Seneca: DE CONSOLATIONE

*** nostrae compares, firma sunt; si redigas ad condicionem naturae omnia destruentis et unde edidit eodem revocantis, caduca sunt. Quid enim immortale manus mortales fecerunt? Septem illa miracula et si qua his multo mirabiliora sequentium annorum exstruxit ambitio aliquando solo aequata visentur.

*** when compared with our own, are firm; if you reduce them to the condition of nature, destroying all things and from where
it brought them forth recalling them to the same place, they are perishable. For what immortal thing have mortal hands made? Seven
those Wonders, and if the ambition of the succeeding years has erected any things much more miraculous than these, will someday be seen made equal to the ground.

Ita est: nihil perpetuum, pauca diuturna sunt; aliud alio modo fragile est, rerum exitus variantur, ceterum quicquid coepit et desinit. Mundo quidam minantur interitum et huc universum, quod omnia divina humanaque complectitur, si fas putas credere, dies aliquis dissipabit et in confusionem veterem tenebrasque demerget: eat nunc aliquis et singulas comploret animas; Carthaginis ac Numantiae Corinthique cinerem et si quid aliud altius cecidit lamentetur, cum etiam hoc quod non habet quo cadat sit interiturum; eat aliquis et fata tantum aliquando nefas ausura sibi non pepercisse conqueratur. Quis tam superbae impotentisque adrogantiae est, ut in hac naturae necessitate omnia ad eundem finem revocantis se unum ac suos seponi velit ruinaeque etiam ipsi mundo imminenti aliquam domum subtrahat?

So it is: nothing is perpetual, few things are long-lasting; one thing is fragile in one way, another in another,
the outcomes of things vary, moreover whatever has begun also ends. To the world some threaten destruction
and that this universe, which embraces all things divine and human, if you deem it right to believe, some day
will dissipate and will plunge into ancient confusion and into darkness: let someone now go and bewail individual
souls; let him lament the ash of Carthage and Numantia and Corinth, and whatever else has fallen from a higher height,
since even this which has nowhere to fall is going to perish; let someone go and complain that the Fates,
at times daring only sheer impiety, have not spared him. Who is of such proud and unbridled arrogance,
that, in this necessity of nature recalling all things to the same end, he wishes himself and his own
to be set aside, and would even subtract some household from the ruin impending upon the world itself?

Maximum ergo solacium est cogitare id sibi accidisse, quod omnes ante se passi sunt omnesque passuri; et ideo mihi videtur rerum natura, quod gravissimum fecerat, commune fecisse, ut crudelitatem fati consolaretur aequalitas.

Therefore the greatest solace is to think that that has happened to oneself which all before one have suffered and all will suffer; and therefore it seems to me that the nature of things, in what it had made most grievous, made it common, so that equality might console the cruelty of fate.

II.

Illud quoque te non minimum adiuverit, si cogitaveris nihil profuturum dolorem tuum nec illi, quem desideras, nec tibi; noles enim longum esse, quod inritum est. Nam si quicquam tristitia profecturi sumus, non recuso quicquid lacrimarum fortunae meae superfuit tuae fundere; inveniam etiamnunc per hos exhaustos iam fletibus domesticis oculos quod effluat, si modo id tibi futurum bono est. Quid cessas?

That, too, will help you not a little, if you consider that your grief will profit neither him whom you desire nor yourself; for you will not wish that which is void to be long. For if by sadness we are going to accomplish anything, I do not refuse to pour out whatever tears my fortune has had left over to pour for yours; I will even now find, through these eyes already exhausted by domestic weepings, something to flow out, if only that will be for your good. Why do you hesitate?

Conqueramur, atque adeo ipse hanc litem meam faciam: 'iniquissima omnium iudicio Fortuna, adhuc videbaris sinu eum hominem continuisse, qui munere tuo tantam venerationem receperat, ut, quod raro ulli contigit, felicitas eius effugeret invidiam: ecce eum dolorem illi, quem salvo Caesare accipere maximum poterat, impressisti, et cum bene illum undeque circuisses, intellexisti hac parte tantummodo patere ictibus tuis. Quid enim illi aliud faceres? Pecuniam eriperes?

Let us make our complaint, and indeed I myself will make this suit mine: 'Fortune, most iniquitous in the judgment of all, up to now you seemed to have held that man in your bosom, who by your munus had received such veneration that—what has rarely befallen anyone—his felicity escaped envy: behold, you have impressed upon him that grief which, with Caesar safe, he could receive as the greatest; and since you had well surrounded him on every side, you understood that only in this part he lay open to your blows. For what else would you do to him? Would you snatch away his money?

Numquam illi obnoxius fuit; nunc quoque, quantum potest, illam a se abigit et in tanta facilitate adquirendi nullum maiorem ex ea fructum quam contemptum eius petit. Eriperes illi amicos? Sciebas tam amabilem esse, ut facile in locum amissorum posset alios substituere; unum enim hunc ex eis, quos in principali domo potentes vidi, cognovisse videor, quem omnibus amicum habere cum expediat, magis tamen etiam libet.

He was never beholden to her; now also, as far as he can, he drives her away from himself, and in so great a facility of acquiring he seeks no greater fruit from her than contempt of her. Would you snatch his friends from him? You knew him to be so lovable, that he could easily substitute others in the place of those lost; for I seem to have known this one man among those whom I have seen powerful in the principal house, whom, while it is expedient for all to have as a friend, yet it is even more a pleasure.

Eriperes illi bonam opinionem? Solidior est haec apud eum, quam ut a te quoque ipsa concuti possit. Eriperes bonam valetudinem?

Would you take from him good opinion? This with him is more solid than that it could itself be shaken even by you too. Would you take away good health?

Sciebas animum eius liberalibus disciplinis, quibus non innutritus tantum sed innatus est, sic esse fundatum, ut supra omnis corporis dolores emineret. Eriperes spiritum? Quantulum nocuisses!

You knew his mind, in liberal disciplines—in which he has not only been nourished but is innate—to be so founded as to tower above all the body’s pains. Would you snatch away his breath? How little you would have harmed!

Longissimum illi ingeni aevum fama promisit; id egit ipse, ut meliore sui parte duraret et compositis eloquentiae praeclaris operibus a mortalitate se vindicaret. Quam diu fuerit ullus litteris honor, quam diu steterit aut Latinae linguae potentia aut Graecae gratia, vigebit cum maximis viris, quorum se ingeniis vel contulit vel, si hoc verecundia eius recusat, adplicuit. Hoc ergo unum excogitasti, quomodo maxime illi posses nocere; quo melior est enim quisque, hoc saepius ferre te consuevit sine ullo dilectu furentem et inter ipsa beneficia metuendam.

Fame promised to his genius a very long age; he himself brought it about that he should endure in his better part and, by the composed and illustrious works of eloquence, should vindicate himself from mortality. So long as there shall be any honor for letters, so long as either the potency of the Latin tongue or the grace of the Greek shall stand, he will flourish with the greatest men, to whose talents he either matched himself or—if his modesty refuses this—attached himself. This, then, is the one thing you devised: how you could most harm him; for the better anyone is, the more often he has been wont to bear you raging without any distinction, and to find you to be feared even amid the very benefactions.

Quantulum erat tibi immunem ab hac iniuria praestare eum hominem, in quem videbatur indulgentia tua ratione certa pervenisse et non ex tuo more temere incidisse!'

How small a thing was it for you to afford that man immunity from this injury—the man upon whom your indulgence seemed to have reached by a sure reason and not, according to your custom, to have fallen rashly!'

III.

Adiciamus, si vis, ad has querellas ipsius adulescentis interceptam inter prima incrementa indolem: dignus fuit ille te fratre. Tu certe eras dignissimus, qui ne ex indigno quidem quicquam doleres fratre: redditur illi testimonium aequale omnium hominum; desideratur in tuum honorem, laudatur in suum. Nihil in illo fuit, quod non libenter agnosceres.

Let us add, if you will, to these complaints of the adolescent himself the inborn nature intercepted amid its first increments: he was worthy of you as a brother. You surely were most worthy, such that you would not grieve at anything even from an unworthy brother: to him there is rendered a testimony equal from all men; he is missed to your honor, he is praised to his own. Nothing was in him that you would not gladly acknowledge.

Tu quidem etiam minus bono fratri fuisses bonus, sed in illo pietas tua idoneam nacta materiam multo se liberius exercuit. Nemo potentiam eius iniuria sensit, numquam ille te fratrem ulli minatus est; ad exemplum se modestiae tuae formaverat cogitabatque, quantum tu et ornamentum tuorum esses et onus: suffecit ille huic sarcinae. O dura fata et nullis aequa virtutibus!

You indeed would even have been good to a less good brother, but in him your piety, having found suitable material, exercised itself much more freely. No one felt an injury from his power, never did he threaten anyone with you as brother; he had fashioned himself on the example of your modesty and considered how much you were both an ornament of yours and a burden: he sufficed for this load. O hard fates, and equitable to no virtues!

Antequam felicitatem suam nosset frater tuus, exemptus est. Parum autem me indignari scio; nihil est enim difficilius quam magno dolori paria verba reperire. Etiamnunc tamen, si quid proficere possumus, conqueramur: 'quid tibi voluisti, tam iniusta et tam violenta Fortuna?

Before your brother knew his felicity, he was taken away. Yet I know I am insufficiently indignant; for nothing is more difficult than to find words equal to great grief. Even now, however, if we can make any progress, let us complain: 'what did you will for yourself, so unjust and so violent Fortune?

