The Epistle to the Pisos does not profess to be a complete exposition of the poet's art. It glances only at small sections of that wide theme. So far as it goes, it is all gold, full of most instructive hints for a sound critical taste and a pure literary style. It was probably meant to cure the younger Piso of that passion for writing verse which had, as we have seen, spread like a plague among the Romans, and which made a visit to the public baths a penance to critical ears,--for there the poetasters were always sure of an audience,--and added new terrors to the already sufficiently formidable horrors of the Roman banquet. [Footnote: This theory has been worked out with great ability by the late M. A. Baron, in his 'Epitre d'Horace aux Pisons sur l'Art Poétique'--Bruxelles, 1857; which is accompanied by a masterly translation and notes of great value.] When we find an experienced critic like Horace urging young Piso, as he does, to keep what he writes by him for nine years, the conclusion is irresistible, that he hoped by that time the writer would see the wisdom of suppressing his crude lucubrations altogether. No one knew better than Horace that first-class work never wants such protracted mellowing. Soon, after this poem was written the great palace on the Esquiline lost its master. He died (B.C. 8) in the middle of the year, bequeathing his poet-friend to the care of Augustus in the words "_Horati Flacci, ut mei, esto memor_,"--"Bear Horace in your memory as you would myself." But the legacy was not long upon the emperor's hands. Seventeen years before, Horace had written: "Think not that I have sworn a bootless oath; Yes, we shall go, shall go, Hand linked in hand, where'er thou leadest, both The last sad road below."