Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Bookness would cramp and paraphrase would enfeeble their sense, which may be felt, but can not be expressed. Casaubon explains compositum, "animum bene comparatum ad omnia divina humanaque jura." τὸ εὔτακτον τῆς ψυχῆς πρὸς τὰ θεῖά τε καὶ ἀνθρώπινα δίκαια. It may also imply the "harmonious blending of the two." [1332] _Recessus._ So the Greeks used the phrases μυχοὺς διανοίας, ἄδυτα ταμιεῖα διανοίας. Cf. Rom., xi., 16, τὰ κρυπτὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων. [1333] _Incoctum_ a metaphor from a fleece double-dyed. So Seneca, "Quemadmodum lana quosdam colores semel ducit, quosdam nisi sæpius macerata et recocta non perbibit: sic alias disciplines ingenia cum accepere, protinus præstant: hæc nisi altè descendit, et diù sedit, animum non coloravit, sed infecit, nihil ex his quæ promiserat præstat." Ep. 71. Cf. Virg., Georg., iii., 307, "Quamvis Milesia magno vellera mutentur Tyrios _incocta_ rubores." [1334] _Litabo._ Cf. v., 120, "Soli probi _litare_ dicuntur proprie: _sacrificare_ quilibet etiam improbi." Litare therefore is to _obtain_ that for which the sacrifice is offered. Vid. Liv., xxxviii., 20, "Postero die sacrificio facto cum primis hostiis litasset." Plaut., Pœnul., ii., 41, "Tum Jupiter faciat ut semper _sacrificem_ nec unquam _litem_." Cf. Lact. ad Stat. Theb., x., 610. Suet., Cæs., 81. Even the heathen could see that the deity regarded the purity of the heart, not the costliness of the offering of the sacrificer. So Laberius, "_Puras_ deus non _plenas_ aspicit manus." τὸ δαιμονίον μᾶλλον πρὸς τὸ τῶν θυόντων ἠθος ἢ πρὸς τὸ τῶν θυομένων πλῆθος βλέπει. Cf. Plat., Alc., II., xii., fin., "Est litabilis hostia bonus animus et pura mens et sincera sententia." Min., Fel., 32. [1335] _Farre._ The idea is probably taken from Seneca. Ep. 95, "Nec in victimis, licet opimæ sint, auroque præfulgeant, deorum est honos: sed pia et recta voluntate venerantium: itaque boni etiam _farre_ ac fictili religiosi." Hor., iii., Od. xxiii., 17, "Immunis aram si tetigit manus non sumptuosa blandior hostia mollivit aversos Penates _farre_ pio et saliente mica." Cf. Eurip., Fr. Orion εὖ ἴσθ' ὅταν τις εὐσεβῶν θύῃ θεοῖς· κἂν μικρὰ θύῃ τυγχάνει σωτηρίας. SATIRE III. ARGUMENT. In this Satire, perhaps more than in any other, we detect Persius' predilection for the doctrines of the Stoics. With them the summum bonum was "the sound mind in the sound body." To attain which, man must apply himself to the cultivation of virtue, that is, to the study of philosophy. He that does not can aspire to neither. Though unknown to himself, he is laboring under a mortal disease, and though he fancies he possesses a healthy intellect, he is the victim of as deep-seated and dangerous a delusion as the recognized maniac. The object of the Satire is to reclaim the idle and profligate young nobles of his day from their enervating and pernicious habits, by the illustration of these principles. The opening scene of the Satire presents us with the bedchamber where one of these young noblemen, accompanied by some other youths probably of inferior birth and station, is indulging in sleep many hours after the sun has risen upon the earth. The entrance of the tutor, who is a professor of the Stoical philosophy, disturbs their slumbers, and the confusion consequent upon his rebuke, and the thin disguise of their ill-assumed zeal, is graphically described. After a passionate outburst of contempt at their paltry excuses, the tutor points out the irretrievable evils that will result from their allowing the golden hours of youth to pass by unimproved: overthrows all objections which are raised as to their position in life, and competency of means rendering such vigorous application superfluous; and in a passage of solemn warning full of majesty and power, describes the unavailing remorse which will assuredly hereafter visit those who have so far quitted the rugged path that leads to virtue's heights, that all return is hopeless. He then proceeds to describe the defects of his own education; and the vices he fell into in consequence of these defects--vices however which were venial in himself, as those principles which would have taught him their folly were never inculcated in him. Whereas those whom he addresses, from the greater care that has been bestowed on their early training, are without apology for their neglect of these palpable duties. Then with great force and vigor, he briefly describes the proper pursuits of well-regulated minds; and looks down with contemptuous scorn on the sneers with which vulgar ignorance would deride these truths, too transcendent for their gross comprehension to appreciate. The Satire concludes very happily with the lively apologue of a glutton; who, in despite of all warning and friendly advice, perseveres even when his health is failing, in such vicious and unrestrained indulgence, that he falls at length a victim to his intemperance. The application of the moral is simple. The mind that is destitute of philosophical culture is hopelessly diseased, and the precepts of philosophy can alone effect a cure. He that despises these, in vain pronounces himself to be of sound mind. On the approach of any thing that can kindle the spark, his passions burst into flame; and in spite of his boasted sanity, urge him on to acts that would call forth the reprobation even of the maniac himself. The whole Satire and its moral, as Gifford says, may be fitly summed up in the solemn injunction of a wiser man than the schools ever produced: "Wisdom is the principal thing: therefore get Wisdom." What! always thus![1336] Already the bright morning is entering the windows,[1337] and extending[1338] the narrow chinks with light. We are snoring[1339] as much as would suffice to work off the potent Falernian,[1340] while the index[1341] is touched by the fifth shadow of the gnomon. See! What are you about? The raging Dog-star[1342] is long since ripening the parched harvest, and all the flock is under the wide-spreading elm. One of the fellow-students[1343] says, "Is it really so? Come hither, some one, quickly. Is nobody coming!" His vitreous bile[1344] is swelling. He is bursting with rage: so that you would fancy whole herds of Arcadia[1345] were braying. Now his book, and the two-colored[1346] parchment cleared of the hair, and paper, and the knotty reed is taken in hand. Then he complains that the ink, grown thick, clogs in his pen; then that the black sepia[1347] vanishes altogether, if water is poured into it; then that the reed makes blots with the drops being diluted. O wretch! and every day still more a wretch! Are we come to such a pitch? Why do you not rather, like the tender ring-dove,[1348] |