Tam cito te indulgentiae tuae paenituit? Quae ista crudelitas est in medios fratres impetum facere et tam cruenta rapina concordissimam turbam imminuere, tam bene stipatum optimorum adulescentium domum, in nullo fratre degenerantem, turbare et sine ulla causa delibare [voluisti]! Nihil ergo prodest innocentia ad omnem legem exacta, nihil antiqua frugalitas, nihil felicitatis summae potentia summa conservata abstinentia, nihil sincerus et tutus litterarum amor, nihil ab omni labe mens vacans? Luget Polybius, et in uno fratre quid de reliquis possit metuere admonitus etiam de ipsis doloris sui solaciis timet.

So quickly did you repent of your indulgence? What cruelty is this, to make an assault upon brothers in their midst and by such bloody rapine to diminish a most concordant company, to trouble a house so well packed with the best adolescents, degenerating in no brother, and without any cause to nibble away at it [you wished]! Does innocence, exact to every law, then profit nothing; nothing ancient frugality; nothing the potency of highest felicity preserved by the highest abstinence; nothing the sincere and secure love of letters; nothing a mind free from every stain? Polybius mourns, and, admonished in the case of one brother what he may fear concerning the rest, he even fears for the very consolations of his grief.

Facinus indignum! Luget Polybius et aliquid propitio dolet Caesare! Hoc sine dubio, impotens fortuna, captasti, ut ostenderes neminem contra te ne a Caesare quidem posse defendi.'

A shameful deed! Polybius laments, and, with Caesar propitious, still suffers some pain! This, without doubt, unbridled Fortune, you contrived, to show that no one can be defended against you, not even by Caesar.'

IV.

Diutius accusare fata possumus, mutare non possumus: stant dura et inexorabilia; nemo illa convicio, nemo fletu, nemo causa movet; nihil umquam ulli parcunt nec remittunt. Proinde parcamus lacrimis nihil proficientibus; facilius enim nos inferis dolor iste adiciet quam illos nobis reducet: qui si nos torquet, non adiuvat, primo quoque tempore deponendus est et ab inanibus solaciis atque amara quadam libidine dolendi animus recipiendus est. Nam lacrimis nostris nisi ratio finem fecerit, fortuna non faciet.

We can accuse the fates for longer; we cannot change them: they stand harsh and inexorable; no one moves them by reviling, no one by weeping, no one by pleading; they never spare anyone nor remit anything. Accordingly, let us spare tears that avail nothing; for that grief will more easily add us to those below than bring them back to us: since, if it torments us, it does not aid, it must be laid aside at the earliest possible time, and the spirit must be recovered from empty consolations and from a certain bitter libido of grieving. For unless reason sets an end to our tears, Fortune will not do so.

Omnis agedum mortalis circumspice, larga ubique flendi et adsidua materia est: alium ad cotidianum opus laboriosa egestas vocat, alium ambitio numquam quieta sollicitat, alius divitias, quas optaverat, metuit et voto laborat suo, alium solitudo [alium labor] torquet, alium semper vestibulum obsidens turba; hic habere se dolet liberos, hic perdidisse: lacrimae nobis deerunt ante quam causae dolendi. Non vides, qualem nobis vitam rerum natura promiserit, quae primum nascentium hominum fletum esse voluit? Hoc principio edimur, huic omnis sequentium annorum ordo consentit.

Come then, look around at every mortal; abundant
everywhere is the material of weeping and its assiduous supply: one a toilsome indigence calls to daily work, another
restless ambition never quiet solicits, another fears the riches he had wished for and labors under his own vow,
another solitude [another labor] torments, another the crowd always besieging the vestibule; this man grieves to have
children, that one to have lost them: tears will fail us before causes for grieving. Do you not see
what sort of life the nature of things has promised us, she who willed that the first thing of newborn humans should be a weeping?
With this beginning we are brought forth; to this the whole order of the following years consents.

Sic vitam agimus, ideoque moderate id fieri debet a nobis, quod saepe faciendum est, et respicientes, quantum a tergo rerum tristium immineat, si non finire lacrimas, at certe reservare debemus. Nulli parcendum est rei magis quam huic, cuius tam frequens usus est.

Thus we live life, and therefore that which must often be done ought to be done by us moderately; and, looking back at how much of sad things is imminent from behind, if we cannot finish our tears, we ought at least to reserve them. We should be sparing of nothing more than this, whose use is so frequent.

Illud quoque te non minimum adiuverit, si cogitaveris nulli minus gratum esse dolorem tuum quam ei, cui praestari videtur: torqueri ille te aut non vult aut non intellegit. Nulla itaque eius officii ratio est, quod ei, cui praestatur, si nihil sentit, supervacuum est, si sentit, ingratum est. Neminem esse toto orbe terrarum, qui delectetur lacrimis tuis, audacter dixerim.

That too will help you very much, if you consider that your grief is least pleasing to the very person to whom it seems to be rendered: he either does not wish you to be tormented or does not understand. Therefore there is no rationale of that duty, since to him for whom it is performed, if he perceives nothing, it is superfluous; if he does perceive, it is ungrateful. I would boldly say that there is no one in the whole world who is delighted by your tears.

Quid ergo? Quem nemo adversus te animum gerit, eum esse tu credis fratris tui, ut cruciatu tui noceat tibi, ut te velit abducere ab occupationibus tuis, id est a studio et a Caesare? Non est hoc simile veri.

What then? Do you believe that the disposition which no one bears adverse to you is your brother’s—so that by your torment he may harm you, so that he would wish to draw you away from your occupations, that is, from study and from Caesar? This is not akin to the truth.

Ille enim indulgentiam tibi tamquam fratri praestitit, venerationem tamquam parenti, cultum tamquam superiori; ille desiderio tibi esse vult, tormento esse non vult. Quid itaque iuvat dolori intabescere, quem, si quis defunctis sensus est, finiri frater tuus cupit? De alio fratre, cuius incerta posset voluntas videri, omnia haec in dubio ponerem et dicerem: 'sive te torqueri lacrimis numquam desinentibus frater tuus cupit, indignus hoc affectu tuo est; sive non vult, utrique vestrum inhaerentem dolorem dimitte; nec impius frater sic desiderari debet nec pius sic velit.' In hoc vero, cuius tam explorata pietas est, pro certo habendum est nihil esse illi posse acerbius, quam si tibi hic casus eius acerbus est, si te ullo modo torquet, si oculos tuos, indignissimos hoc malo, sine ullo flendi fine et conturbat idem et exhaurit.

For he showed you indulgence as to a brother, veneration as to a parent, deference as to a superior; he wants to be for you an object of longing, he does not want to be a torment. Why then is it of use to waste away in grief, which, if the defunct have any sensation, your brother wishes to be ended? About another brother, whose will might seem uncertain, I would set all these things in doubt and would say: 'if your brother wishes you to be tortured by tears never ceasing, he is unworthy of this affection of yours; if he does not wish it, dismiss the clinging grief for the sake of you both; neither ought an impious brother to be longed for thus, nor would a pious one wish it thus.' But in this case, whose piety is so well-ascertained, it must be held for certain that nothing could be more bitter to him than if this event of his is bitter to you, if it torments you in any way, if it both confounds and exhausts your eyes, most undeserving of this misfortune, with no end to weeping.

Pietatem tamen tuam nihil aeque a lacrimis tam inutilibus abducet, quam si cogitaveris fratribus te tuis exemplo esse debere fortiter hanc fortunae iniuriam sustinendi. Quod duces magni faciunt rebus adfectis, ut hilaritatem de industria simulent et adversas res adumbrata laetitia abscondant, ne militum animi, si fractam ducis sui mentem viderint, et ipsi conlabantur, id nunc tibi quoque faciendum est: indue dissimilem animo tuo vultum et, si potes, proice omnem ex toto dolorem, si minus, introrsus abde et contine, ne appareat, et da operam ut fratres tui te imitentur, qui honestum putabunt, quodcumque te facientem viderint, animumque ex vultu tuo sument. Et solacium debes esse illorum et consolator; non poteris autem horum maerori obstare, si tuo indulseris.

Nevertheless, nothing will draw your pietas away from such unprofitable tears so much as if you consider that you ought to be, for your brothers, an example of stoutly sustaining this injury of Fortune. What great leaders do when affairs are afflicted—namely, that they deliberately simulate cheerfulness and, with adumbrated gladness, hide adverse things, lest the spirits of the soldiers, if they see their leader’s mind broken, likewise collapse—that is what must now be done by you also: put on a countenance unlike your feeling, and, if you can, cast away all grief entirely; if not, hide it inwardly and restrain it, lest it appear, and take pains that your brothers imitate you, who will deem honorable whatever they see you doing, and will take courage from your face. And you ought to be both their solace and their consoler; but you will not be able to withstand their mourning if you have indulged your own.

VI.

Potest et illa res a luctu te prohibere nimio, si tibi ipse renuntiaveris nihil horum, quae facis, posse subduci. Magnam tibi personam hominum consensus imposuit: haec tibi tuenda est. Circumstat te omnis ista consolantium frequentia et in animum tuum inquirit ac perspicit quantum roboris ille adversus dolorem habeat et utrumne tu tantum rebus secundis uti dextere scias, an et adversas possis viriliter ferre: observantur oculi tui.

That consideration too can prohibit you from excessive mourning, if you yourself have renounced that any of these things which you do can be withdrawn. The consensus of men has imposed upon you a great persona: this must be defended by you. All that concourse of consolers stands around you and inquires into your mind and sees through how much robustness it has against grief, and whether you know only how to use prosperous things dexterously, or also can bear adverse ones manfully: your eyes are being observed.

Liberiora sunt omnia iis, quorum adfectus tegi possunt; tibi nullum secretum liberum est. In multa luce fortuna te posuit; omnes scient, quomodo te in isto tuo gesseris vulnere, utrumne statim percussus arma summiseris an in gradu steteris. Olim te in altiorem ordinem et amor Caesaris extulit et tua studia eduxerunt.

