Spartan Helen was not the sole woman inflamed by And the graces and pomp of a prince; Teucer bent not the first skilful bow of the Cretan; Troy was more than once harassed by valiant besiegers; Other chiefs, besides Sthenelus strong, Or Idomeneus mighty, achieved Deeds as worthy as theirs of a Muse to record them; Many brave men have lived long before Agamemnon, Little differs worth hidden from worthlessness buried; Fade in livid oblivion away. In the converse of life thine the provident wisdom, Neither bowed nor elate,-but erect; The avenger of greedy and fraudful Corruption, For thy mind must be always in power 'Vate sacro.' 'Sacro' here has the sense of making sacred, consecrating. 2. Secundis Temporibus dubiisque rectus.' Rectus needs, I think, the paraphrase in the translation, neither bowed nor elate;' not with head arrogantly lifted up in prosperous nor dejected in doubtful fortune. I agree with Orelli and Macleane in considering that Non sola comptos arsit adulteri Et comites Helene Lacæna ; Primusve Teucer tela Cydonio Dicenda Musis prælia; non ferox Conjugibus puerisque primus. Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Nocte, carent quia vate sacro.1 Paullum sepultæ distat inertiæ Chartis inornatum silebo, Totve tuos patiar labores Impune, Lolli, carpere lividas Vindex avaræ fraudis, et abstinens Sed quoties bonus atque fidus the lines refer to the defeat of Lollius in Germany; and it seems that not only Horace here emphatically seeks to pay tribute to the steadfastness and integrity of his friend's character, but in the concluding stanza to vindicate his courage, and intimate that he was the last man who would have feared death. Whensoever an arbiter, faithful to justice, Over what is expedient exalts what is honest, And through hosts clears, victorious, his way.1 It is not large possessions themselves that are blessings; All the gifts that he owes to the gods, He who hardens his soul to reverse and privation- Or the cause of his country, to die. The meaning of these lines seems explained by reference to Lib. III. Od. ii. lines 19, 20, 'Nec sumit aut ponit secures Arbitrio popularis auræ ;' i.e., Lollius is not the mere official consul of a single year—he never lays down the insignia of his majestic virtue. It seems to me that the image is still continued through the lines, 6 'Per obstantes catervas Explicuit sua victor arma." The lictors dispersed opposing crowds to make way for the consul; and arma' here may signify their axes. Yonge renders the passage yet more symbolically, in this eloquent paraphrase: The soul has an independent dignity so long as, true in principle and judgment, it rejects corruption, and bursts in a moral victory through the host of vices.' Ritter insists on construing the lines literally, and refers them to Lollius's military administration of his province. Judex honestum prætulit utili, Non possidentem multa vocaveris Recte beatum: rectius occupat Nomen beati, qui deorum Muneribus sapienter uti, Duramque callet pauperiem pati, Pejusque leto flagitium timet; Non ille pro caris amicis Aut patria timidus perire. ODE X. OMITTED. ODE XI. TO PHYLLIS. As Horace had before (Lib. III. Od. xxviii.) invited Lyde to the feast-day of Neptune, so he here invites Phyllis to celebrate the birthday of Mecenas in the Ides of April. The date of the ode cannot be determined, though it may be reasonably conjectured that when he speaks of Phyllis as his last love, he was of an age correspondent with the period at which the Fourth Book was published. Nevertheless this is no sure index; for, as Macleane shrewdly intimates, most men promise the woman they woo that she shall be the last love. To those who insist upon giving literal individual personality to the fictitious names Horace introduces into his poems, this poem would seem written at a much earlier period, since Telephus, that universal ladykiller, is still described as 'juvenis.' But we have already seen that 'juvenis' by no means necessarily signifies a youth. I do not believe, with Macleane, that Telephus I've a cask of rich Alban wine full in my cellar- Ivy too, ivy, Thou art dazzling whenever that binds up thy tresses. All my house laughs with plate; clasped around with chaste vervain, Lo, mine altar stands thirsting the blood of a lambkin Soon to be sprinkled. And all hands are at work; here and there run the servants, Men and maids, helter-skelter; the flame mounts in flicker, |