Studies in the Poetry of Italy, Part I. Roman

by Frank Justus Miller

The teacher fares no better:

Who places in Celadus' and learned Palæmon's lap a due reward for their scholastic toils? Yet, little as it is, the pupil's stupid body servant takes the first bite, and the steward will snip off a something for himself. Submit to it, Palæmon; let something be abated of your due, as if you were a-huckstering winter blankets and white counterpanes.

Here is his exhortation to those degenerate Roman nobles who prided themselves upon their blue blood and ancient names, but whose lives belied their birth. The sentiment may seem a commonplace, but it still inspires our modern poets, as in Tennyson:

'Tis only noble to be good.
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood.

Of what avail are pedigrees? What boots it, Ponticus, taking rank by length of descent, and having one's ancestors' portrait-masks to show off? What do you gain by the display of a Corvinus in your big family roll, or by your affinity with smoke-begrimed Masters of the Horse, if you live a life of shame in the very face of the Lepidi?... No, though time-honored waxen likenesses adorn the length and breadth of your hall, still virtue is the sole and only nobility. Be a Paulus, a Cossus, or a Drusus in character. Rank that above the statues of your ancestors. The first thing you are bound to show me is a good heart. If by word and deed you deserve the character of a blameless man, one who cleaves to the right—good: I recognize the noble; I salute you, Gætulicus be you, or Silanus, or of whatever other blood you come.... For who will call "noble" one who shames his race, and challenges notice by the luster of his name alone?

The very horse is ranked and valued by what he does; so much more man, and besides, noblesse oblige:

He is a "noble" steed, whatever grass he comes from, who takes rank above his fellows—in pace, and who raises the dust upon the course ahead of all; but the progeny of Coryphæus and Hirpinus are "stock for sale"—if Victory has rarely perched on their collar. There is no regard for ancestors, no favoritism toward the shades of the departed.... Therefore, so that we may admire yourself and not your belongings, give me something of your own to carve 'neath your statue, beyond the honors which we have rendered, and render still, to those who made you all you are.

Juvenal's most famous satire is the tenth, upon the theme "The Vanity of Human Wishes." It is more general in scope than the other satires, but is nevertheless full of the moral earnestness that everywhere characterizes the author. Here is the broad thesis:

Through all lands but few are they who can clear themselves of the mists of errors, and discriminate between the real blessings and what are quite the reverse. For in what fear or wish of ours are we guided by reason's rule? No matter how auspiciously you start with a plan, do you not live to regret your efforts and the attainment of your desire? Whole households have been overthrown ere now, at their own petition, by a too gracious heaven. By the arts of peace and war alike we strive for what will only hurt us.

Wealth is notoriously a fatal gift, and should be shunned, not sought. No one need fear poison if he drinks his wine out of a cheap cup. If the love of money is the root of all evil, the possession of money is a challenge to all evil-doers. What, then, may one rightly desire? Power? This is just as fatal to its possessor.