All things are freer for those whose affections can be covered; for you no privacy is free.
Fortune has placed you in much light; all will know how you have borne yourself in that wound of yours, whether, smitten, you immediately lowered your arms or stood your ground.
Once both the love of Caesar lifted you into a higher order and your pursuits led you forth.

Nihil te plebeium decet, nihil humile. Quid autem tam humile ac muliebre est quam consumendum se dolori committere? Non idem tibi in luctu pari quod tuis fratribus licet; multa tibi non permittit opinio de studiis ac moribus tuis recepta, multum a te homines exigunt, multum expectant.

Nothing plebeian befits you, nothing humble. And what is so humble and womanish as to commit oneself to grief to be consumed? The same is not permitted to you in equal mourning as to your brothers; the accepted opinion concerning your studies and morals does not allow many things to you: people exact much from you, they expect much.

Si volebas tibi omnia licere, non convertisses in te ora omnium: nunc tantum tibi praestandum est, quantum promisisti. Omnes illi, qui opera ingenii tui laudant, qui describunt, quibus, cum fortuna tua opus non sit, ingenio opus est, custodes animi tui sunt. Nihil umquam ita potes indignum facere perfecti et eruditi viri professione, ut non multos admirationis de te suae paeniteat.

If you wished everything to be permitted to you, you would not have turned the faces of all upon yourself:
now you must deliver as much as you promised. All those who praise the works of your genius,
who describe them, for whom, since there is no need of your fortune, there is need of your genius, are custodians of your spirit.
You can never do anything so unworthy of the profession of a perfect and erudite man, that it would not make many repent of their admiration of you.

Non licet tibi flere immodice, nec hoc tantummodo non licet; ne somnum quidem extendere in partem diei licet aut a tumultu rerum in otium ruris quieti confugere aut adsidua laboriosi officii statione fatigatum corpus voluptaria peregrinatione recreare aut spectaculorum varietate animum detinere aut ex tuo arbitrio diem disponere. Multa tibi non licent, quae humillimis et in angulo iacentibus licent: magna servitus est magna fortuna. Non licet tibi quicquam arbitrio tuo facere: audienda sunt tot hominum milia, tot disponendi libelli; tantus rerum ex orbe toto coeuntium congestus, ut possit per ordinem suum principis maximi animo subici, exigendus est.

It is not permitted to you to weep immoderately, nor is this alone not permitted; not even is it permitted to extend sleep into a part of the day, or to take refuge from the tumult of affairs into the quiet leisure of the countryside, or to refresh a body wearied by the assiduous station of a laborious office with pleasure-travel, or to detain the mind by the variety of spectacles, or to dispose the day at your own discretion. Many things are not permitted to you which are permitted to the very lowly and to those lying in a corner: great fortune is great servitude. It is not permitted to you to do anything by your own discretion: so many thousands of men must be heard, so many dockets to be disposed; so great a congestion of matters converging from the whole orb is to be exacted, that it may be able to be set before, according to its order, the mind of the greatest prince.

Non licet tibi, inquam, flere: ut multos flentes audire possis, ut periclitantium et ad misericordiam mitissimi Caesaris pervenire cupientium [lacrimas siccare], lacrimae tibi tuae adsiccandae sunt.

It is not permitted to you, I say, to weep: so that
you may be able to hear many weeping, so that of those in peril and of those wishing to reach the mercy of the most gentle Caesar
[to dry their tears], your own tears are to be dried.

VII.

Haec tamen etiamnunc levioribus te remediis adiuvabunt; cum voles omnium rerum oblivisci, Caesarem cogita. Vide, quantam huius in te indulgentiae fidem, quantam industriam debeas: intelleges non magis tibi incurvari licere quam illi, si quis modo est fabulis traditus, cuius umeris mundus innititur. Caesari quoque ipsi, cui omnia licent, propter hoc ipsum multa non licent: omnium somnos illius vigilia defendit, omnium otium illius labor, omnium delicias illius industria, omnium vacationem illius occupatio.

These things, nevertheless, will even now assist you with lighter remedies; when you wish to forget all things, think on Caesar. See what confidence in this man’s indulgence toward you, what industry you owe: you will understand that it is no more permitted for you to bend than for that one—if indeed there is any such as is handed down by the fables—on whose shoulders the world leans. To Caesar himself, to whom all things are licit, because of this very thing many things are not licit: the sleep of all is defended by his vigil, the leisure of all by his labor, the delights of all by his industry, the vacation of all by his occupation.

Ex quo se Caesar orbi terrarum dedicavit, sibi eripuit, et siderum modo, quae inrequieta semper cursus suos explicant, numquam illi licet subsistere nec quicquam suum facere. Ad quendam itaque modum tibi quoque eadem necessitas iniungitur: non licet tibi ad utilitates tuas, ad studia tua respicere. Caesare orbem terrarum possidente impertire te nec voluptati nec dolori nec ulli alii rei potes: totum te Caesari debes.

Since Caesar dedicated himself to the orb of the earth, he tore himself away from himself; and, in the manner of the stars, which, ever unresting, unfold their courses, it is never permitted to him to halt nor to make anything his own. Therefore, in a certain measure, the same necessity is enjoined upon you also: it is not permitted you to look back to your utilities, to your studies. With Caesar possessing the orb of the earth, you can impart yourself neither to pleasure nor to dolor nor to any other thing: you owe yourself wholly to Caesar.

Adice nunc quod, cum semper praedices cariorem tibi spiritu tuo Caesarem esse, fas tibi non est salvo Caesare de fortuna queri: hoc incolumi salvi tibi sunt tui, nihil perdidisti, non tantum siccos oculos tuos esse sed etiam laetos oportet; in hoc tibi omnia sunt, hic pro omnibus est. Quod longe a sensibus tuis pudentissimis piissimisque abest, adversus felicitatem tuam parum gratus es, si tibi quicquam hoc salvo flere permittis.

Add now this, that, since you always predicate Caesar to be dearer to you than your own spirit, it is not right for you, with Caesar safe, to complain about fortune: with him unharmed, your own are safe for you; you have lost nothing; not only ought your eyes to be dry but even joyful; in him you have all things, he is in place of all. Though this is far from your most modest and most pious sensibilities, you are too little grateful toward your felicity, if you permit yourself to weep for anything with this man safe.

VIII.

Monstrabo etiamnunc non quidem firmius remedium sed familiarius. Si quando te domum receperis, tunc erit tibi metuenda tristitia: nam quam diu numen tuum intueberis, nullum illa ad te inveniet accessum, omnia in te Caesar tenebit; cum ab illo discesseris, tunc velut occasione data insidiabitur solitudini tuae dolor et requiescenti animo tuo paulatim inrepet. Itaque non est quod ullum tempus vacare patiaris a studiis: tunc tibi litterae tuae tam diu ac tam fideliter amatae gratiam referrant, tunc te illae antistitem et cultorem suum vindicent, tunc Homerus et Vergilius tam bene de humano genere meriti, quam tu et de illis et de omnibus meruisti, quos pluribus notos esse voluisti quam scripserant, multum tecum morentur: tutum id erit omne tempus, quod illis tuendum commiseris; tunc Caesaris tui opera, ut per omnia saecula domestico narrentur praeconio, quantum potes, compone: nam ipse tibi optime formandi condendique res gestas et materiam dabit et exemplum.

I will show even now, not indeed a firmer remedy but a more familiar one. If ever you withdraw yourself home, then sadness will be to be feared for you: for as long as you gaze upon your divinity, she will find no access to you; Caesar will hold everything in you; when you depart from him, then, as if an opportunity had been given, grief will lie in wait for your solitude and will creep back little by little into your mind at rest. Therefore there is no reason that you should allow any time to be vacant from studies: then let your letters, so long and so faithfully loved, render you gratitude, then let them claim you as their pontiff and worshiper, then let Homer and Vergil, who have deserved so well of the human race, as you have deserved of both them and of all those whom you wished to be known to more people than they had written for, spend much time with you: all that time will be safe which you shall have entrusted to them for guarding; then compose, as much as you can, the works of your Caesar, so that through all ages they may be narrated by a domestic heralding: for he himself will give to you both the material and the example for shaping and recording deeds done.

Non audeo te eo usque producere, ut fabellas quoque et Aesopeos logos, intemptatum Romanis ingeniis opus, solita tibi venustate connectas. Difficile est quidem, ut ad haec hilariora studia tam vehementer perculsus animus tam cito possit accedere: hoc tamen argumentum habeto iam conroborati eius et redditi sibi, si poterit a severioribus scriptis ad haec solutiora procedere. In illis enim quamvis aegrum eum adhuc et secum reluctantem avocabit ipsa rerum, quas tractabit, austeritas; haec, quae remissa fronte commentanda sunt, non feret, nisi cum iam sibi ab omni parte constiterit.

I do not dare to lead you so far as to have you, with your wonted grace, also knit together little tales and Aesopic logoi, a work unattempted by Roman talents. Difficult it is
indeed, that a mind so violently smitten can so quickly approach these more cheerful studies:
yet have this as a proof of its being now corroborated and restored to itself, if it can proceed from more severe writings to these more unbound ones. For in those, even though it be still sick and struggling with itself,
the very austerity of the matters which it will handle will call it away; these, which are to be commented upon with a relaxed brow,
it will not endure, unless it has now taken its stand for itself on every side.

Itaque debebis eum severiore materia primum exercere, deinde hilariore temperare.

Therefore you ought to exercise him first with severer material, then temper him with a more cheerful one.

IX.

