes, or stuck them with nails, as countrymen do now.

Landmarks were used by the Romans, almost in the same manner as now; and as we go once a year in procession, about the bounds of parishes, and renew them, so they offered cakes upon the stone or land.

pray'r,

And offer'd cakes, have been my annual care:
Or if my debtors do not keep their day,
Deny their hands, and then refuse to pay;
I must with patience all the terms attend,
Among the common causes that depend,
Till mine is call'd; and that long look'd-for day
Is still encumber'd with some new delay:
Perhaps the cloth of state is only spread,*
Some of the quorum may be sick a-bed; [this
That judge is hot, and doffs his gown, while
O'er night was bousy, and goes out to piss:
So many rubs appear, the time is gone
For hearing, and the tedious suit goes on:
But buff and beltman never know these cares,
No time, no trick of law, their action bars:
Their cause they to an easier issue put:
They will be heard, or they lug out, and cut.
Another branch of their revenue still
Remains beyond their boundless right to kill,

The Courts of Judicature were hung and spread, as with us; but spread only before the hundred judges were to sit and judge public causes, which were called by lot.

will.t [clares, For, what their prowess gain'd, the law de

Is to themselves alone, and to their heirs:
No share of that goes back to the begetter,
But if the son fights well, and plunders better,
Like stout Coranus, his old shaking sire
Does a remembrance in his will desire:
Inquisitive of fights, and longs in vain
To find him in the number of the slain:
But still he lives, and, rising by the war,
Enjoys his gains, and has enough to spare;
For 't is a noble general's prudent part

To cherish valour, and reward desert: [whore;
Let him be daub'd with lace, live high, and
Sometimes be lousy, but be never poor.

The Roman soldiers had the privilege of making a will, in their father's life-time, of what they had purchased in the wars, as being no part of their patrimony. By this will they had power of excluding their own parents, and giving the estate so gotten to whom they pleased. Therefore, says the poet, Coranus (a soldier contemporary with Juvenal, who had raised his fortune by the wars). was courted by his own father, to make him his heir.

THE FIRST SATIRE OF PERSIUS.

ARGUMENT OF THE PROLOGUE.

The design of the author was to conceal his name and quality. He lived in the dangerous times of the tyrant Nero; and aims particularly at him în most of his satires. For which reason, though he was a Roman knight,and of a plentiful fortune, he would appear in this prologue but a beggarly poet, who writes for bread. After this, he breaks into the business of the first satire; which is chiefly to decry the poetry then in fashion, and the impudence of those who were endeavouring to pass their stuff upon the world.

PROLOGUE TO THE FIRST SATIRE.

I NEVER did on cleft Parnassus dream,
Nor taste the sacred Heliconian stream;
Nor can remember when my brain inspir'd,
Was by the Muses into madness fir'd.
My share in pale Pyrene I resign;
And claim no part in all the mighty Nine.
Statues, with winding ivy crown'd, belong
To nobler poets, for a nobler song:
Heedless of verse, and hopeless of the crown,

But this I cannot grant, that thy applause
Is

my work's ultimate, or only, cause. Prudence can ne'er propose so mean a prize; For mark what vanity within it lies.

Like Labeo's Iliads, in whose verse is found
Nothing but trifling care, and empty sound:
Such little elegies as nobles write,
Who would be poets, in Apollo's spite.
Them and their woful works the Muse defies:
Products of citron beds, and golden canopies.*
To give thee all thy due, thou hast the heart
To make a supper, with a fine dessert;
And to thy thread-bare friend, a cast old suit
impart.

Thus brib'd, thou thus bespeak'st him, Tell
me, friend,

(For I love truth, nor can plain speech offend,) What says the world of me and of my Muse? The poor dare nothing tell but flatt'ring news : But shall I speak? Thy verse is wretched rhyme;

And all thy labours are but loss of time.
Thy strutting belly swells, thy paunch is high,
Thou writ'st not, but thou pissest poetry.

All authors to their own defects are blind;
Hadst thou but, Janus-like, a face behind,
To see the people, what splay-mouths they
make;

To mark their fingers, pointed at thy back:
Their tongues loll'd out, a foot beyond the pitch,
When most a-thirst, of an Apulian bitch
But noble scribblers are with flatt'ry fed;
For none dare find their faults, who eat their
bread.

To pass the poets of patrician blood,
What is 't the common reader takes for good?
The verse in fashion is, when numbers flow,
Soft without sense, and without spirit slow
So smooth and equal, that no sight can find
The rivet, where the polish'd piece was join'd.
So even all, with such a steady view,
As if he shut one eye to level true.
Whether the vulgar vice his satire stings,
The people's riots, or the rage of kings,
The gentle poet is alike in all;

His reader hopes no rise, and fears no fall. FRIEND. Hourly we see some raw pinfeather'd thing

Attempt to mount, and fights and heroes sing;
Who for false quantities was whipt at school
But t'other day, and breaking grammar rule,
Whose trival art was never tried above
The bare description of a native grove:
Who knows not how to praise the country store,
The feasts, the baskets, nor the fatted boar;

*Products of citron beds, &c.] Writings of noble. men whose bedsteads were of the wood of citron.

Nor paint the flow'ry fields, that paint them

selves before.

Where Romulus was bred, and Quintius born, Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows

worn,

Met by his trembling wife, returning home,
And rustically joy'd, as chief of Rome :
She wip'd the sweat from the dictator's brow;
And o'er his back his robe did rudely throw;
The lictors bore in state their lord's triumphant
plough.

Some love to hear the fustian poet roar;
And some on antiquated authors pore:
Rummage for sense; and think those only good
Who labour most, and least are understood.
When thou shalt see the blear-ey'd fathers
teach

Their sons, this harsh and mouldy sort of speech;
Or others new affected ways to try,
Of wanton smoothness, female poetry;
One would inquire from whence this motley style
Did first our Roman purity defile:
For our old dotards cannot keep their seat;
But leap and catch at all that's obsolete.

Others, by foolish ostentation led,
When call'd before the bar, to save their head,
Bring trifling tropes instead of solid sense:
And mind their figures more than their defence.
Are pleas'd to hear their thick-skull'd judges cry,
Well mov'd, oh finely said, and decently!
Theft (says the accuser) to thy charge I lay,
O Pedius say! what does gentle Pedius say?
Studious to please the genius of the times
With periods, points, and tropes, he slurs his
crimes:

"He robb'd not, but he borrow'd from the poor;
And took but with intention to restore."
He lards with flourishes his long harangue
'T is fine, say'st thou: What, to be prais'd and
hang?

Effeminate Roman, shall such stuff prevail
To tickle thee, and make thee wag thy tail?
Say, should a shipwreck'd sailor sing his wo,
Wouldst thou be mov'd to pity, or bestow [see
An alms? What's more preposterous than to
A merry beggar? Mirth in misery?

PER. He seems a trap, for charity, to lay: And cons, by night, his lesson for the day. FRIEND. But to raw numbers, and un

finish'd verse,

Sweet sound is added now, to make it terse: "'T is tagg'd with ryhme, like Berecynthian Atys, [flat is.

The mid-part chimes with art, which never The dolphin brave, that cuts the liquid wave, Or he who in his line, can chine the long-ribb'd Apennine."

PER. All this is doggerel stuff.