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THIS fixth fatire treats an admirable common-place of moral philosophy; 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 administering 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

a virtuous life; in cafe we rightly underftand how to give according to right reason; 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 oppofed to it; and especially of those, which confift in the defects of giving or fpending; or in the abufe of riches. He writes to Cæfius Baffus his friend, and a poet alfo. Enquires first of his health and ftudies; 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 defign of the whole fatire.

THE SIXTH SATIRE.

TO CESIUS BASSUS, A LYRIC POET.

HAS 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 ftrings anfwer to thy noble hand?

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Great mafter 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 verfe.
Now fporting 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 coast old Ennius once
admir'd;
Where clifts on either fides their points display;

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 fays our learned Bard;
Who in a drunken dream beheld his foul
The fifth within the tranfmigrating roll;
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 state,
And more fecure of what the vulgar prate,
Here I enjoy my private thoughts; nor care
What rots for fheep 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 riches flow,

is not a wrinkle to my even brow;

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Nor,

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 cafk; 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 star.
In minds and manners twins oppos'd we fee
In the fame fign, almost the fame 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 prieft of his own rites to stand,
He fprinkles pepper with a sparing hand.
His jolly brother, opposite in fense,

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 share;
Yet will not turbots for my flaves prepare;
Nor be fo nice in taste 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 strand,
His riches in th' lonian main are lost;

And he hinfelf ftands fhivering on the coaft;

A a 4

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Where, deftitute of help, forlorn and bare,
He wearies the deaf Gods with fruitless prayer.
Their images, the relicts of the wreck,

Torn from the naked poop, are tided back
By the wild waves, and, rudely thrown ashore,
Lie impotent; nor can themselves restore.

The veffel sticks, and fhews her open'd fide,

And on her shatter'd maft the mews in triumph ride.
From thy new hope, and from thy growing store,
Now lend affiftance, and relieve the poor.
Come; do a noble act of charity;

A pittance of thy land will fet him free.
Let him not bear the badges of a wreck,
Nor beg with a blue table on his back:
Nor tell me that thy frowning heir will fay,
'Tis mine that wealth thou fquander'ft thus away;
What is 't to thee, if he neglect thy urn,

Or without fpices lets thy body burn?
If odours to thy ashes he refuse,

Or buys corrupted caffia from the Jews?
All there, the wifer Beftius will reply,
Are empty pomp, and dead-mens luxury:
We never knew this vain expence, before
Th' effeminated Grecians brought it o'er:
New toys and trifles from their Athens come;
And dates and pepper have unfinew'd Rome.
Our fweating hinds their fallads, now, defile,
Infecting homely herbs with fragrant oil.
But to thy fortune be not thou a flave:

r what haft thou to fear beyond the grave?

And

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