Illud quoque magno tibi erit levamento, si saepe te sic interrogaveris: 'utrumne meo nomine doleo an eius qui decessit? Si meo, perit indulgentiae iactatio et incipit dolor hoc uno excusatus, quod honestus est, cum ad utilitatem respicit, a pietate desciscere; nihil autem minus bono viro convenit quam in fratris luctu calculos ponere. Si illius nomine doleo, necesse est alterutrum ex his duobus esse iudicem: nam si nullus defunctis sensus superest, evasit omnia frater meus vitae incommoda et in eum restitutus est locum, in quo fuerat antequam nasceretur, et expers omnis mali nihil timet, nihil cupit, nihil patitur: quis iste furor est pro eo me numquam dolere desinere, qui numquam doliturus est?

That, too, will be a great alleviation to you, if you often ask yourself thus: 'Am I grieving in my own name or in his who has departed? If in my own, the ostentation of indulgence perishes, and grief begins, excused in this one point, that it is “honorable,” when it looks to utility, to defect from piety; but nothing less befits a good man than to set calculations in a brother’s mourning. If I grieve in his name, it is necessary that one or the other of these two be the judge: for if no sense remains to the deceased, my brother has escaped all the incommodities of life and has been restored to that place in which he was before he was born, and, devoid of every evil, he fears nothing, desires nothing, suffers nothing: what madness is this—that I should never cease to grieve for him who will never grieve?

Si est aliquis defunctis sensus, nunc animus fratris mei velut ex diutino carcere emissus, tandem sui iuris et arbitrii, gestit et rerum naturae spectaculo fruitur et humana omnia ex loco superiore despicit, divina vero, quorum rationem tam diu frustra quaesierat, proprius intuetur. Quid itaque eius desiderio maceror, qui aut beatus aut nullus est? Beatum deflere invidia est, nullum dementia.' An hoc te movet, quod videtur ingentibus et cum maxime circumfusis bonis caruisse?

If there is any sense for the deceased, now the spirit of my brother, as if released from a long prison, at last sui juris and of his own arbitration, exults and enjoys the spectacle of the nature of things, and from a higher place looks down on all human things; but the divine things, the reason of which he had so long sought in vain, he beholds more closely. Why, therefore, do I waste away with longing for him who is either blessed or nothing? To bewail the blessed is envy; to bewail one who is nothing is madness. Or does this move you, that he seems to have lacked great goods, and most of all those that were then most abundantly surrounding him?

Cum cogitaveris multa esse, quae perdidit, cogita plura esse, quae non timet: non ira eum torquebit, non morbus adfliget, non suspicio lacesset, non edax et inimica semper alienis processibus invidia consectabitur, non metus sollicitabit, non levitas Fortunae cito munera sua transferentis inquietabit. Si bene computes, plus illi remissum quam ereptum est. Non opibus fruetur, non tua simul ac sua gratia; non accipiet beneficia, non dabit: miserum putas, quod ista amisit, an beatum, quod non desiderat?

When you have considered that there are many things,
which he has lost, consider that there are more which he does not fear: wrath will not torment him, disease will not afflict,
suspicion will not provoke him, Envy—edacious and ever hostile to others’ progress—will not pursue him,
fear will not trouble him, nor will the levity of Fortune, quickly transferring her gifts, disquiet him. If well
you compute, more has been remitted to him than snatched away. He will not enjoy wealth, nor your favor together with his own
favor; he will not receive benefits, he will not give: do you think him wretched because he has lost these things, or blessed because he does not
desire them?

Mihi crede, is beatior est, cui fortuna supervacua est, quam is, cui parata est. Omnia ista bona, quae nos speciosa sed fallaci voluptate delectant, pecunia, dignitas, potentia aliaque complura, ad quae generis humani caeca cupiditas obstupescit, cum labore possidentur, cum invidia conspiciuntur, eos denique ipsos, quos exornant, et premunt; plus minantur quam prosunt; lubrica et incerta sunt, numquam bene tenentur; nam ut nihil de tempore futuro timeatur, ipsa tamen magnae felicitatis tutela sollicita est. Si velis credere altius veritatem intuentibus, omnis vita supplicium est: in hoc profundum inquietumque proiecti mare, alternis aestibus reciprocum et modo allevans nos subitis incrementis, modo maioribus damnis deferens adsidueque iactans, numquam stabili consistimus loco, pendemus et fluctuamur et alter in alterum illidimur et aliquando naufragium facimus, semper timemus; in hoc tam procelloso et ad omnes tempestates exposito mari navigantibus nullus portus nisi mortis est.

Believe me, he is happier for whom fortune is superfluous than he for whom it is prepared. All those goods which delight us with a specious but fallacious pleasure—money, dignity, power
and many other things, at which the blind cupidity of the human race stands amazed—are possessed with labor,
are beheld with envy, and, finally, those very people whom they adorn they also press down; they threaten more than
they benefit; they are slippery and uncertain, never well held; for even if nothing about future time
is to be feared, yet the guardianship itself of great felicity is anxious. If you are willing to believe those who look more deeply upon the truth,
all life is a punishment: cast into this deep and restless sea, reciprocal with alternating tides,
now lifting us with sudden increases, now carrying us down to greater losses
and constantly tossing us, we never take our stand in a stable place; we hang and fluctuate, and one
is dashed against another, and sometimes we suffer shipwreck, we always fear; on this sea so tempestuous and
exposed to all storms, for those who sail there is no harbor except that of death.

Ne itaque invideris fratri tuo: quiescit. Tandem liber, tandem tutus, tandem aeternus est. Superstitem Caesarem omnemque eius prolem, superstitem te cum communibus habet fratribus.

Do not, therefore, envy your brother: he is at rest. At last free, at last safe, at last eternal. He has left Caesar and all his progeny as survivors; he has left you, along with your common brothers, as survivors.

Antequam quicquam ex suo favore Fortuna mutaret, stantem adhuc illam et munera plena manu congerentem reliquit. Fruitur nunc aperto et libero caelo, ex humili atque depresso in eum emicuit locum, quisquis ille est, qui solutas vinculis animas beato recipit sinu, et nunc libere illic vagatur omniaque rerum naturae bona cum summa voluptate perspicit. Erras: non perdidit lucem frater tuus, sed sinceriorem sortitus est.

Before Fortune changed anything of her favor, he left her still standing and heaping up gifts with a full hand. He now enjoys an open and free sky; from a low and depressed place he flashed forth into that place—whatever it is—which receives in a blessed bosom souls loosed from their chains; and now he wanders there freely and with the highest delight surveys all the goods of the nature of things. You are mistaken: your brother has not lost the light, but has obtained a more sincere one.

Omnibus illo nobis commune est iter: quid fata deflemus? Non reliquit ille nos sed antecessit. Est, mihi crede, magna felicitas in ipsa necessitate moriendi.

That journey is common to us all: why do we bewail the Fates?
He has not left us but has gone before. There is, believe me, great felicity in the very
necessity of dying.

Nihil ne in totum quidem diem certi est: quis in tam obscura et involuta veritate divinat, utrumne fratri tuo mors inviderit an consuluerit?

Nothing is certain even for the whole day: who, in a verity so obscure and involved, divines whether death begrudged your brother or took thought for him?

10.

Illud quoque, qua iustitia in omnibus rebus es, necesse est te adiuvet cogitantem non iniuriam tibi factam, quod talem fratrem amisisti, sed beneficium datum, quod tam diu tibi pietate eius uti fruique licuit. Iniquus est, qui muneris sui arbitrium danti non relinquit, avidus, qui non lucri loco habet, quod accepit, sed damni, quod reddidit. Ingratus est, qui iniuriam vocat finem voluptatis, stultus, qui nullum fructum esse putat bonorum nisi praesentium, qui non et in praeteritis adquiescit et ea iudicat certiora, quae abierunt, quia de illis ne desinant non est timendum.

That too, inasmuch as you are justice itself in all things, must help you, when reflecting, to think not that an injury was done to you because you lost such a brother, but that a benefaction was given, because for so long it was permitted you to use and to enjoy his pietas. He is iniquitous who does not leave to the giver the arbitrament of his own gift, and avid who holds not as lucre what he received, but as loss what he returned. He is ungrateful who calls the end of pleasure an injury, foolish who thinks there is no fruit of goods save those present, who does not also acquiesce in things past and judges those things more certain which have gone away, because concerning them there is no fearing lest they cease.

Nimis angustat gaudia sua, qui eis tantummodo, quae habet ac videt, frui se putat et habuisse eadem pro nihilo ducit; cito enim nos omnis voluptas relinquit, quae fluit et transit et paene ante quam veniat aufertur. Itaque in praeteritum tempus animus mittendus est et quicquid nos umquam delectavit reducendum ac frequenti cogitatione pertractandum est: longior fideliorque est memoria voluptatum quam praesentia. Quod habuisti ergo optimum fratrem, in summis bonis pone!

He narrows his joys too much who thinks he enjoys only those things which he has and sees, and counts it as nothing to have had the same; for every pleasure quickly leaves us, which flows and passes and is carried off almost before it comes. Therefore the mind must be sent into past time, and whatever has ever delighted us must be brought back and thoroughly handled in frequent cogitation: the memory of pleasures is longer and more faithful than the present. Therefore, that you had an excellent brother—place it among your highest goods!

Non est quod cogites, quanto diutius habere potueris, sed quam diu habueris. Rerum natura illum tibi sicut ceteris fratres suos non mancipio dedit, sed commodavit; cum visum est deinde, repetit nec tuam in eo satietatem secuta est sed suam legem. Si quis pecuniam creditam solvisse se moleste ferat, eam praesertim, cuius usum gratuitum acceperit, nonne iniustus vir habeatur?

