Horae

“ One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss; And oh! if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this!"
To leave the placens uxor—"the winsome wife"—behind, is one of the saddest regrets, Horace tells his friend Posthumus (Odes, II. 14) , which death can baring. Still Horace only sang the praises of marriage, contenting himself with painting the Eden within which, for reasons unknown to us, he never sought to enter. ”

“ The cause of all this aimless restlessness and unreasonable desire is summed up in the words “Strenua nos exercet inertia.”
In his Satires and Epistles Horace shows himself a genuine moralist, a subtle observer and true painter of life, and an admirable writer. But for both of these works he himself disclaims the title of poetry. He rests his claims as a poet on his Odes. They reveal an entirely different aspect of his genius, his spirit and his culture. He is one among the few great writers of the world who have attained high excellence in two widely separated provinces of literature. ”

“ Horace half raised himself on his elbow and looked around him. Not two yards from the spot on which he rested, he saw the kneeling form of Raphael, who was evidently engaged in prayer. The sight of him was to Horace like the sight of the sun-lit rocks;—something to witness to the existence of Heaven's light even in this abode of darkness. On the other side lay Enrico asleep, and the quiet which prevailed through the cave showed that the day wag but little advanced. ”

“ Horace is so associated with all the localities, that one would think it the most natural thing in the world to come upon him at any turning. His old familiar haunts rise up about us out of the dust of centuries. We see a short thick-set man come sauntering along, "more fat than bard beseems." As he passes, lost in reverie, many turn round and look at him. Some point him out to their companions, and by what they say, we learn that this is Horace, the favourite of Maecenas, the frequent visitor at the unpretending palace of Augustus, the self-made man and famous poet. ”

“ Horace looked distressed; his face began to twist itself out of shape.
"This very boy has a good many pieces of silver which were given him to buy fire-crackers. So you see, if he is truly sorry for his fault, he knows the way to atone for it."
Horace's conscience told him, by a twinge, that it would be no more than just for him to pay what he could for mending the watch. ”

“ It seemed to Horace that it was as well to humour him, and he got up accordingly, washed and shaved, and, putting on his dazzling robe of cloth-of-gold thickly sewn with gems, he joined Fakrash—who, by the way, was similarly, if less gorgeously, arrayed—in the sitting-room, in a state of some mystification.
"Eat quickly," commanded the Jinnee, "for the time is short." And Horace, after hastily disposing of a cold poached egg and a cup of coffee, happened to go to the windows. ”

“ Fakrash?" said Horace, between his teeth, "it is quite time we left. If you go at once, I will follow you very shortly."
"Thou wilt find me awaiting thee," answered the Jinnee, and, to Mrs. Futvoye's and Sylvia's alarm, disappeared through one of the bookcases.
"Well," said Horace, gloomily, "you see how I'm situated? That obstinate old devil has cornered me. I'm done for!"
"Don't say that," said the Professor; "you appear to be on the eve of a most brilliant alliance, in which I am sure you have our best wishes—the best wishes of us all," he added pointedly. ”

“ The odes of Horace, which are the best known and the most popular of his poems, are imitations of the poetry of the Greek lyrists, Alcæus, Sappho, Anacreon, and their followers, but the Greek originals are for the most part lost, so that Horace can not suffer by comparison with them. Moreover, modern taste is less pleased with epic than with lyric verse, and the delicate, highly finished, and charming odes of Horace appeal strongly to the cultivated modern reader. In his satires and epistles, too, Horace, whatever his indebtedness to Lucilius and others, displays undoubted originality. ”

“ No one knows how to take advantage of luck as he does. You would find me a valuable ally, if you would introduce me. I believe you might drive everybody else out of the field—with my help, of course.' 'You are quite mistaken there!' answered Horace, rather indignantly. 'He is not at all that kind of man! There is not a house in Rome where any sort of intrigue would be more utterly useless!' 'Really, I can hardly believe it!' 'It is a fact, nevertheless,' retorted Horace, stoutly. 'Well,' said the Bore, 'if it is, I am of course all the more anxious to know such a man!' Horace smiled quietly. ”

