It is pleasant to turn to the better side of Martial's character. No writer has ever given more charming expression to his affection for his friends. It is for Decianus and Julius Martialis that he keeps the warmest place in his heart. In poems like the following there is no doubting the sincerity of his feeling or questioning the perfection of its expression:
si quis erit raros inter numerandus amicos, quales prisca fides famaque novit anus, si quis Cecropiae madidus Latiaeque Minervae artibus et vera simplicitate bonus, si quis erit recti custos, mirator honesti, et nihil arcano qui roget ore deos, si quis erit magnae subnixus robore mentis: dispeream si non hic Decianus erit (i. 39).
Is there a man whose friendship rare With antique friendship may compare; In learning steeped, both old and new, Yet unpedantic, simple, true; Whose soul, ingenuous and upright, Ne'er formed a wish that shunned the light, Whose sense is sound? If such there be, My Decianus, thou art he. PROFESSOR GOLDWIN SMITH
Even more charming, if less intense, is the exhortation to Julius Martialis to live while he may, ere the long night come that knows no waking:
o mihi post nullos, Iuli, memorande sodales, si quid longa fides canaque iura valent, bis iam paene tibi consul tricensimus instat, et numerat paucos vix tua vita dies. non bene distuleris videas quae posse negari, et solum hoc ducas, quod fuit, esse tuum. exspectant curaeque catenatique labores: gaudia non remanent, sed fugitiva volant. haec utraque manu complexuque adsere toto: saepe fluunt imo sic quoque lapsa sinu. non est, crede mihi, sapientis dicere 'vivam '. sera nimis vita est crastina: vive hodie (i. 15).
Friend of my heart--and none of all the band Has to that name older or better right: Julius, thy sixtieth winter is at hand, Far-spent is now life's day and near the night. Delay not what thou would'st recall too late; That which is past, that only call thine own: Cares without end and tribulations wait, Joy tarrieth not, but scarcely come, is flown. Then grasp it quickly firmly to thy heart,-- Though firmly grasped, too oft it slips away;-- To talk of living is not wisdom's part: To-morrow is too late: live thou to-day! PROFESSOR GOLDWIN SMITH