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OUR author has made two fatires concerning study;
the first and the third : the first related to men ; this to young students, whom he desired to be educated in the stoick philosophy: he himself sustains the person of the master, or præceptor, in this admirable satire ; where he upbraids the youth of Noth, 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 thein. The title of this fatire, in some ancient manuscripts, was “ The Reproach of Idlenels;" though in others of the scholiafts 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.
[1 remember I translated this satire, when I was a
King's scholar at Westminster-School, for a Thurfday-night's exercise; and believe that it, and many other of my exercises of this nature, in English verse, . are Itill in the hands of my learned master, the reverend Doctor Bulby.);
S this thy daily course? The glaring sun
Breaks in at every chink: the cattle run To liades, and noon-tide
of summer-lhun, Yet plung'd in floth we lie; and snore supine, As fill'd with fumes of indigested 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 guinmy eyes, and scrubs his pate; And cries, I thought it had not been so late : My cloaths make halte: 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 display'd; He takes the papers; lays them down again ; And, with unwilling fingers, tries the pen : Some peevith quarrel streight he strives to pick; His quill writes double, or his ink's too thick; Infuse more water ; now 'tis grown so thin It finks, nor can the characters be seen.
O wretch, and still more wretched every day!
Yet, thy moist clay is pliant to command;
But thou hast land; a country-seat, secure
If this be not enough to swell thy soul,
Such pageantry be to the people shown :
But 'tis in vain : the wretch is drench’d too deep;
Great Father of the Gods, when, for our crimes,
bright: But set her distant, 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
Of what he feels : yet what he fears is more :
When I was young, I, like a lazy fool,
But then my study was to cog the dice,
Tky years are ripe, nor art thou yet to learn