There is no cause for you to think how much longer you could have had him, but how long you did have him.
Nature gave him to you, as to others their brothers, not in ownership, but on loan; and when it so seemed, it reclaimed him, following not your satisfaction in the matter but its own law.
If someone takes it ill that he has repaid money lent—especially one whose use he received gratis—would he not be held an unjust man?

Dedit natura fratri tuo vitam, dedit et tibi: quae suo iure usa si a quo voluit debitum suum citius exegit, non illa in culpa est, cuius nota erat condicio, sed mortalis animi spes avida, quae subinde, quid rerum natura sit, obliviscitur nec umquam sortis suae meminit, nisi cum admonetur. Gaude itaque habuisse te tam bonum fratrem et usum fructumque eius, quamvis brevior voto tuo fuerit, boni consule. Cogita iucundissimum esse, quod habuisti, humanum, quod perdidisti: nec enim quicquam minus inter se consentaneum est quam aliquem moveri, quod sibi talis frater parum diu contigerit, non gaudere, quod tamen contigerit.

Nature gave your brother life, and gave it to you as well: which, using its own right,
if it exacted its debt sooner from whom it wished, it is not in the wrong—its condition was known—
but the greedy hope of the mortal mind, which again and again forgets what the nature of things is, and
never remembers its lot, unless when it is admonished. Rejoice, therefore, that you have had so good a brother
and the use and usufruct of him; although it was shorter than your wish, take it in good part. Think it most pleasant
what you have had, human what you have lost; for nothing is less consistent with itself
than that someone be moved because such a brother befell him for too little a time, and not to rejoice that he nevertheless
befell.

XI.

11.

'At inopinanti ereptus est.' Sua quemque credulitas decipit et in eis, quae diligit, voluntaria mortalitatis oblivio: natura nulli se necessitatis suae gratiam facturam esse testata est. Cotidie praeter oculos nostros transeunt notorum ignotorumque funera, nos tamen aliud agimus et subitum id putamus esse, quod nobis tota vita denuntiatur futurum. Non est itaque ista fatorum iniquitas, sed mentis humanae pravitas insatiabilis rerum omnium, quae indignatur inde excidere, quo admissa est precario.

'But he was snatched away from one who did not expect it.' One’s own credulity deceives each person, and, in the things which he loves, a voluntary oblivion of mortality: nature has testified that she will grant favor to no one in regard to her necessity. Every day the funerals of those known and unknown pass before our eyes, yet we busy ourselves with other things and think sudden that which our whole life announces will come to pass. It is not, therefore, an inequity of the fates, but the depravity of the human mind, insatiable of all things, which grows indignant to fall out from that place into which it was admitted on a precarious grant.

Quanto ille iustior, qui nuntiata filii morte dignam magno viro vocem emisit: 'Ego cum genui, tum moriturum scivi.' Prorsus non mireris ex hoc natum esse, qui fortiter mori posset. Non accepit tamquam novum nuntium filii mortem; quid enim est novi hominem mori, cuius tota vita nihil aliud quam ad mortem iter est? 'Ego cum genui, tum moriturum scivi.' Deinde adiecit rem maioris et prudentiae et animi: 'et huic rei sustuli.' Omnes huic rei tollimur; quisquis ad vitam editur, ad mortem destinatur.

How much more just was he, who, when the death of his son was announced, uttered a voice worthy of a great man: 'I, when I begot him, then knew that he would die.' By no means marvel that from such a one there was born someone who could die bravely. He did not receive the death of his son as a new announcement; for what is new about a man’s dying, whose whole life is nothing other than a journey toward death? 'I, when I begot him, then knew that he would die.' Then he added a thing of greater prudence and spirit: 'and for this very thing I reared him.' We are all reared for this thing; whoever is brought forth to life is destined for death.

Gaudeamus [ergo] eo, quod dabitur, reddamusque id, cum reposcemur: alium alio tempore fata comprehendent, neminem praeteribunt. In procinctu stet animus et id quod necesse est numquam timeat, quod incertum est semper expectet. Quid dicam duces ducumque progeniem et multis aut consulatibus conspicuos aut triumphis sorte defunctos inexorabili?

Let us rejoice [therefore] at that which will be given,
and let us render it back when we are called to account: the Fates will seize one person at one time, another at another;
they will pass by no one. Let the mind stand in battle array and never fear that which is necessary; let it
always expect that which is uncertain. What shall I say of leaders and the progeny of leaders, conspicuous for many consulships
or triumphs, cut off by an inexorable lot?

Tota cum regibus regna populique cum [re]gentibus tulere fatum suum: omnes, immo omnia in ultimum diem spectant. Non idem universis finis est: alium in medio cursu vita deserit, alium in ipso aditu relinquit, alium in extrema senectute fatigatum iam et exire cupientem vix emittit; alio quidem atque alio tempore, omnes tamen in eundem locum tendimus; utrumne stultius sit nescio mortalitatis legem ignorare, an impudentius recusare. Agedum illa, quae multo ingenii tui labore celebrata sunt, in manus sume utriuslibet auctoris carmina, quae tu ita resolvisti, ut quamvis structura illorum recesserit, permaneat tamen gratia — sic enim illa ex alia lingua in aliam transtulisti, ut, quod difficillimum erat, omnes virtutes in alienam te orationem secutae sint -: nullus erit in illis scriptis liber, qui non plurima varietatis humanae incertorumque casuum et lacrimarum ex alia atque alia causa fluentium exempla tibi suggerat.

Entire realms with their kings and peoples with their [re]gents have borne their own fate: all, nay, all things look toward the ultimate day. Not the same end is for all: one life deserts in mid-course, another it leaves at the very threshold, another in extreme old age, already wearied and wishing to go out, it scarcely lets depart; at one time indeed and at another, yet we all tend to the same place; whether it is more foolish, I do not know, to ignore the law of mortality, or more impudent to refuse it. Come then, take into your hands those poems of whichever author which by much labor of your genius have been celebrated, which you have so resolved that, although their structure has receded, their grace nevertheless remains — for thus you have translated them from one tongue into another, so that, which was most difficult, all the virtues have followed you into a foreign discourse -: there will be no book among those writings which will not suggest to you very many examples of human variety and of uncertain chances and of tears flowing from one cause and another.

Lege, quanto spiritu ingentibus intonueris verbis: pudebit te subito deficere et ex tanta orationis magnitudine desciscere. Ne commiseris, ut quisquis exemplaris modo scripta tua mirabatur quaerat quomodo tam grandia tamque solida tam fragilis animus conceperit.

Read, with what spirit you have thundered with huge words: it will shame you to fail suddenly and, from so great a magnitude of oration, to secede. Do not bring it to pass, that whoever only just now admired your writings as exemplary should ask how so grand and so solid things a spirit so fragile conceived.

XII.

12.

Potius ab istis te, quae torquent, ad haec tot et tanta, quae consolantur, converte ac respice optimos fratres, respice uxorem, filium respice: pro omnium horum salute hac tecum portione Fortuna decidit. Multos habes, in quibus adquiescas. Ab hac te infamia vindica, ne videatur omnibus plus apud te valere unus dolor quam haec tam multa solacia.

Rather, from those things which torment, turn yourself to these so many and so great things which console, and look back upon your excellent brothers, look upon your wife, look upon your son: for the welfare of all these Fortune has decided upon this portion with you. You have many, in whom you may acquiesce. Vindicate yourself from this infamy, lest it seem to all that a single grief has more weight with you than these so many consolations.

Omnis istos una tecum perculsos vides nec posse tibi subvenire, immo etiam ultro expectare, ut a te subleventur, intellegis; et ideo quanto minus in illis doctrinae minusque ingenii est, tanto magis obsistere te necesse est communi malo. Est autem hoc ipsum solacii loco, inter multos dolorem suum dividere; qui quia dispensatur inter plures, exigua debet apud te parte subsidere. Non desinam totiens tibi offerre Caesarem: illo moderante terras et ostendente quanto melius beneficiis imperium custodiatur quam armis, illo rebus humanis praeside[nte] non est periculum, ne quid perdidisse te sentias; in hoc uno tibi satis praesidi, solaci est.

You see that all those men have been struck down together with you and understand that they cannot come to your aid—indeed, that they even, unbidden, look to be upheld by you; and therefore, the less doctrine and the less ingenuity there is in them, by so much the more it is necessary that you resist the common ill. Moreover, this very thing serves in the place of solace: to divide one’s grief among many; which, because it is dispensed among a greater number, ought to settle within you in only a small portion. I will not cease to set Caesar before you again and again: with him moderating the lands and showing how much better dominion is guarded by benefactions than by arms, with him presiding over human affairs, there is no peril lest you should feel that you have lost anything; in this one man you have enough protection and solace.

Attolle te et, quotiens lacrimae suboriuntur oculis tuis, totiens illos in Caesarem derige: siccabuntur maximi et clarissimi conspectu numinis; fulgor eius illos, ut nihil aliud possint aspicere, praestringet et in se haerentes detinebit. Hic tibi, quem tu diebus intueris ac noctibus, a quo numquam deicis animum, cogitandus est, hic contra fortunam advocandus. Nec dubito, cum tanta illi adversus omnes suos sit mansuetudo tantaque indulgentia, quin iam multis solaciis tuum istud vulnus obduxerit, iam multa, quae dolori obstarent tuo, congesserit.

Lift yourself up, and as often as tears
arise in your eyes, so often direct them to Caesar: they will be dried by the most great and most illustrious
sight of the divinity; his radiance will dazzle them, so that they can gaze on nothing else, and, clinging to him,
will hold them fast. This one, whom you behold by day and by night, from whom you never cast down
your mind, must be thought upon—this one must be called in as advocate against Fortune. Nor do I doubt that, since he has such gentleness
and such indulgence toward all his own, he has already with many consolations drawn a covering over that wound of yours,
and has already heaped up many things to stand in the way of your grief.