“ That last recollection raised in the bosom of Horace, a feeling of self-reproach. Except a few instinctive ejaculations, which could hardly be called prayers, since his capture he had neglected the duty of devotion. He had been so much taken up with his own hopes and fears, his difficulties and dangers, so great had been his eagerness to escape, and the excitement caused by the strange scenes passing around him, that Horace had not bent his knee in prayer, as he had been accustomed from childhood to do. ”

“ Remembering the directions of Raphael, Horace was about to track the upward course of the stream, when he was startled by a faint cry, as of a human voice, which mingled with the rushing noise of the cataract. Horace was not of a superstitious nature; but it is no marvel that, when his nerves were quivering from the tension required for a great effort—at that hour of night—in that desolate place—on the very spot where he believed that, but a few hours before, a miserable man had been swept into eternity— that cry should seem to curdle the blood in his veins. ”

“ Anhûri-Shû of Sebennytos and Thinis; Harmerati, Horus of the two eyes, at Pharbaethos; Har-Sapdi, Horus the source of the zodiacal light, in the Wâdy Tumilât; and finally Harhûdîti at Edfû. Râ, the solar disk, was enthroned at Heliopolis, and sun-gods were numerous among the nome deities, but they were sun-gods closely connected with gods representing the sky, and resembled Horus quite as much as Râ. Whether under the name of Horus or of Anhûri, the sky was early identified with its most brilliant luminary, its solar eye, and its divinity was as it were fused into that of the Sun. ”

“ The Odes of Horace, in particular, will, I think, strike a reader who comes back to them after reading other books, as distinguished by a simplicity, monotony, and almost poverty of sentiment, and as depending for the charm of their external form not so much on novel and ingenious images as on musical words aptly chosen and aptly combined. We are always hearing of wine-jars and Thracian convivialities, of parsley wreaths and Syrian nard; the graver topics, which it is the poet's wisdom to forget, are constantly typified by the terrors of quivered Medes and painted Gelonians ”

“ Over these landscapes with their artistic well-being, rests sure tradition of Roman ancestry.
[89]
In Horace, in Quintillian, we see beginning that perspicuity, sense of distinctions, that made Latin races—France in particular, supreme in criticism. There is in Horace a likeness to the French mind that blossomed in 1830.
Who can help loving this antique world Horace shows, which keeps so much that is fine? We love it too because it had no shadows. It was content. We love its persistent search for joy, its disdain of the unworthy. We love conviction that life is supreme. ”

“ The German Eduard 109 Stemplinger, in his Life of the Horatian Lyric Since the Renaissance, published in 1906, knows 90 English renderings of the entire Odes of Horace, 70 German, 100 French, and 48 Italian. Some are in prose, some even in dialect. The poet of Venusia is made a Burgundian, a Berliner, and even a Platt-deutsch. All of these are attempts to transfuse Horace into the veins of modern life, and are significant of their authors' conviction as to the vitalizing power of the ancient poet. No author from among the classics has been so frequently translated as Horace. ”

“ There is indeed nothing more remarkable in Horace than the independence, or rather the self-dependence, of his character. The enjoyment which he drew from his Sabine farm consisted partly in the refreshment to his spirit from the familiar beauty of the place, partly in the “otia liberrima” from the claims of business and society which it afforded him. His love poems, when compared with those of Catullus, Tibullus and Propertius, show that he never, in his mature years at least, allowed his peace of mind to be at the mercy of any one. ”

“ In this charming sketch of the peasant's life it is easy to see that Horace is drawing from nature, like Burns in his more elaborate picture of the "Cottar's Saturday Night." Horace had obviously watched closely the ways of the peasantry round his Apulian home, as he did at a later date those of the Sabine country, and to this we owe many of the most delightful passages in his works. He omits no opportunity of contrasting their purity of morals, and the austere self-denial of their life, with the luxurious habits and reckless vice of the city life of Rome. ”

