Ev'n thofe thou would't in veneration hold;
And, if not faces, give them beards of gold.
The priests in temples, now, no longer care
For Saturn's brafs, or Numa's earthen-ware;
Or veftal urns, in each religious rite:
This wicked gold has put them all to flight.
O fouls, in whom no heavenly fire is found,
Fat minds, and ever groveling on the ground!
We bring our manners to the bleft abodes,
And think what pleases us must please the Gods.
Of oil and caffia one th' ingredients takes,
And, of the mixture, a rich ointment makes:
Another finds the way to dye in grain;
And makes Calabrian wool receive the Tyrian ftain;
Or from the fhells their orient treafure takes,
Or, for their golden ore, in rivers rakes;
Then melts the mafs: all thefe are vanities!
Yet ftill fome profit from their pains may
But tell me, prieft, if I may be fo bold,
What are the Gods the better for this gold?
The wretch that offers from his wealthy ftore
Thefe prefents, bribes the Powers to give him more:
As maids to Venus offer baby-toys,
To blefs the marriage-bed with girls and boys.
But let us for the Gods a gift prepare,
Which the great man's great charges cannot bear:
A foul, where laws both human and divine,
In practice more than speculation fhine:
A genuine virtue, of a vigorous kind,
Pure in the last reccffes of the mind:
When with fuch offerings to the Gods I come,
A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb.
OUR author has made two fatires concerning ftudy; the firft and the third: the firft related to men; this to young ftudents, whom he defired to be educated in the ftoick philofophy: he himself fuftains the perfon of the mafter, or præceptor, in this admirable fatire; where he upbraids the youth of floth, and negligence in learning. Yet he begins with one fcholar reproaching his fellow-ftudents with late rifing to their books. After which he takes upon him the other part of the teacher. And addreffing himself particularly to young noblemen, tells them, that by reason of their high birth, and the great poffeffions of their fathers, they are careless of adorning their minds with precepts of moral philofophy: and withal, inculcates to them' the miferies 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 infinuates to them. The title of this fatire, in fome ancient manufcripts, was "The Reproach of Idleness;" though in others of the fcholiafts it is infcribed, "Against the Luxury and Vices of the Rich." In both of which the intention of the poet is purfued; but principally in the former.
[I remember I tranflated this fatire, when I was a King's fcholar at Westminster-fchool, for a Thurfday-night's exercife; and believe that it, and many other of my exercifes of this nature, in English verfe, are still in the hands of my learned mafter, the reverend Doctor Busby.]
S this thy daily courfe? The glaring fun
Breaks in at every chink the cattle run
To shades, and noon-tide rays of summer-shun,
Yet plung'd in floth we lie; and fnore fupine,
As fill'd with fumes of indigested wine.
This grave advice fome fober ftudent bears;
And loudly rings it in his fellow's ears.
The yawning youth, fcarce 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 fo late:
My cloaths make hafte: why then! if none be near,
He mutters firft, and then begins to fwear:
And brays aloud, with a more clamorous note,
Than an Arcadian afs 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 them down again;
And, with unwilling fingers, tries the pen :
Some peevish quarrel streight he strives to pick;
His quill writes double, or his ink's too thick;
Infuse more water; now 'tis grown fo thin
It finks, nor can the characters be feen.
O wretch, and ftill more wretched every day!
Are mortals born to fleep 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 fullen, and refufe the lullaby.
No more accufe thy pen: but charge the crime
On native floth, and negligence of time.
Think'st thou thy mafter, or thy friends, to cheat?
Fool, 'tis thyfelf, and that's a worfe deceit.
Beware the public laughter of the town;
Thou fpring'ft a leak already in thy crown.
A flaw is in thy ill bak'd veffel found;
'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring found.
Yet, thy moist clay is pliant to command;
Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand :
Now take the mold; now bend thy mind to feel
The first sharp motions of the forming wheel.
But thou haft land; a country-feat, fecure
By a just title; coftly furniture;
A fuming-pan thy Lares to appease:
What need of learning, when a man's at ease ?
If this be not enough to fwell thy foul,
Then please thy pride, and fearch the herald's roll,
Where thou shalt find thy famous pedigree
Drawn from the root of fome old Tufcan tree;
And thou, a thoufand off, a fool of long degree.
Who, clad in purple, canft thy cenfor greet;
And, loudly, call him coufin, in the street.
Such pageantry be to the people shown:
- There boaft they horfe's trappings, and thy own:
I know thee to thy bottom; from within
Thy fhallow center, to the utmost skin :
Dost thou not blush to live fo like a beaft,
So trim, fo diffolute, fo loofely dreft?
But 'tis in vain: the wretch is drench'd too deep;
His foul is ftupid, and his heart afleep;
Fatten'd in vice; fo callous, and fo grofs,
He fins, and fees not; fenfelefs of his lofs.
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 fend'ft fome heavy judgment on the times;
Some tyrant-king, the terror of his age,
The type, and true vicegerent of thy rage;
Thus punish him: fet virtue in his fight,
With all her charms adorn'd, with all her graces
But fet her diftant, make him pale to fee
His gains outweigh'd by loft felicity!
Sicilian tortures, and the brazen bull, Are emblems, rather than express the full
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