Quid porro? Ut nihil horum fecerit, nonne protinus ipse conspectus per se tantummodo cogitatusque Caesar maximo solacio tibi est? Dii illum deaeque terris diu commodent!

What then? Granted that he has done none of these,
is not at once the very sight, in and of itself, and even Caesar when merely thought of, the greatest solace to you?
May the gods and goddesses long lend him to the lands!

Acta hic divi Augusti aequet, annos vincat! Quam diu inter mortales erit, nihil ex domo sua mortale esse sentiat! Rectorem Romano imperio filium longa fide adprobet et ante illud consortem patris quam successorem aspiciat!

May he here equal the deeds of the deified Augustus, may he outstrip him in years! As long as he is among mortals, may he perceive nothing mortal from his house! Let him, by long-standing fidelity, approve his son as rector for the Roman imperium, and may he behold him as a consort of his father rather than as a successor before that!

Sera et nepotibus demum nostris dies nota sit, qua illum gens sua caelo adserat!

Let the day be late, and only at last known to our grandchildren, on which his own nation shall assert him to heaven!

XIII.

13.

Abstine ab hoc manus tuas, Fortuna, nec in isto potentiam tuam nisi ea parte, qua prodes, ostenderis! Patere illum generi humano iam diu aegro et adfecto mederi, patere quicquid prioris principis furor concussit in suum locum restituere ac reponere! Sidus hoc, quod praecipitato in profundum et demerso in tenebras orbi refulsit, semper luceat!

Keep your hands off this man, Fortune, and your power over him, except in that part wherein you benefit, do not display! Allow him to heal the human race, long since sick and afflicted; allow whatever the fury of the prior prince has shaken to be restored to its own place and put back! This star, which has shone back upon a world hurled headlong into the deep and plunged into darkness, may it always shine!

Hic Germaniam pacet, Britanniam aperiat, et patrios triumphos ducat et novos: quorum me quoque spectatorem futurum, quae ex virtutibus eius primum optinet locum, promittit clementia. Nec enim sic me deiecit, ut nollet erigere, immo ne deiecit quidem, sed impulsum a fortuna et cadentem sustinuit et in praeceps euntem leniter divinae manus usus moderatione deposuit: deprecatus est pro me senatum et vitam mihi non tantum dedit sed etiam petit. Viderit: qualem volet esse, existimet causam meam; vel iustitia eius bonam perspiciat vel clementia faciat bonam: utrumque in aequo mihi eius beneficium erit, sive innocentem me scierit esse, sive voluerit.

Here let him pacify Germany, open up Britain, and lead triumphs both ancestral and new: clemency—which, among his virtues, holds the first place—promises that I too shall be a spectator of these. For he did not cast me down in such a way that he was unwilling to raise me up—nay, he did not even cast me down at all—but, when I was driven by Fortune and was falling, he supported me, and as I was going headlong, by the moderation of the exercise of his divine hand he gently set me down: he interceded with the Senate on my behalf and not only gave me life but even sought it for me. Let him see to it: let him estimate my case as he will have it be; either let his justice perceive it to be good or let his clemency make it good: in either case his benefaction will be equal to me, whether he will have known that I am innocent, or will have willed it.

Interim magnum miseriarum mearum solacium est videre misericordiam eius totum orbem pervagantem: quae cum ex ipso angulo, in quo ego defixus sum, complures multorum iam annorum ruina obrutos effoderit et in lucem reduxerit, non vereor ne me unum transeat. Ipse autem optime novit tempus, quo cuique debeat succurrere; ego omnem operam dabo, ne pervenire ad me erubescat. O felicem clementiam tuam, Caesar, quae efficit, ut quietiorem sub te agant vitam exsules, quam nuper sub Gaio egere principes!

Meanwhile, a great solace of my miseries is to see his mercy traversing the whole orb: which, since from the very corner in which I am fixed it has dug up several overwhelmed by the ruin of many years and brought them back into the light, I do not fear that it will pass me alone by. But he himself knows best the time at which he ought to succor each; I will give every effort, lest it be ashamed to reach me. O happy your clemency, Caesar, which brings it about that exiles lead a quieter life under you than princes lately lived under Gaius!

Non trepidant nec per singulas horas gladium exspectant nec ad omnem navium conspectum pavent; per te habent ut fortunae saevientis modum ita spem quoque melioris eiusdem ac praesentis quietem. Scias licet ea demum fulmina esse iustissima, quae etiam percussi colunt.

They do not tremble nor expect the sword at every single hour nor do they quake at the sight of every ship; through you they have, just as a check upon raging Fortune, so also a hope of that same made better, and a present quiet. You may know that those thunderbolts are most just, which even the smitten revere.

XIV.

14.

Hic itaque princeps, qui publicum omnium hominum solacium est, aut me omnia fallunt aut iam recreavit animum tuum et tam magno vulneri maiora adhibuit remedia. Iam te omni confirmavit modo, iam omnia exempla, quibus ad animi aequitatem compellereris, tenacissima memoria rettulit, iam omnium praecepta sapientum adsueta sibi facundia explicuit. Nullus itaque melius has adloquendi partes occupaverit: aliud habebunt hoc dicente pondus verba velut ab oraculo missa; omnem vim doloris tui divina eius contundet auctoritas.

Therefore this princeps, who is the public solace of all men, either I am wholly deceived or he has already revived your spirit and has applied greater remedies to so great a wound. Already he has strengthened you in every way, already he has recalled, with most tenacious memory, all the examples by which you might be compelled to equanimity, already he has unfolded all the precepts of the wise with the eloquence accustomed to him. No one, therefore, could have taken up these parts of addressing you better: the words, when this man is speaking, will have another weight, as if sent from an oracle; his divine authority will crush all the force of your grief.

Hunc itaque tibi puta dicere: 'non te solum fortuna desumpsit sibi, quem tam gravi afficeret iniuria; nulla domus in toto orbe terrarum aut est aut fuit sine aliqua comploratione. Transibo exempla vulgaria, quae etiam si minora, tamen innumera sunt, ad fastus te et annales perducam publicos. Vides omnes has imagines, quae implevere Caesarum atrium?

Therefore suppose him to say this to you: 'Fortune has not taken you alone to herself, whom she would affect with so grave an injury; no house in the whole orb of lands either is or has been without some lamentation. I will pass by the vulgar examples, which, even if lesser, are nevertheless innumerable; I will lead you to the public Fasti and Annals. Do you see all these images that have filled the atrium of the Caesars?'

Nulla non harum aliquo suorum incommodo insignis est; nemo non ex istis in ornamentum saeculorum refulgentibus viris aut desiderio suorum tortus est aut a suis cum maximo animi cruciatu desideratus est. Quid tibi referam Scipionem Africanum, cui mors fratris in exsilio nuntiata est? Is frater, qui eripuit fratrem carceri, non potuit eripere fato; et quam impatiens iuris aequi pietas Africani fuerit, cunctis apparuit: eodem enim die Scipio Africanus, quo viatoris manibus fratrem abstulerat, tribuno quoque plebis privatus intercessit.

Not one of these is not marked by some mischance of their own; none of those men who shine forth as an ornament of the ages has failed either to be tortured by longing for his own, or to be longed-for by his own with the greatest crucifixion of soul. What shall I recount to you of Scipio Africanus, to whom the death of his brother in exile was announced? That brother, who snatched his brother from prison, could not snatch him from fate; and how impatient of equitable right Africanus’s piety was appeared to all: for on that same day Scipio Africanus, on which he had removed his brother from the hands of the viator, as a private citizen even interposed against a tribune of the plebs.

Tam magno tamen fratrem desideravit hic animo, quam defenderat. Quid referam Aemilianum Scipionem, qui uno paene eodemque tempore spectavit patris triumphum duorumque fratrum funera? Adulescentulus tamen ac propemodum puer tanto animo tulit illam familiae suae super ipsum Pauli triumphum concidentis subitam vastitatem, quanto debuit ferre vir in hoc natus, ne urbi Romanae aut Scipio deesset aut Carthago superesset.

Nevertheless he longed for his brother with as great a spirit as he had defended him.
What should I recount Scipio Aemilianus, who at almost one and the same time beheld
his father’s triumph and the funerals of his two brothers? An adolescent and almost a boy, yet
with such spirit he bore that sudden devastation of his family, collapsing upon the very triumph of Paulus himself,
as a man born for this ought to bear it, lest for the Roman city either a Scipio be lacking or Carthage
remain over.

XV.

15.

Quid referam duorum Lucullorum diremptam morte concordiam? Quid Pompeios? Quibus ne hoc quidem saeviens reliquit fortuna, ut una eademque conciderent ruina: vixit Sextus Pompeius primum sorori superstes, cuius morte optime cohaerentis Romanae pacis vincula resoluta sunt, idemque hic vixit superstes optimo fratri, quem fortuna in hoc evexerat, ne minus alte eum deiceret, quam patrem deiecerat; et post hunc tamen casum Sextus Pompeius non tantum dolori, sed etiam bello suffecit.

What shall I recount of the concord of the two Luculli torn asunder by death? What of the Pompeys? To whom raging Fortune did not even leave this, that they might fall by one and the same ruin: Sextus Pompeius lived on, surviving first his sister, at whose death the bonds of Roman peace, most well-cohering, were loosened, and this same man lived on surviving his excellent brother, whom Fortune had elevated for this very end, that she might cast him down from no less high a height than she had cast down his father; and after this fall, nevertheless, Sextus Pompeius proved sufficient not only for grief, but also for war.