“ Still there was in Horace a robuster fibre, inherited from the old Italian race, which moved him to value the dignity and nobleness of life more highly than its ease and enjoyment. In some of the stronger utterances of his Odes, where he expresses sympathy with the manlier qualities of character, we recognize the resistent attitude of Stoicism rather than the passive acquiescence of Epicureanism. ”

“ Horus is bitten, O Ra. Thy son is bitten, [O Osiris] . Horus is bitten, the flesh and blood of the Heir, the Lord of the diadems (?) of the kingdoms of Shu. Horus is bitten, the Boy of the marsh city of Ateh, the Child in the House of the Prince. The beautiful Child of gold is bitten, the Babe hath suffered pain and is not. [FN#238] Horus is bitten, he the son of Un-Nefer, who was born of Auh-mu (?) . Horus is bitten, he in whom there was nothing abominable, the son, the youth among the gods. ”

“ I see by your expression, Ventimore, that you don't agree with me, eh?"
Horace had to set his teeth hard for a moment, lest he should disgrace himself by a peal of untimely mirth—but by a strong effort of will he managed to command his muscles.
"Well, sir," he said, "I've only chanced to come into close contact with one mule in my life, and, frankly, I've no desire to repeat the experience."
"You happened to come upon an unfavourable specimen, that's all," said the Professor. "There are exceptions to every rule."
"This animal," Horace said, "was certainly exceptional enough in every way." ”

“ Still farther, Horace is an eloquent interpreter of the religion of the countryside. He knows, of course, the gods of Greece and the East,—Venus of Cythera and Paphos, of Eryx and Cnidus, Mercury, deity of gain and benefactor of men, Diana, Lady of the mountain and the glade, Delian Apollo, who bathes his unbound locks in the pure waters of Castalia, and Juno, sister and consort of fulminating Jove. He is impressed by the glittering pomp of religious processions winding their way to the summit of the Capitol. ”

“ Let him be cut in pieces, and let his bones be given to the cats, the fragments of him to the reptiles.
"O Horus, the Striker, the great One of Valour, the Slayer, the Chief of the Gods, the Harpooner, the Hero, the only begotten, Captor of captives, Horus of Edfu, Horus the Avenger!
"He has destroyed the wicked One, he has made a whirlpool with the blood of his enemy, his shaft has made a prey. Behold ye, see ye Horus at the prow of his boat. Like Ra, he shines on the horizon. ”

“ I suppose [Pg 175] you know where to find her—and you've only twenty-four hours, you know."
"More than is needed," answered the Jinnee, with such childlike confidence, that Horace felt almost ashamed of so easy a victory. "But the sun is already high. Arise, my son, put on these robes"—and with this he flung on the bed the magnificent raiment which Ventimore had last worn on the night of his disastrous entertainment—"and when thou hast broken thy fast, prepare to accompany me."
"Before I agree to that," said Horace, sitting up in bed, "I should like to know where you're taking me to." ”

“ Horace walked about among his school-fellows with quite an air, very proud of being the son of a man who either was now, or was going to be, the greatest officer in Indiana!
If any body else had shown as much self-esteem as Horace did, the boys would have said he had "the big head." When Yankee children think a playmate conceited, they call him "stuck up;" but Hoosier children say he has "the big head." No one spoke in this way of Horace, however, for there was something about him which made everybody like him, in spite of his faults. ”

“ Advancing imperceptibly, inch by inch, until he felt that he was within reach, suddenly Horace threw himself forward, holding his coat outstretched before him as he fell with all his weight on the eagle.
The rending beak and talons of the savage bird entangled in the yielding cloth. Horace, dragged over the ground by his captive's struggles, felt blindly with his hands until he grasped the creature's neck. ”

“ Horace, as he gazed after him, had a momentary glimpse of deep blue sky, with a star or two that seemed to be hurrying through the [Pg 113] transparent opal scud, before the roof closed in once more.
Then came a low, rumbling sound, with a shock like a mild earthquake: the slender pillars swayed under their horseshoe arches; the big hanging-lanterns went out; the walls narrowed, and the floor heaved and rose—till Ventimore found himself up in his own familiar sitting-room once more, in the dark. ”