s values.

Horace is the poet of friendship. With his address to "Virgil, the half
of my soul," his references to Plotius, Varius, and Virgil as the purest
and whitest souls of earth, his affectionate messages in _Epistle_ and
_Ode_, he sets the heart of the reader aglow with love for his friends.
"Nothing, while in my right mind, would I compare to the delight of a
friend!" What numbers of men have had their hearts stirred to deeper
love by the matchless ode to Septimius:

"S_eptimius, who with me would brave_
F_ar Gades, and Cantabrian land_
U_ntamed by Rome, and Moorish wave_
T_hat whirls the sand_;

"F_air Tibur, town of Argive kings_,
T_here would I end my days serene_,
A_t rest from seas and travelings_,
A_nd service seen_.

"S_hould angry Fate those wishes foil_,
T_hen let me seek Galesus, sweet_
T_o skin-clad sheep, and that rich soil_,
T_he Spartan's seat_.

"O_h, what can match the green recess_,
W_hose honey not to Hybla yields_,
W_hose olives vie with those that bless_
V_enafrum's fields_?

"L_ong springs, mild winters glad that spot_
B_y Jove's good grace, and Aulon, dear_
T_o fruitful Bacchus, envies not_
F_alernian cheer_.

"T_hat spot, those happy heights desire_
O_ur sojourn; there, when life shall end_,
Y_our tear shall dew my yet warm pyre_,
Y_our bard and friend_."

And what numbers of men have taken to their hearts from the same ode the
famous

Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes
Angulus ridet,--

Y_onder little nook of earth_
B_eyond all others smiles on me_,--

and expressed through its perfect phrase the love they bear their own
beloved nook of earth. "Happy Horace!" writes Sainte-Beuve on the margin
of his edition, "what a fortune has been his! Why, because he once
expressed in a few charming verses his fondness for the life of the
country and described his favorite corner of earth, the lines composed
for his own pleasure and for the friend to whom he addressed them have
laid hold on the memory of all men and have become so firmly lodged
there that one can conceive no others, and finds only those when he
feels the need of praising his own beloved retreat!"

To speak of sterner virtues, what a source of inspiration to
righteousness and constancy men have found in the apt and undying
phrases of Horace! "Cornelius de Witt, when confronting the murderous
mob; Condorcet, perishing in the straw of his