HORACE, who was gay, and lively, and gentle, and affectionate, seems fitted for the period in which he wrote. He had seen the worst times of the republic, and might therefore, with no great suspicion of his integrity, be allowed to acquiesce in the infant monarchy, which brought with it stability, peace, and pleasure. How he reconciled himself to his political tergiversation it is useless to inquire.[19] What was so general, we may suppose, brought with it but little obloquy; and it should be remembered, to his praise, that he took no active part in the government which he had once opposed.[20] If he celebrates the master of the world, it is not until he is asked by him whether he is ashamed that posterity should know them to be friends; and he declines a post, which few of his detractors have merit to deserve, or virtue to refuse. His choice of privacy, however, was in some measure constitutional; for he had an easiness of temper which bordered on indolence; hence he never rises to the dignity of a decided character. Zeno and Epicurus share his homage and undergo his ridicule by turns: he passes without difficulty from one school to another, and he thinks it a sufficient excuse for his versatility, that he continues, amid every change, the zealous defender of virtue. Virtue, however, abstractedly considered, has few obligations to his zeal. But though, as an ethical writer, Horace has not many claims to the esteem of posterity; as a critic, he is entitled to all our veneration. Such is the soundness of his judgment, the correctness of his taste, and the extent and variety of his knowledge, that a body of criticism might be selected from his works, more perfect in its kind than any thing which antiquity has bequeathed us. As he had little warmth of temper, he reproves his contemporaries without harshness. He is content to "dwell in decencies," and, like Pope's courtly dean, "never mentions hell to ears polite." Persius, who was infinitely better acquainted with him than we can pretend to be, describes him, I think, with great happiness: "Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico Tangit, et admissus circum præcordia ludit, Callidus excusso populum suspendere naso." "He, with a sly insinuating grace, Laugh'd at his friend, and look'd him in the face: Would raise a blush, where secret vice he found, And tickle, while he gently probed the wound: With seeming innocence the crowd beguiled; But made the desperate passes when he smiled." These beautiful lines have a defect under which Dryden's translations frequently labor; they do not give the true sense of the original. Horace "raised no blush" (at least Persius does not insinuate any such thing), and certainly "made no desperate passes."[21] His aim rather seems to be, to keep the objects of his satire in good humor with himself, and with one another.