Preach this among the brawny guards, fay'ft thou, And fee 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 Zeno's just as much
As a clipt fixpence, or a fchilling Dutch.

THE

SIXTH SATIRE

O F

PERS IU S.

ARGUMENT.

THIS fixth fatire treats an admirable common-place of moral philofophy; of the true use of riches. They certainly are intended, by the power who beftows them, as inftruments and helps of living commodiously ourselves; and of adminiftering to the wants of others, who are oppressed by fortune. 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 happinefs in the acquifition and poffeffion of them; and this is, undoubtedly, the worse extreme. The mean betwixt thefe, is the opinion of the Stoicks; which is, that riches may be useful to the leading

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a virtuous life; in cafe we rightly understand how to give according to right reafon; 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 Perfius writes in this fatire; wherein he not only fhews the lawful use of riches, but also fharply inveighs against the vices which are opposed to it; and especially of thofe, which confift in the defects of giving or spending; or in the abufe of riches. He writes' to Cæfius Baffus his friend, and a poet alfo. Enquires first of his health and studies; and afterwards informs him of his own, and where he is now refident. He gives an account of himself, that he is endeavouring, by little and little, to wear off his vices; and particularly, that he is combating ambition, and the defire of wealth. He dwells upon the latter vice: and, being fenfible that few men either defire or ufe riches as they ought, he endeavours to convince them of their folly; which is the main design of the whole fatire.

THE SIXTH SATIR E.

TO CESIUS BASSUS, A LYRIC POET.

H

AS winter caus'd thee, friend, to change thy feat, And feek in Sabine air a warm retreat? Say, doft thou yet the Roman harp command? Do the frings answer to thy noble hand?

Great master of the Mufe, infpir'd to fing
The beauties of the first-created spring;
The pedigree of Nature to rehearse,

And found the Maker's work, in equal verse.
Now sporting on thy lyre the loves of youth,
Now virtuous age, and venerable truth;
Expreffing justly Sappho's wanton art
Of odes, and Pindar's more majestic part.
For me, my warmer conftitution wants
More cold, than our Ligurian winter grants;
And therefore, to my native fhores retir'd,
I view the coaft old Ennius once admir'd;
Where clifts on either fides their points difplay;
And, after, opening in an ampler way,

Afford the pleafing profpect 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 foul
The fifth within the tranfmigrating roli ;
Which first a peacock, then Euphorbus was,
Then Homer next, and next Pythagoras;
And laft of all the line did into Ennius pafs.
Secure and free from bufinefs of the ftate,
And more fecure of what the vulgar prate,
Here I enjoy my private thoughts; nor care
What rots for sheep the fouthern winds prepare:
Survey the neighbouring fields, and not repine,
When I behold a larger crop than mine:
To fee a beggar's brat in riche's flow,
Adds not a wrinkle to my even brow;

Net,

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Nor, envious at the fight, will I forbear
My plenteous bowl, nor bate my bounteous cheer.
Nor yet unfeal the dregs of wine that stink
Of cask; nor in a nafty flaggon drink;
Let others ftuff their guts with homely fare;
For men of different inclinations are;
Though born perhaps beneath one common ftar.
In minds and manners twins oppos'd we fee
In the fame fign, almost the same degree:
One, frugal, on his birth-day fears to dine;
Does at a penny's coft in herbs repine,
And hardly dares to dip his fingers in the brine.
Prepar'd as priest of his own rites to ftand,
He fprinkles pepper with a sparing hand.
His jolly brother, opposite in sense,

Laughs at his thrift; and, lavish of expence,
Quaffs, crams, and guttles, in his own defence.
For me, I'll ufe my own; and take my
fhare;
Yet will not turbots for my flaves prepare;
Nor be fo nice in tafte myself to know
If what I fwallow be a thrufh, or no.
Live on thy annual income; fpend thy ftore;
And freely grind, from thy full threshing-floor;
Next harvest promifes as much, or more.
Thus I would live: but friendship's holy band,
And offices of kindness, hold my hand :
My friend is fhipwreck'd on the Brutian ftrand,
His riches in th' Fonian main are loft;
And he himself ftands fhivering on the coaft;

A a 4

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