Part 19

It was the opinion both of Grecians and Romans, that the gods, in visions and dreams, often revealed to their favourites a cure for their diseases, and sometimes those of others. Thus Alexander dreamed of an herb which cured Ptolemy. These gods were principally Apollo and Esculapius; but, in aftertimes, the same virtue and good-will was attributed to Isis and Osiris. Which brings to my remembrance an odd passage in Sir Thomas Brown's Religio Medici, or in his Vulgar Errors; the sense whereof is, that we are beholden, for many of our discoveries in physic, to the courteous revelation of spirits. By the expression, of "visions purged from phlegm," our author means such dreams or visions as proceed not from natural causes, or humours of the body, but such as are sent from heaven; and are, therefore, certain remedies.

Note VII.

_The priests in temples, now no longer care For Saturn's brass._--P. 225.

Brazen vessels, in which the public treasures of the Romans were kept: it may be the poet means only old vessels, which were called #Kronia#, from the Greek name of Saturn. Note also, that the Roman treasury was in the temple of Saturn.

Note VIII.

----_Or Numa's earthen ware._--P. 225.

Under Numa, the second king of Rome, and for a long time after him, the holy vessels for sacrifice were of earthen-ware; according to the superstitious rites which were introduced by the same Numa: though afterwards, when Memmius had taken Corinth, and Paulus Emilius had conquered Macedonia, luxury began amongst the Romans, and then their utensils of devotion were of gold and silver, &c.

Note IX.

_And makes Calabrian wool, &c._--P. 225.

The wool of Calabria was of the finest sort in Italy, as Juvenal also tells us. The Tyrian stain is the purple colour dyed at Tyrus; and I suppose, but dare not positively affirm, that the richest of that dye was nearest our crimson, and not scarlet, or that other colour more approaching to the blue. I have not room to justify my conjecture.

Note X.

_As maids to Venus offer baby-toys._--P. 225.

Those baby-toys were little babies, or poppets, as we call them; in Latin, pupæ; which the girls, when they came to the age of puberty, or child bearing, offered to Venus; as the boys, at fourteen or fifteen, offered their _bullæ_, or bosses.

Note XI.

_A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb._--P. 226.

A cake of barley, or coarse wheat-meal, with the bran in it. The meaning is, that God is pleased with the pure and spotless heart of the offerer, and not with the riches of the offering. Laberius, in the fragments of his "Mimes," has a verse like this--_Puras, Deus, non plenas aspicit manus_.--What I had forgotten before, in its due place, I must here tell the reader, that the first half of this satire was translated by one of my sons, now in Italy; but I thought so well of it, that I let it pass without any alteration.

THE

THIRD SATIRE

OF

PERSIUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

_Our author has made two Satires concerning study, the first and the third: the first related to men; this to young students, whom he desired to be educated in the Stoic philosophy. He himself sustains the person of the master, or preceptor, in this admirable Satire, where he upbraids the youth of sloth, and negligence in learning. Yet he begins with one scholar reproaching his fellow-students with late rising to their books. After which, he takes upon him the other part of the teacher; and, addressing himself particularly to young noblemen, tells them, that, by reason of their high birth, and the great possessions of their fathers, they are careless of adorning their minds with precepts of moral philosophy: and, withal, inculcates to them the miseries 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 insinuates to them. The title of this satire, in some ancient manuscripts, was, "the Reproach of Idleness;" though in others of the scholiasts it is inscribed, "Against the Luxury and Vices of the Rich." In both of which, the intention of the poet is pursued, but principally in the former._

[I remember I translated this satire when I was a king's scholar at Westminster school, for a Thursday-night's exercise; and believe, that it, and many other of my exercises of this nature in English verse, are still in the hands of my learned master, the Rev. Dr Busby.]

