beauty when too late, and the consciousness of a corroding secret which no other heart can share. It would be easy to select other passages which evince remarkable dramatic power. One of the most striking is the dialogue in the fifth satire between Indolence and Cupidity, admirably rendered by Dryden. The elevated morality of Persius is accompanied, as we might expect, by a deep sense of religion; but his piety is of that practical cast which would approve itself to a Roman moralist—judging purity of intent to be more acceptable in the sight of heaven than costly sacrifice, and bidding men ask of the gods such things only as immortal beings would wish to grant. He rebukes in the severest terms the base hypocrisy and superstition which made its gods in its own likeness, and wickedly thought its creator to be even such an one as itself; offering up those prayers in secret which it was ashamed to utter in public; and trying to bribe heaven with gifts to fulfil its low and selfish desires. One deficiency we note in Persius, which in a person of his earnest and ardent character we should hardly have expected. There is no trace of that political feeling which might have been looked for in the writings of a youth who was brought into frequent contact with the revolutionary enthusiasm of Lucan, and may probably have been present at one of the banquets where Thrasea and Helvidius used to celebrate the birthdays of the first and the last of the great republican worthies. Yet the eloquent moralist utters no single word on the political aspect of the times; no breath of indignation at the servile submission of his countrymen, of consolation for broken-hearted patriots, of encouragement for the few gallant spirits who still might hope for better days to come. He betrays no consciousness of the degradation of Rome, no yearning for the recovery of her ancient liberties. A single allusion to the freedom of the Athenians of old suggests only the recollection of the deceptions practised on them by their demagogues; he makes no reference to the departed glories of the senate—once the real bulwark of Roman independence, in his day only the mere shadow of a great name. But in truth the wickedness and corruption of that age and government, was such as to deter most good and honourable men from taking any part in public affairs. Under such a ruler as Nero, banishment or death must have been anticipated as a probable contingency by every man of high principle, however cautious he might be to avoid all political combinations; and the example of Seneca could scarcely be an encouragement to a philosopher to venture into the dangerous atmosphere of the Roman court. Prudence too, and his entire inexperience of the world, may have contributed to keep Persius silent on state affairs. Although he borrowed much from Lucilius and Horace, yet all that is valuable in the satires seems clearly to be his own. Probably no author ever took so much from others, and yet left on the mind so distinct an impression of originality. In some respects his genius was perhaps cramped by his philosophical system; and in like manner his humanity, though genial in its practical aspect, is narrowed on its speculative side by the old sectarian exclusiveness which barred the path of life to every one not entering through the gate of philosophy. In short, he is a disciple of the earlier stoicism of the empire; a Roman in his predilection for the ethical part of his creed, yet conforming in other respects to the primitive traditions of Greece; neither a patriot nor a courtier, but a recluse student; an ardent teacher of the truths which he had himself learnt, without the development which might have been generated by more mature thought, or the abatement which might have been forced on him by longer experience. The language of Persius is singularly harsh, involved, and difficult; but when we consider how simple, graceful, and perspicuous his expressions are in the passage where he addresses Cornutus in Sat. v., we are constrained to believe that he purposely and deliberately adopted the very peculiar style which he commonly uses, for reasons of his own. He seems to have felt that a clear, straightforward, everyday manner of speech, would not suit a subject over which the gods themselves might hesitate whether to laugh or weep. He has to write the tragi-comedy of his age, and he does it in a dialect where grandiose epic diction and philosophical terminology are strangely blended with the talk of the gymnasia, and the barber's shop. In this he resembles a distinguished author of our own time, who seems to have been driven by similar causes to adopt a similar diction. The best edition of Persius is by Otto Jahn, Leipsic, 1843, who has done more to elucidate this writer than any scholar since Casaubon.—G.
PERTHES, Friedrich Christoph, a distinguished German bookseller and publisher, was born at Rudolstadt, 21st April, 1772. Having in early youth lost his father, he was apprenticed with a bookseller at Leipsic, and in 1793 proceeded to Hamburg, where he soon established himself on his own account, and afterwards formed a lasting partnership with his brother-in-law, Besser. By his marriage with the eldest daughter of the poet Claudius, he became introduced into the best literary circles of Northern Germany, and formed connections with the most distinguished men of letters. In 1813 he took a prominent part in the defence of Hamburg against the French, but lost almost all his property, and was compelled to seek safety in flight. After the restoration of peace he succeeded in restoring his business, and carrying it even to a more thriving condition than before. In 1821 he removed to Gotha, where he died. May 18, 1843.—(See Life by his son, Clemens Theodor Perthes, 1848-51, 2 vols.)—K. E.
PERTINAX, Publius Helvius, Emperor of Rome 193, was the son of a freedman who followed the trade of a charcoal-burner. He was born in 126 at Alba Pompeia in Liguria, and at first he seems to have worked at his father's trade. He afterwards became a grammarian, but becoming dissatisfied with this profession, he joined the army. His rise from one rank to another was slow, but in 179 he attained the high office of consul, along with Didius Julianus. After this he commanded in Moesia and Dacia, was governor first of Syria and then of Britain, and in 192 was appointed consul for the second time. In the end of that year the Emperor Commodus was strangled by Narcissus the gladiator, and Pertinax is suspected of having been privy to the assassination. It was he, at all events, more than any other, who profited by the death of the emperor, for he was immediately called to the throne. During his short reign he introduced many salutary reforms in the administration of the empire; but several of these were distasteful to the soldiery, by whose influence Pertinax had at first obtained the purple, and conspiracy after conspiracy was formed against him. The malcontents were not long unsuccessful, for in March, 193, Pertinax fell a victim to the dagger of a body of the guards, after a reign of scarcely three months' duration.—D. M.
PERUGINO, Pietro, the name by which Pietro Vannucci, the chief of the Umbrian painters, is commonly known, from the place of his residence (not birth), Perugia. He was born at Citta della Pieve about 1446. His early education is unknown, but he acquired some distinction at Florence about 1470, when he is said to have been studying with Andrea Verocchio. Ten years later we find him engaged on important works in fresco in the pope's palace of the Vatican at Rome. On his return to Perugia in 1495 he opened an academy, which had the honour of being the nursery of the great Raphael. Pietro Perugino was really an admirable painter, and one of the greatest of his age, though he never adopted the improved taste of the sixteenth century. He remained always faithful to the style of his own century, the quattrocentismo, and openly expressed his dislike of the innovations in art established by Michelangelo and the other great masters of the cinquecento. He was less influenced by the enlarged art of the sixteenth century even than Francia, whom he survived some years. Pietro was, however, one of the first to thoroughly appreciate oil-painting; he had great taste in colour, and at once recognized the advantage of this new method over the old practice of tempera painting, in which the colours were neither so bright, nor was it possible so thoroughly to blend them, as in the newly-established method of oil or varnish painting. The National gallery possesses examples of both those styles by Perugino—a small Madonna and Child, with St. John, in tempera; and an altarpiece, in three compartments, formerly at Pavia, in oil colours. His colouring is nearly always admirable, his heads are frequently beautifully drawn, and his figures generally are conspicuous both for their grace and refinement, though commonly drawn in a little, and even in a mean manner. The "Deposition from the Cross" in the Pitti palace at Florence shows both his excellences, and perhaps his defects, in perfection; it was painted in 1495. After this time he married a young wife and settled in Perugia, of which place he was a citizen. In his later years he neglected his work, striving more to make money than excellent pictures; and Vasari tells us that his cupidity was latterly so great that he lost many commissions through it. He is represented as a very eccentric character for his time. He denied the immortality of the soul, refused even to confess when on his deathbed; and when remonstrated with, said he had a
