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     <p>But I said that he flowed muddily, frequently indeed bearing along more things which ought
      to be taken away than left. Be it so; do you, who are a scholar, find no fault with any thing
      in mighty Homer, I pray? Does the facetious Lucilius make no alterations in the tragedies of
      Accius? Does not he ridicule many of Ennius' verses, which are too light for the gravity [of
      the subject]? When he speaks of himself by no means as superior to what he blames. What should
      hinder me likewise, when I am reading the works of Lucilius, from inquiring whether it be his
      [genius], or the difficult nature of his subject, that will not suffer his verses to be more
      finished, and to run more smoothly than if some one, thinking it sufficient to conclude a
      something of six feet, be fond of writing two hundred verses before he eats, and as many after
      supper? Such was the genius of the Tuscan Cassius, more impetuous than a rapid river; who, as
      it is reported, was burned [at the funeral pile] with his own books<note anchored="yes" n="15" resp="McCaul" place="unspecified">
       <p>The funeral piles on which dead bodies were burned were made of wood. Cassius had written
        so much, that <placeName key="tgn,2399200" authname="tgn,2399200">Horace</placeName> sportively gives it as a
        rumor, that his books formed his funeral pile. MCCAUL.</p>
      </note> and papers. Let it be allowed, I say, that Lucilius was a humorous and polite writer;
      that he was also more correct than [Ennius], the author<note anchored="yes" n="16" resp="TAB" place="unspecified">
       <p>There is a great variation in the interpretation of this passage. They may be found
        collected in MCCAUL's notes. </p>
      </note> of a kind of poetry [not yet] well cultivated, nor attempted by the Greeks, and [more
      correct likewise] than the tribe of our old poets: but yet he, if he had been brought down by
      the Fates to this age of ours, would have retrenched a great deal from his writings: he would
      have pruned off every thing that transgressed the limits of perfection; and, in the
      composition of verses, would often have scratched his head, and bit his nails to the quick.</p>
     <p>You that intend to write what is worthy to be read more than once, blot frequently: and take
      no pains to make the multitude admire you, content with a few [judicious] readers. What, would
      you be such a fool as to be ambitious that your verses should be taught in petty schools? That
      is not my case. It is enough for me, that the knight [Maecenas] applauds: as the courageous
      actress, Arbuscula, expressed herself, in contempt of the rest of the audience, when she was
      hissed [by the populace]. What, shall that grubworm Pantilius<note anchored="yes" n="17" resp="watson" place="unspecified">
       <p>Pantilius. A buffoon, and a great enemy of Horace, whom he calls Cimex, an insect, out of
        contempt. Fannius is the same of whom he speaks in <bibl n="Hor. S. 4" default="NO" valid="yes">Satire iv.</bibl></p>
      </note> have any effect upon me? Or can it vex me, that Demetrius carps at me behind my back?
      or because the trifler Fannius, that hanger-on to Hermogenes Tigellius, attempts to hurt me?
      May Plotius and Varius, Maecenas and <placeName key="tgn,1015191" authname="tgn,1015191">Virgil</placeName>, Valgius
      and Octavius<note anchored="yes" n="18" resp="TAB" place="unspecified">
       <p>Octavius. An excellent poet and historian. The Visci were two brothers, and both senators.
        Bibulus was the son of him that had been consul in 695, and Servius the son of Servius
        Sulpicius, who corresponded with <placeName key="tgn,2068515" authname="tgn,2068515">Cicero</placeName>. Furnius
        was consul in the year <date value="-16" authname="-16">737</date>, and equally master of the pen and the
        sword.</p>
      </note> approve these Satires, and the excellent Fuscus likewise; and I could wish that both
      the Visci would join in their commendations: ambition apart, I may mention you, O Pollio: you
      also, Messala, together with your brother; and at the same time, you, Bibulus and Servius; and
      along with these you, candid Furnius; many others whom, though men of learning and my friends,
      I purposely omit — to whom I could wish these Satires, such as they are, may give
      satisfaction; and I should be chagrined, if they pleased in a degree below my expectation.
      You, Demetrius, and you, Tigellius, I bid lament among the forms of your female pupils.</p>
     <p>Go, boy, and instantly annex this Satire to the end of my book. </p>
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