Is this thy daily course? The glaring sun } Breaks in at every chink; the cattle run } To shades, and noon-tide rays of summer shun; } Yet plunged in sloth we lie, and snore supine, As filled with fumes of undigested wine. This grave advice some sober student bears, And loudly rings it in his fellow's ears. The yawning youth, scarce 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 so late! My clothes, make haste!--why then, if none be near, He mutters, first, and then begins to swear; And brays aloud, with a more clamorous note, Than an Arcadian ass can stretch his throat. With much ado, his book before him laid, And parchment with the smoother side displayed,[206] He takes the papers; lays them down again, And with unwilling fingers tries the pen. Some peevish quarrel straight he strives to pick, His quill writes double, or his ink's too thick; Infuse more water,--now 'tis grown so thin, It sinks, nor can the characters be seen. O wretch, and still more wretched every day! Are mortals born to sleep 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 sullen, and refuse the lullaby. No more accuse thy pen; but charge the crime On native sloth, and negligence of time. Think'st thou thy master, or thy friends, to cheat? Fool, 'tis thyself, and that's a worse deceit. Beware the public laughter of the town; Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown; A flaw is in thy ill-baked vessel found; 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound. Yet thy moist clay is pliant to command, Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould; now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel. But thou hast land; a country seat, secure By a just title; costly furniture; A fuming pan thy Lares to appease:[207] What need of learning when a man's at ease? If this be not enough to swell thy soul, Then please thy pride, and search the herald's roll, Where thou shalt find thy famous pedigree } Drawn from the root of some old Tuscan tree,[208] } And thou, a thousand off, a fool of long degree; } Who, clad in purple, can'st thy censor greet,[209] And loudly call him cousin in the street. Such pageantry be to the people shown: There boast thy horse's trappings, and thy own. I know thee to thy bottom, from within Thy shallow centre, to the utmost skin: Dost thou not blush to live so like a beast, So trim, so dissolute, so loosely drest? But 'tis in vain; the wretch is drenched too deep, His soul is stupid, and his heart asleep; Fattened in vice, so callous, and so gross, He sins, and sees not, senseless of his loss. Down goes the wretch at once, unskilled to swim, Hopeless to bubble up, and reach the water's brim. Great father of the gods, when for our crimes Thou send'st some heavy judgment on the times; Some tyrant-king, the terror of his age, The type, and true vicegerent of thy rage; Thus punish him: set virtue in his sight, With all her charms, adorned with all her graces bright; But set her distant, make him pale to see His gains outweighed by lost felicity! Sicilian tortures, and the brazen bull,[210] Are emblems, rather than express the full Of what he feels; yet what he fears is more: The wretch, who, sitting at his plenteous board, Looked up, and viewed on high the pointed sword Hang o'er his head, and hanging by a twine, Did with less dread, and more securely dine.[211] Even in his sleep he starts, and fears the knife, And, trembling, in his arms takes his accomplice wife; Down, down he goes; and from his darling friend Conceals the woes his guilty dreams portend. When I was young, I, like a lazy fool, Would blear my eyes with oil, to stay from school: Averse from pains, and loth to learn the part Of Cato, dying with a dauntless heart; Though much my master that stern virtue praised, Which o'er the vanquisher the vanquished raised; And my pleased father came with pride to see His boy defend the Roman liberty. But then my study was to cog the dice, And dexterously to throw the lucky sice; To shun ames-ace, that swept my stakes away, } And watch the box, for fear they should convey } False bones, and put upon me in the play; } Careful, besides, the whirling top to whip, And drive her giddy, till she fell asleep. Thy years are ripe, nor art thou yet to learn What's good or ill, and both their ends discern: Thou in the Stoic-porch,[212] severely bred, Hast heard the dogmas of great Zeno read; Where on the walls, by Polygnotus' hand, The conquered Medians in trunk-breeches stand;[213] Where the shorn youth to midnight lectures rise, Roused from their slumbers to be early wise; Where the coarse cake, and homely husks of beans, From pampering riot the young stomach weans; And where the Samian Y directs thy steps to run To Virtue's narrow steep, and broad-way Vice to shun.