self-control and temperance in all things, there would be no joy without remorse, no pleasure without fatigue--that it is from within that happiness must come, if it come at all, and that unless the mind has schooled itself to peace by the renunciation of covetous desires, "We may be wise, or rich, or great, But never can be blest." And as he spoke, so they must have seen he lived. Wealth and honours would manifestly have been bought too dearly at the sacrifice of the tranquillity and independence which he early set before him as the objects of his life. "The content, surpassing wealth, The sage in meditation found;" the content which springs from living in consonance with the dictates of nature, from healthful pursuits, from a conscience void of offence; the content which is incompatible with the gnawing disquietudes of avarice, of ambition, of social envy,--with that in his heart, he knew he could be true to his genius, and make life worth living for. A man of this character must always be rare; least of all was he likely to be common in Horace's day, when the men in whose circle he was moving were engaged in the great task of crushing the civil strife which had shaken the stability of the Roman power, and of consolidating an empire greater and more powerful than her greatest statesmen had previously dreamed of. But all the more delightful to these men must it have been to come into intimate contact with a man who, while perfectly appreciating their special gifts and aims, could bring them back from the stir and excitement of their habitual life to think of other things than social or political successes,--to look into their own hearts, and to live for a time for something better and more enduring than the triumphs of vanity or ambition. Horace from the first seems to have wisely determined to keep himself free from those shackles which most men are so eager to forge for themselves, by setting their heart on wealth and social distinction. With perfect sincerity he had told Maecenas, as we have seen, that he coveted neither, and he gives his reasons thus (Satires, I. 6):-- "For then a larger income must be made, Men's favour courted, and their whims obeyed; Nor could I then indulge a lonely mood, Away from town, in country solitude, For the false retinue of pseudo-friends, That all my movements servilely attends. More slaves must then be fed, more horses too, And chariots bought. Now have I nought to do, If I would even to Tarentum ride, But mount my bobtailed mule, my wallets tied Across his flanks, which, napping as we go, With my ungainly ankles to and fro, Work his unhappy sides a world of weary woe."