Classic Poem

S CIPIO to C ATO .

T H ough all the Actions of your Life are crown'd
With Wisdom, nothing makes them more Renown'd,
Than that those Years, which others think extreme,
Nor to your self, nor us, uneasie seem;
Under which weight, most like th'old Giants groan,
When Ætna on their backs by Jove was thrown.
  Cat. What you urge, Scipio , from right Reason flows;
All parts of Age seem burthensome to those,
Who Virtue's and true Wisdom's happiness
Cannot discern; but they who those possess,
In what's impos'd by Nature find no grief,
Of which our Age is (next our Death) the chief,
Which though all equally desire t'obtain,
Yet when they have obtain'd it , they complain;
Such our Inconstancies and Follies are,
We say it steals upon us unaware:
Our want of Reas'ning these false Measures makes,
Youth runs to Age, as Childhood Youth o'ertakes.
How much more grievous would our Lives appear'
To reach th'eighth Hundred, than the Eightieth Year?
Of what, in that long space of Time hath past,
To foolish Age will no Remembrance last.
My Age's conduct when you seem t'admire,
(Which that it may deserve, I much desire)
'Tis my first Rule, on Nature, as my Guide
Appointed by the Gods, I have rely'd;
And Nature, (which all Acts of Life designs)
Not like ill Poets, in the last declines:
But some one part must be the last of all,
Which like ripe Fruits, must either rot, or fall,
And this from Nature must be gently born,
Else her (as Giants did the Gods) we scorn.
  Læl. But Sir, 'tis Scipio 's, and my Desire,
Since to long Life we gladly would aspire,
That from your grave Instructions we might hear,
How we, like you, may this great burthen bear.
  Cat. This I resolv'd before, but now shall do
With great delight, since 'tis requir'd by you.
  Læl. If to your self it will not tedious prove,
Nothing in us a greater Joy can move,
That as old Travellers the young instruct,
Your long, our short Experience may conduct.
  Cat. 'Tis true, (as the old Proverb doth relate)
Equals with Equals often congregrate.
Two Consuls (who in years my Equals were)
When Senators, lamenting I did hear,
That Age from them had all their Pleasures torn,
And them their former Suppliants snow corn:
They, what is not to be accus'd, accuse,
Not others, but themselves their Age abuse;
Else this might me concern, and all my Friends,
Whose chearful Age, with Honour, Youth attends,
Joy'd that from Pleasure's slav'ry they are free,
And all Respects due to their Age they see.
In its true colours, this Complaint appears
The ill effect of Manners, not of Years,
For on their Life no grievous burthen lies,
Who are Well-natur'd, Temperate, and Wise:
But an inhumane, and ill-temper'd Mind,
Not any easie part in Life can find.
  Læl. This I believe; yet others may dispute,
Their Age (as yours) can never bear such fruit,
Of Honour, Wealth, and Pow'r, to make them sweet,
Not every one such Happiness can meet.
  Cat. Some weight your Argument, my Lælius , bears,
But not so much, as at first sight appears.
This answer by Themistocles was made,
(When a Seriphian thus did him upbraid,
You those great Honours to your Contry owe,
Not to your self) Had I at Seripho
Been born, such Honour I had never seen;
Nor you if an Athenian you had been:
So Age, cloath'd in undecent Poverty,
To the most prudent cannot easie be;
But to a Fool, the greater his estate,
The more uneasie is his Age's weight.
Age's chief Arts, and Arms, are to grow wise,
Virtue to know, and known, to exercise;
All just returns to Age then Virtue makes,
Nor her in her extremity forsakes,
The sweetest Cordial we receive at last,
Is conscience of our Virtuous Actions past.
I, (when a Youth) with Reverence did look
On Quintus Fabius , who Tarentum took,
Yet in his Age such chearfulness was seen,
As if his Years and mine had equal been,
His Gravity was mixt with Gentleness,
Nor had his Age made his good Humour less,
Then was he well in years (the same that he
Was Consul, that of my Nativity)
(A Stripling then) in his fourth Consulate
On him at Capua I in Arms did wait.
I five years after at Tarentum wan
The Quæstorship, and then our Love began,
And four years after, when I Prætor was,
He Pleaded, and the Cincian Law did pass.
With youthful diligence he us'd t'ingage,
Yet with the temperate Arts of patient Age
He breaks fierce Hannibal 's insulting heats;
Of which exploit thus our Friend Ennius treats,
He by delay restor'd the Common-wealth,
Nor preferr'd Rumour before publick Health.