an honest pride in his own station, and who could be grateful without being obsequious. Horace is never weary of acknowledging how much he owes to his friend. When he praises him, it is without flattery. When he soothes his anxieties, or calms his fears, the words glow with unmistakeable sincerity. When he resists his patron's wishes, he is firm without being ungracious. When he sports with his foibles, he is familiar without the slightest shade of impertinence.

By Mæcenas Horace was introduced to Octavius, most probably soon after the period just referred to. In A. U. C. 717, a year after Horace had been admitted into the circle of his friends, Mæcenas went to Brundusium, charged by Octavius to negociate a treaty with Marcus Antonius. On this journey he was accompanied by Horace, who has left a graphic record of its incidents (Sat. 1. V). It is probable that upon this occasion, or about this time, the poet was brought to the notice of the future emperor. Between the time of his return from this journey and the year 722, Horace, who had in the meantime given to the world many of his poems, including the ten Satires of the first book, received from Mæcenas the gift of the Sabine farm, which at once afforded him a competency and all the pleasures of a country life. The gift was a slight one for Mæcenas to bestow, but he no doubt made it as the fittest and most welcome which he could offer to his friend. It made Horace happy. It gave him leisure and amusement, and opportunities for that calm intercourse with nature which he "needed for his spirit's health." Never was a gift better bestowed or better requited. It at once prompted much of that poetry which has made Mæcenas famous, and has afforded ever new delight to successive generations. The Sabine farm was situated in the valley of Ustica about twelve miles from Tibur (Tivoli), and, among its other charms, possessed the valuable attraction for Horace, that it was within an easy

distance of Rome.

When his spirits wanted the stimulus of society or the bustle of the capital, which they often did, his ambling mule could speedily convey him thither; and when jaded, on the other hand, by

The noise, and strife, and questions wearisome,

And the vain splendours of imperial Rome,

he could, by the same easy means of transport, in a few hours bury himself among the hills, and there, under the shadow of his favourite Lucretilis, or by the banks of the Digentia, either stretch himself to dream upon the grass, lulled by the murmurs of the stream, or look after the culture of his fields, and fancy himself a farmer. The site of this farm has been pretty accurately ascertained, and it is at the present day a favourite resort of travellers, especially of Englishmen, who visit it in such numbers, and trace its features with so much enthusiasm, that the resident peasantry, "who cannot conceive of any other source of interest in one so long dead and unsainted, than that of co-patriotism or consanguinity," believe Horace to have been an Englishman.* The property was of moderate size, and produced corn, olives, and wine, but was not highly cultivated. Here Horace spent a considerable part of every year. The Sabine farm was very retired, being about four miles from Varia (Vico Varo), the nearest town, well covered with timber, and traversed by a small but sparkling stream. It gave employment to five families of free coloni, who were under the superintendence of a bailiff; and, besides these, eight slaves were attached to the poet's establishment. With his inexpensive habits this little property was sufficient for all his wants. He describes himself, as Satis beatus unicis Sabinis,

With what I have completely blest,

My happy little Sabine nest.

See Letter by Mr. Dennis. Milman's Horace, London, 1849. p. 109.

(Odes, II. xviii.) Here he could entertain a stray friend from town, his patron Mæcenas, upon occasion, and the delights of this agreeable retreat, and the charm of the poet's society, were doubtless more than a compensation for the plain fare or the thin home-grown wine, Vile Sabinum, with which its resources alone enabled him to regale them.