Innumerabilia undique exempla separatorum morte fratrum succurrunt, immo contra vix ulla umquam horum paria conspecta sunt una senescentia; sed contentus nostrae domus exemplis ero. Nemo enim tam expers erit sensus ac sanitatis, ut Fortunam ulli queratur luctum intulisse, quam sciet etiam Caesarum lacrimas concupisse. Divus Augustus amisit Octaviam sororem carissimam et ne ei quidem rerum natura lugendi necessitatem abstulit, cui caelum destinaverat, immo vero idem omni genere orbitatis vexatus sororis filium successioni praeparatum suae perdidit; denique ne singulos eius luctus enumerem, et generos ille amisit et liberos et nepotes, ac nemo magis ex omnibus mortalibus hominem esse se, dum inter homines erat, sensit.

Innumerable on every side examples of brothers separated by death come to mind, nay rather scarcely ever have any pairs of these been seen growing old together; but I will be content with the examples of our house. For no one will be so devoid of sense and sanity as to complain that Fortune has brought grief to anyone, when he knows that she coveted even the tears of the Caesars. The deified Augustus lost his dearest sister Octavia, and not even from him did the nature of things take away the necessity of mourning, for whom it had destined heaven; nay indeed the same man, harassed by every kind of bereavement, lost his sister’s son prepared for his own succession; and finally, so that I may not enumerate his griefs singly, he lost both sons-in-law and children and grandchildren, and out of all mortals no one more than he perceived himself to be a man, while he was among men.

Tamen tot tantosque luctus cepit rerum omnium capacissimum eius pectus victorque divus Augustus non gentium tantummodo externarum, sed etiam dolorum fuit. Gaius Caesar, divi Augusti, avunculi mei magni, nepos, circa primos iuventae suae annos Lucium fratrem carissimum sibi princeps iuventutis principem eiusdem iuventutis amisit in apparatu Parthici belli et graviore multo animi volnere quam postea corporis ictus est; quod utrumque et piissime idem et fortissime tulit. [Ti.] Caesar patruus meus Drusum Germanicum patrem meum, minorem natu quam ipse erat fratrem, intima Germaniae recludentem et gentes ferocissimas Romano subicientem imperio in complexu et in osculis suis amisit: modum tamen lugendi non sibi tantum sed etiam aliis fecit ac totum exercitum non solum maestum sed etiam attonitum corpus Drusi sui sibi vindicantem ad morem Romani luctus redegit iudicavitque non militandi tantum disciplinam esse servandam sed etiam dolendi.

Nevertheless, his breast, most capacious of all things, took on so many and so great griefs, and the deified Augustus was a victor not only of nations external, but also of dolors. Gaius Caesar, grandson of the deified Augustus, my great-uncle, around the first years of his youth lost Lucius, his dearest brother, the prince of the youth, the prince of that same youth, in the preparation for the Parthic war, and he was struck by a wound of the mind much more grievous than later by a blow to the body; both of which the same man bore most piously and most bravely. [Ti.] Caesar, my paternal uncle, lost Drusus Germanicus, my father, a brother younger in birth than he himself was, who was opening up the inmost parts of Germany and subjecting the most ferocious nations to the Roman imperium, in his embrace and in his kisses: yet he set a measure for mourning not for himself only but also for others, and he brought the whole army, not only mournful but also thunderstruck, claiming the body of his Drusus for themselves, back to the custom of Roman mourning, and he judged that not only the discipline of soldiering must be observed but also that of grieving.

Non potuisset ille lacrimas alienas compescere, nisi prius pressisset suas.

He would not have been able to suppress others’ tears, unless he had first suppressed his own.

XVI.

16.

M. Antonius avus meus, nullo minor nisi eo a quo victus est, tunc cum rem publicam constitueret et triumvirali potestate praeditus nihil supra se videret, exceptis vero duobus collegis omnia infra se cerneret, fratrem interfectum audivit. Fortuna impotens, quales ex humanis malis tibi ipsa ludos facis! Eo ipso tempore, quo M. Antonius civium suorum vitae sedebat mortisque arbiter, M. Antonii frater duci iubebatur ad supplicium!

M. Antonius, my grandfather, inferior to no one except to him by whom he was conquered, then, when he was settling the commonwealth and, endowed with triumviral power, saw nothing above himself, but, with the two colleagues excepted, beheld everything beneath himself, heard that his brother had been slain. Fortune, intemperate, what games you make for yourself out of human evils! At that very time, when M. Antonius sat as arbiter of the life and death of his fellow-citizens, M. Antonius’s brother was being ordered to be led to execution!

Tulit hoc tamen tam triste vulnus eadem magnitudine animi M. Antonius, qua omnia alia adversa toleraverat, et hoc fuit eius lugere viginti legionum sanguine fratri parentare. Sed ut omnia alia exempla praeteream, ut in me quoque ipso alia taceam funera, bis me fraterno luctu aggressa fortuna est, bis intellexit laedi me posse, vinci non posse: amisi Germanicum fratrem, quem quomodo amaverim, intellegit profecto quisquis cogitat, quomodo suos fratres pii fratres ament; sic tamen affectum meum rexi, ut nec relinquerem quicquam, quod exigi deberet a bono fratre, nec facerem, quod reprehendi posset in principe.'

Nevertheless M. Antonius bore this so sad wound with the same magnitude of spirit with which he had tolerated all other adverse things, and this was his way to mourn: to parentate his brother with the blood of 20 legions. But, that I may pass over all other examples, that I may also keep silent about other funerals in my own case, twice has Fortune assailed me with fraternal grief, twice she understood that I could be injured, not conquered: I lost my brother Germanicus, and anyone surely understands how I loved him who considers how pious brothers love their own brothers; thus, nevertheless, I governed my affect, so that I neither left anything undone which ought to be exacted from a good brother, nor did what could be reprehended in a prince.'

Haec ergo puta tibi parentem publicum referre exempla, eundem ostendere, quam nihil sacrum intactumque sit Fortunae, quae ex eis penatibus ausa est funera ducere, ex quibus erat deos petitura. Nemo itaque miretur aliquid ab illa aut crudeliter fieri aut inique; potest enim haec adversus privatas domos ullam aequitatem nosse aut ullam modestiam, cuius implacabilis saevitia totiens ipsa funestavit pulvinaria? Faciamus licet illi convicium non nostro tantum ore sed etiam publico, non tamen mutabitur; adversus omnis se preces omnisque querimonias exiget.

Therefore suppose that your public parent is recounting these examples to you, and the same shows how nothing sacred and untouched there is for Fortune, who dared to lead forth funerals from those very Penates from which she was about to petition the gods. Let no one, then, wonder that anything is done by her either cruelly or unjustly; for can she know any equity or any modesty toward private houses, whose implacable savagery has so often herself made funereal the pulvinaria, the sacred couches? Let us pour out invective upon her, not with our own mouth only but with the public one as well, yet she will not be changed; she will carry herself on in defiance of all prayers and all complaints.

Hoc fuit in rebus humanis Fortuna, hoc erit: nihil inausum sibi reliquit, nihil intactum relinquet; ibit violentior per omnia, sicut solita est semper, eas quoque domos ausa iniuriae causa intrare, in quas per templa aditur, et atram laureatis foribus induet vestem. Hoc unum obtineamus ab illa votis ac precibus publicis, si nondum illi genus humanum placuit consumere, si Romanum adhuc nomen propitia respicit: hunc principem lapsis hominum rebus datum, sicut omnibus mortalibus, sibi esse sacratum velit! Discat ab illo clementiam fiatque mitissimo omnium principum mitis!

This has been Fortune in human affairs, this it will be: she has left nothing unattempted for herself, she will leave nothing untouched; she will go more violent through all things, as she has always been accustomed, daring also to enter even those houses for the sake of injury, into which access is made through temples, and she will clothe with a black garment the laurel-wreathed doors. This one thing let us obtain from her by public vows and prayers, if it has not yet pleased her to consume the human race, if she still looks with favor upon the Roman name: that she should wish this prince, given to the fallen affairs of men, to be sacred to herself, just as he is to all mortals! Let her learn clemency from him and be mild to the mildest of all princes!

XVII.

17.

Debes itaque eos intueri omnes, quos paulo ante rettuli, aut adscitos caelo aut proximos, et ferre aequo animo Fortunam ad te quoque porrigentem manus, quas ne ab eis quidem, per quos iuramus, abstinet; debes illorum imitari firmitatem in perferendis et evincendis doloribus, in quantum modo homini fas est per divina ire vestigia. Quamvis [sint] in aliis rebus dignitatum ac nobilitatum magna discrimina, virtus in medio posita est: neminem dedignatur, qui modo dignum se illa iudicat. Optime certe illos imitaberis, qui cum indignari possent non esse ipsos exsortes huius mali, tamen in hoc uno se ceteris exaequari hominibus non iniuriam sed ius mortalitatis iudicaverunt tuleruntque nec nimis acerbe et aspere, quod acciderat, nec molliter et effeminate; nam et non sentire mala sua non est hominis et non ferre non est viri.

You ought therefore to look upon all those whom I a little before recounted, either admitted to heaven or nearest to it, and to bear with an even mind Fortune too stretching out her hands toward you, which not even from those by whom we swear does she abstain; you ought to imitate their firmness in enduring and overcoming pains, in so far as it is permitted for a human to go by divine footsteps. Although [there are] in other matters great discriminations of ranks and nobilities, virtue is placed in the midst: she disdains no one who only judges himself worthy of her. Most excellently, surely, you will imitate those who, though they could be indignant that they themselves were not exempt from this evil, nevertheless judged that in this one thing they were made equal to other human beings, not an injustice but the right of mortality, and they bore what had happened neither too bitterly and harshly, nor softly and effeminately; for both not to feel one’s own ills is not human, and not to bear them is not manly.