[214] And yet thou snor'st, thou draw'st thy drunken breath, Sour with debauch, and sleep'st the sleep of death: Thy chaps are fallen, and thy frame disjoined; Thy body is dissolved as is thy mind. Hast thou not yet proposed some certain end, To which thy life, thy every act, may tend? Hast thou no mark, at which to bend thy bow? Or, like a boy, pursuest the carrion crow With pellets, and with stones, from tree to tree, A fruitless toil, and livest _extempore_? Watch the disease in time; for when within The dropsy rages, and extends the skin, In vain for hellebore the patient cries, And fees the doctor, but too late is wise; Too late, for cure he proffers half his wealth; Conquest and Guibbons[215] cannot give him health. Learn, wretches, learn the motions of the mind, } Why you were made, for what you were designed, } And the great moral end of human kind. } Study thyself, what rank, or what degree, The wise Creator has ordained for thee; And all the offices of that estate Perform, and with thy prudence guide thy fate. Pray justly to be heard, nor more desire Than what the decencies of life require. Learn what thou owest thy country, and thy friend; What's requisite to spare, and what to spend: Learn this; and after, envy not the store Of the greased advocate, that grinds the poor; Fat fees[216] from the defended Umbrian draws, And only gains the wealthy client's cause; To whom the Marsians more provision send, Than he and all his family can spend. Gammons, that give a relish to the taste, And potted fowl, and fish come in so fast, That ere the first is out, the second stinks, And mouldy mother gathers on the brinks. But here some captain of the land, or fleet, Stout of his hands, but of a soldier's wit, Cries,--I have sense to serve my turn in store, And he's a rascal who pretends to more. Damn me, whate'er those book-learned blockheads say, Solon's the veriest fool in all the play. Top-heavy drones, and always looking down, (As over ballasted within the crown,) Muttering betwixt their lips some mystic thing, Which, well examined, is flat conjuring; Mere madmen's dreams; for what the schools have taught, } Is only this, that nothing can be brought } From nothing, and what is can ne'er be turned to nought. } Is it for this they study? to grow pale, And miss the pleasures of a glorious meal? For this, in rags accoutered, are they seen, And made the may-game of the public spleen?-- Proceed, my friend, and rail; but hear me tell A story, which is just thy parallel:-- A spark, like thee, of the man-killing trade, Fell sick, and thus to his physician said,-- Methinks I am not right in every part; I feel a kind of trembling at my heart, My pulse unequal, and my breath is strong, Besides a filthy fur upon my tongue. The doctor heard him, exercised his skill, And after bade him for four days be still. Three days he took good counsel, and began To mend, and look like a recovering man; The fourth he could not hold from drink, but sends His boy to one of his old trusty friends, Adjuring him, by all the powers divine, } To pity his distress, who could not dine } Without a flaggon of his healing wine. } He drinks a swilling draught; and, lined within, Will supple in the bath his outward skin: Whom should he find but his physician there, Who wisely bade him once again beware. Sir, you look wan, you hardly draw your breath; Drinking is dangerous, and the bath is death. 'Tis nothing, says the fool; but, says the friend, This nothing, sir, will bring you to your end. Do I not see your dropsy belly swell? Your yellow skin?--No more of that; I'm well. I have already buried two or three } That stood betwixt a fair estate and me, } And, doctor, I may live to bury thee. } Thou tell'st me, I look ill; and thou look'st worse. I've done, says the physician; take your course. The laughing sot, like all unthinking men, Bathes, and gets drunk; then bathes, and drinks again: His throat half throttled with corrupted phlegm, And breathing through his jaws a belching steam, Amidst his cups with fainting shivering seized, His limbs disjointed, and all o'er diseased, His hand refuses to sustain the bowl, } And his teeth chatter, and his eye-balls roll, } Till with his meat he vomits out his soul; } Then trumpets, torches, and a tedious crew Of hireling mourners, for his funeral due. Our dear departed brother lies in state, } His heels stretched out, and pointing to the gate;[217] } And slaves, now manumized, on their dead master wait. } They hoist him on the bier, and deal the dole, And there's an end of a luxurious fool. But what's thy fulsome parable to me? My body is from all diseases free; My temperate pulse does regularly beat; } Feel, and be satisfied, my hands and feet: } These are not cold, nor those opprest with heat. } Or lay thy hand upon my naked heart, And thou shalt find me hale in every part. I grant this true; but still the deadly wound Is in thy soul, 'tis there thou art not sound. Say, when thou see'st a heap of tempting gold, Or a more tempting harlot dost behold; Then, when she casts on thee a side-long glance, Then try thy heart, and tell me if it dance. Some coarse cold sallad is before thee set; } Bread with the bran, perhaps, and broken meat; } Fall on, and try thy appetite to eat. } These are not dishes for thy dainty tooth: What, hast thou got an ulcer in thy mouth? Why stand'st thou picking? Is thy palate sore, That bete and radishes will make thee roar? Such is the unequal temper of thy mind, Thy passions in extremes, and unconfined; Thy hair so bristles with unmanly fears, As fields of corn, that rise in bearded ears; And when thy cheeks with flushing fury glow, } The rage of boiling cauldrons is more slow, } When fed with fuel and with flames below. } With foam upon thy lips and sparkling eyes, Thou say'st, and dost, in such outrageous wise, That mad Orestes,[218] if he saw the show, Would swear thou wert the madder of the two.