The life of Horace, from the time of his intimacy with Mæcenas, appears to have been one of comparative ease and of great social enjoyment. Augustus soon admitted him to his favour, and, according to the memoir by Suetonius, ultimately sought to attach him to his person in the capacity of secretary. This offer Horace was prudent and firm enough to decline; while at the same time he had the tact not to offend the master of the world by his refusal. To the close of his life his favour at court continued without a cloud. Augustus not only liked the man, but entertained a profound admiration for the poet. Believing in the immortality of his writings, it was natural the emperor should cultivate the good will and seek to secure the "deathless meed" of his favourite's song. That Horace had fought with Brutus against him did not operate to his prejudice. To have espoused the cause, and enjoyed the confidence of one whose nobility of purpose his adversaries never scrupled to acknowledge, formed, indeed, in itself a claim upon his successful rival's esteem. Horace was no renegade; he was not ashamed of the past, and Mæcenas and Augustus were just the men to respect him for his independence, and to like him the better for it. They could appreciate his superiority to the herd of parasites and time-servers around them; and, like all the greatest actors on the political stage, they were above the petty rancours of party jealousy, or the desire to enforce a renunciation of convictions opposite to their own. Doubtless it was by never stooping to them unduly that Horace secured their esteem,

and maintained himself upon a footing of equality with them, as nearly as the difference of rank would allow. There is no reason to suspect Horace, in the praises which he has recorded of Augustus, either of insincerity or sycophancy. He was able to contrast the comparative security of life and property, the absence of political turmoil, and the developement of social ease and happiness which his country enjoyed under the masterly administration of Augustus, with the disquietude and strife under which it had languished for so many years. The days of a republic had gone by, and an enlightened despotism must have been welcomed by a country shaken by a long period of civil commotion, and sick of seeing itself played for as the stake of reckless and ambitious men. He was near enough to the councils of the world's master to understand his motives and to appreciate his policy; and his intimate personal intercourse with both Augustus and Mæcenas must have enabled him to do fuller justice both to their intentions and their capacity, than was possible, perhaps, to any other man of his time.

The envy which his intimacy with these two foremost men of all the world for a time excited in Roman society by degrees gave way, as years advanced, and the causes of their esteem came to be better understood. Their favour did not spoil him. He was ever the same kindly, urbane, and simple man of letters he had originally been, never presuming upon his position, nor looking superciliously on others less favoured than himself. At the same time, there must have been that about him which inspired respect. The author of the Satires was not a man to be trifled with. Like all men of fixed principles, however gentle, he could strike, and sternly too, upon occasion. Essentially generous and genial, however, years only mellowed his wisdom, and gave a finer polish to his verse. The unaffected sincerity of his nature, and the rich

vein of his genius, made him courted by the opulent and noble. (Odes, 11. xviii. 9 et seq.) He mixed on easy terms with the choicest society of Rome; and what must that society have been, which included Virgil, Varius, Plotius, Tibullus, Pollio, and a host of others, who were not only ripe scholars, but had borne and were bearing a leading part in the great actions and events of that memorable epoch?

It is to this period that the composition of his principal odes is to be attributed. To these, of all his writings, Horace himself appears to have ascribed the greatest value, and, if we are to read literally the language of the last odes of the Second and Third Books, to have rested upon them his claims to posthumous fame, They were the result of great labour, as he himself indicates: " Operosa parvus Carmina fingo" (Odes, Iv. ii. 31); so thoroughly, however, was the art which produced them veiled in the result, that they bear pre-eminently the charm of simplicity and ease. He claims to have been the first to mould the Latin tongue to the Greek lyric measures-in this ignoring the admirable efforts of Catullus in a similar direction; and his success in this difficult task may be estimated from the fact, that, as he was virtually the first, so was he the greatest of the Roman lyrists. It has become the fashion with certain grammarians of late years to decry his versification as defective. It may be so; but we would rather follow the opinions of his contemporaries and countrymen on this point. Ovid expressed a different opinion in the well-known lines:

Et tenuit nostras numerosus Horatius aures,

Dum ferit Ausonia carmina culta lyra.

IV. Trist. xlix. Eleg. 10.

Oft on Horatius' tuneful strains I've hung,

Whilst to his sweet Ausonian lyre he sung.

Quinctilian's criticism upon the Odes can scarcely be im