Non possum tamen, cum omnes circumierim Caesares, quibus Fortuna fratres sororesque eripuit, hunc praeterire ex omni Caesarum numero excerpendum, quem rerum natura in exitium opprobriumque humani generis edidit, a quo imperium adustum atque eversum funditus principis mitissimi recreat clementia. C. Caesar amissa sorore Drusilla, is homo, qui non magis dolere quam gaudere principaliter posset, conspectum conversationemque civium suorum profugit, exsequiis sororis suae non interfuit, iusta sorori non praestitit, sed in Albano suo tesseris ac foro et pervolgatis huiusmodi aliis occupationibus acerbissimi funeris elevabat mala. Pro pudor imperii!

I cannot, however, when I have gone round all the Caesars from whom Fortune has snatched away brothers and sisters, pass over this one, to be singled out from the whole number of Caesars, whom the nature of things brought forth for the ruin and opprobrium of the human race, by whom the empire, scorched and utterly overthrown, the clemency of a most gentle prince restores. G. Caesar, after the loss of his sister Drusilla, that man who could no more grieve than rejoice in a princely fashion, fled the sight and conversation of his fellow citizens; he did not attend the obsequies of his sister, he did not render the lawful rites to his sister, but at his Alban place he lightened the ills of a most bitter funeral with dice and the forum and other very vulgar occupations of this sort. For shame of the empire!

Principis Romani lugentis sororem alea solacium fuit! Idem ille Gaius furiosa inconstantia modo barbam capillumque summittens tondens modo Italiae ac Siciliae oras errabundus permetiens et numquam satis certus, utrum lugeri vellet an coli sororem, eodem omni tempore, quo templa illi constituebat ac pulvinaria, eos qui parum maesti fuerant, crudelissima adficiebat animadversione; eadem enim intemperie animi adversarum rerum ictus ferebat, qua secundarum elatus eventu super humanum intumescebat modum. Procul istud exemplum ab omni Romano sit viro, luctum suum aut intempestivis sevocare lusibus aut sordium ac squaloris foeditate inritare aut alienis malis oblectare minime humano solacio.

The dice were a solace to the Roman prince, mourning his sister! That same Gaius, in frenzied inconstancy, now letting his beard and hair grow, now cutting them, now as a wanderer traversing the shores of Italy and Sicily, and never quite certain whether he wished his sister to be mourned or to be worshiped, at that very same time when he was establishing temples and pulvinars for her, was visiting those who had been insufficiently sorrowful with the most cruel punishment; for with the same intemperance of mind he bore the blows of adverse things, with which, lifted up by the outcome of favorable things, he swelled beyond the human measure. Far be that example from every Roman man—to call off his mourning either by untimely games, or to irritate it by the foulness of filth and squalor, or to amuse himself with others’ misfortunes by a solace least human.

XVIII.

18.

Tibi vero nihil ex consuetudine mutandum est tua, quoniam quidem ea instituisti amare studia, quae et optime felicitatem extollunt et facillime minuunt calamitatem eademque et ornamenta maxima homini sunt et solacia. Nunc itaque te studiis tuis immerge altius, nunc illa tibi velut munimenta animi circumda, ne ex ulla tui parte inveniat introitum dolor. Fratris quoque tui produc memoriam aliquo scriptorum monimento tuorum; hoc enim unum est [in] rebus humanis opus, cui nulla tempestas noceat, quod nulla consumat vetustas.

You, in truth, must change nothing of your custom, since indeed you have set yourself to love those studies, which both most excellently exalt felicity and most easily lessen calamity, and the same are both the greatest ornaments for a man and solaces. Now therefore plunge yourself deeper into your studies, now surround yourself with them as if muniments of the mind, lest grief find an entry from any part of you. Also prolong your brother’s memory by some memorial of your writings; for this is the one work [in] human affairs, which no tempest harms, which no age consumes.

Cetera, quae per constructionem lapidum et marmoreas moles aut terrenos tumulos in magnam eductos altitudinem constant, non propagant longam diem, quippe et ipsa intereunt: immortalis est ingeni memoria. Hanc tu fratri tuo largire, in hac eum conloca; melius illum duraturo semper consecrabis ingenio quam inrito dolore lugebis. Quod ad ipsam Fortunam pertinet, etiam si nunc agi apud te causa eius non potest — omnia enim illa, quae nobis dedit, ob hoc ipsum, quod aliquid eripuit, invisa sunt —, tunc tamen erit agenda, cum primum aequiorem te illi iudicem dies fecerit; tunc enim poteris in gratiam cum illa redire.

The rest, which consist through the construction of stones and marble masses or earthen tumuli raised to great altitude, do not prolong a long day, since they themselves perish: the memory of genius is immortal.
Bestow this upon your brother; in this place him; you will consecrate him better by a genius that will always endure than you will mourn with ineffectual grief.
As for Fortune herself, even if now her case cannot be pleaded before you — for all those things which she has given us are hateful on account of this very fact, that she has snatched something away —, then nevertheless it will have to be pleaded, when first the day has made you a more equitable judge for her; for then you will be able to return into grace with her.

Nam multa providit, quibus hanc emendaret iniuriam, multa etiamnunc dabit, quibus redimat; denique ipsum hoc, quod abstulit, ipsa dederat tibi. Noli ergo contra te ingenio uti tuo, noli adesse dolori tuo. Potest quidem eloquentia tua quae parva sunt adprobare pro magnis, rursus magna attenuare et ad minima deducere; sed alio istas vires servet suas, nunc tota se in solacium tuum conferat.

For she has provided many things by which she might amend this injury,
she will even now give many by which she may redeem it; finally this very thing which she took away,
she herself had given to you. Do not, therefore, use your genius against yourself, do not stand by to assist your grief. Indeed your eloquence
can approve as great the things that are small, and in turn attenuate great things and lead them down to the least;
but let it keep those forces for something else—now let it devote itself wholly to your solace.

Et tamen dispice, ne hoc iam quoque ipsum sit supervacuum; aliquid enim a nobis natura exigit, plus vanitate contrahitur. Numquam autem ego a te, ne ex toto maereas, exigam. Et scio inveniri quosdam durae magis quam fortis prudentiae viros, qui negent doliturum esse sapientem: hi non videntur mihi umquam in eiusmodi casum incidisse, alioquin excussisset illis fortuna superbam sapientiam et ad confessionem eos veri etiam invitos compulisset.

And yet consider, lest this very thing too be already superfluous; for nature exacts something from us, but more is amassed by vanity. Never, however, will I demand of you that you not grieve altogether. And I know there are found certain men of prudence harsh rather than strong, who deny that the wise man will feel grief: these do not seem to me ever to have fallen into such a case; otherwise Fortune would have shaken out of them their proud wisdom and would have compelled them, even unwilling, to a confession of the truth.

Satis praestiterit ratio, si id unum ex dolore, quod et superest et abundat, exciderit: ut quidem nullum omnino esse eum patiatur, nec sperandum ulli nec concupiscendum est. Hunc potius modum servet, qui nec impietatem imitetur nec insaniam et nos in eo teneat habitu, qui et piae mentis est nec motae: fluant lacrimae, sed eaedem et desinant, trahantur ex imo gemitus pectore, sed idem et finantur; sic rege animum tuum, ut et sapientibus te adprobare possis et fratribus. Effice, ut frequenter fratris tui memoriam tibi velis occurrere, ut illum et sermonibus celebres et adsidua recordatione repraesentes tibi, quod ita demum consequi poteris, si tibi memoriam eius iucundam magis quam flebilem feceris; naturale est enim, ut semper animus ab eo refugiat, ad quod cum tristitia revertitur.

Reason will have sufficed, if it excises that one element from grief which both survives and overflows; that it should allow none at all to exist is neither to be hoped for by anyone nor to be desired. Let it rather keep this measure, which imitates neither impiety nor insanity, and hold us in that habit which is of a pious mind and not a moved one: let tears flow, but let these same also cease; let groans be drawn from the deepest breast, but let these likewise be ended. Thus rule your mind, that you may be able to approve yourself both to the wise and to your brothers. Bring it about that you frequently wish your brother’s memory to come up to you, that you both celebrate him in discourses and make him present to yourself by assiduous recollection, which you will then at last be able to achieve, if you make his memory for yourself more pleasant than lamentable; for it is natural that the mind always flees from that to which it returns with sadness.

Cogita modestiam eius, cogita in rebus agendis sollertiam, in exsequendis industriam, in promissis constantiam. Omnia dicta eius ac facta et aliis expone et tibimet ipse commemora. Qualis fuerit cogita qualisque sperari potuerit: quid enim de illo non tuto sponderi fratre posset?

Think upon his modesty, think upon, in managing affairs, his skill, in
executing them his industry, in promises his constancy. All his sayings and deeds both set forth to others and
to yourself personally commemorate. Consider what sort he was and what sort he might have been hoped for: what, indeed, about him
as a brother could not be safely guaranteed?

Haec, utcumque potui, longo iam situ obsoleto et hebetato animo composui. Quae si aut parum respondere ingenio tuo aut parum mederi dolori videbuntur, cogita, quam non possit is alienae vacare consolationi, quem sua mala occupatum tenent, et quam non facile Latina ei homini verba succurrant, quem barbarorum inconditus et barbaris quoque humanioribus gravis fremitus circumsonat.

These things, however I could, I have composed with a mind already by long disuse made obsolete and dulled. Which, if they shall seem either too little to answer to your genius or too little to remedy your grief, consider how one cannot have leisure for another’s consolation, whom his own ills hold occupied, and how not easily Latin words come to that man’s aid, whom the incondite and, even to barbarians more humane, grave roar of the barbarians resounds around.