FOOTNOTES:

[206] Note I.

[207] Note II.

[208] Note III.

[209] Note IV.

[210] Note V.

[211] Note VI.

[212] Note VII.

[213] Note VIII.

[214] Note IX.

[215] Two learned physicians of the period. Dryden mentions Guibbons more than once, as a friend.

[216] Note X.

[217] Note XI.

[218] Note XII.

NOTES

ON

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

SATIRE III.

Note I.

_And parchment with the smoother side displayed._--P. 231.

The students used to write their notes on parchments; the inside, on which they wrote, was white; the other side was hairy, and commonly yellow. Quintilian reproves this custom, and advises rather table-books, lined with wax, and a stile, like that we use in our vellum table-books, as more easy.

Note II.

_A fuming-pan thy Lares to appease._--P. 232.

Before eating, it was customary to cut off some part of the meat, which was first put into a pan, or little dish, then into the fire, as an offering to the household gods: this they called a Libation.

Note III.

_Drawn from the root of some old Tuscan tree._--P. 232.

The Tuscans were accounted of most ancient nobility. Horace observes this in most of his compliments to Mæcenas, who was derived from the old kings of Tuscany; now the dominion of the Great Duke.

Note IV.

_Who, clad in purple, canst thy censor greet._--P. 232.

The Roman knights, attired in the robe called _trabea_, were summoned by the censor to appear before him, and to salute him in passing by, as their names were called over. They led their horses in their hand. See more of this in Pompey's Life, written by Plutarch.

Note V.

_Sicilian tortures, and the brazen bull._--P. 233.

Some of the Sicilian kings were so great tyrants, that the name is become proverbial. The brazen bull is a known story of Phalaris, one of those tyrants, who, when Perillus, a famous artist, had presented him with a bull of that metal hollowed within, which, when the condemned person was inclosed in it, would render the sound of a bull's roaring, caused the workman to make the first experiment,--_docuitque suum mugire juvencum_.

Note VI.

_The wretch, who, sitting at his plenteous board, Looked up, and viewed on high the pointed sword._--P. 233.

He alludes to the story of Damocles, a flatterer of one of those Sicilian tyrants, namely Dionysius. Damocles had infinitely extolled the happiness of kings: Dionysius, to convince him of the contrary, invited him to a feast, and clothed him in purple; but caused a sword, with the point downward, to be hung over his head by a silken twine; which, when he perceived, he could eat nothing of the delicates that were set before him.

Note VII.

_Thou in the Stoic-porch, severely bred._--P. 233.

The Stoics taught their philosophy under a porticus, to secure their scholars from the weather. Zeno was the chief of that sect.

Note VIII.

_Where on the walls, by Polygnotus' hand, The conquered Medians in trunk-breeches stand._--P. 233.

Polygnotus, a famous painter, who drew the pictures of the Medes and Persians, conquered by Miltiades, Themistocles, and other Athenian captains, on the walls of the portico, in their natural habits.

Note IX.

_And where the Samian Y directs thy steps to run To Virtue's narrow steep, and broad-way Vice to shun._ P. 234.

Pythagoras, of Samos, made the allusion of the Y, or Greek _upsilon_, to Vice and Virtue. One side of the letter being broad, characters Vice, to which the ascent is wide and easy; the other side represents Virtue, to which the passage is strait and difficult; and perhaps our Saviour might also allude to this, in those noted words of the evangelist, "The way to heaven," &c.

Note X.

_Fat fees from the defended Umbrian draws._--P. 235.

Casaubon here notes, that, among all the Romans, who were brought up to learning, few, besides the orators or lawyers, grew rich.

Note XI.

_His heels stretched out, and pointing to the gate._ P. 237.

The Romans were buried without the city; for which reason, the poet says, that the dead man's heels were stretched out towards the gate.

Note XII.

----_Mad Orestes._--P. 238.

Orestes was son to Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. Agamemnon, at his return from the Trojan wars, was slain by Ægysthus, the adulterer of Clytemnestra. Orestes, to revenge his father's death, slew both Ægysthus and his mother; for which he was punished with madness by the Eumenides, or Furies, who continually haunted him.

THE

FOURTH SATIRE

OF

PERSIUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

_Our author, living in the time of Nero, was contemporary and friend to the noble poet Lucan. Both of them were sufficiently sensible, with all good men, how unskilfully he managed the commonwealth; and perhaps might guess at his future tyranny, by some passages, during the latter part of his first five years; though he broke not out into his great excesses, while he was restrained by the counsels and authority of Seneca. Lucan has not spared him in the poem of his Pharsalia; for his very compliment looked asquint, as well as Nero.[219] Persius has been bolder, but with caution likewise. For here, in the person of young Alcibiades, he arraigns his ambition of meddling with state-affairs without judgment, or experience. It is probable, that he makes Seneca, in this satire, sustain the part of Socrates, under a borrowed name; and, withal, discovers some secret vices of Nero, concerning his lust, his drunkenness, find his effeminacy, which had not yet arrived to public notice. He also reprehends the flattery of his courtiers, who endeavoured to make all his vices pass for virtues. Covetousness was undoubtedly none of his faults; but it is here described as a veil cast over the true meaning of the poet, which was to satirize his prodigality and voluptuousness; to which he makes a transition. I find no instance in history of that emperor's being a Pathic, though Persius seems to brand him with it. From the two dialogues of Plato, both called "Alcibiades," the poet took the arguments of the second and third satires; but he inverted the order of them, for the third satire is taken from the first of those dialogues._

_The commentators before Casaubon were ignorant of our author's secret meaning; and thought he had only written against young noblemen in general, who were too forward in aspiring to public magistracy; but this excellent scholiast has unravelled the whole mystery, and made it apparent, that the sting of the satire was particularly aimed at Nero._