Seneca: DIALOGI

1 Inquirenti mihi in me quaedam uitia apparebant, Seneca, in aperto posita, quae manu prehenderem, quaedam obscuriora et in recessu, quaedam non continua, sed ex interuallis redeuntia, quae uel molestissima dixerim, ut hostes uagos et ex occasionibus assilientes, per quos neutrum licet, nec tamquam in bello paratum esse nec tamquam in pace securum.

1 As I inquired into myself, certain vices appeared to me, Seneca, set in the open, which I could seize by hand; certain more obscure and in recess; certain not continuous, but returning at intervals—these I would call the most troublesome—like wandering enemies, assailing from occasions, because of whom neither is permitted: neither to be prepared as in war nor to be secure as in peace.

2 Illum tamen habitum in me maxime deprehendo (quare enim non uerum ut medico fatear?), nec bona fide liberatum me iis quae timebam et oderam, nec rursus obnoxium. In statu ut non pessimo, ita maxime querulo et moroso positus sum nec aegroto nec ualeo.

2 Yet that condition in me I most of all detect (for why indeed should I not confess the truth, as to a physician?), that I am not in bona fide freed from the things I feared and hated, nor on the other hand subject to them. Placed in a state which, though not the worst, is most querulous and morose, I am neither sick nor well.

3 Non est quod dicas omnium uirtutum tenera esse principia, tempore illis duramentum et robur accedere. Non ignoro etiam quae in speciem laborant, dignitatem dico et eloquentiae famam et quicquid ad alienum suffragium uenit, mora conualescere: et quae ueras uires parant et quae ad placendum fuco quodam subornantur exspectant annos donec paulatim colorem diuturnitas ducat. Sed ego uereor ne consuetudo, quae rebus affert constantiam, hoc uitium mihi altius figat: tam malorum quam bonorum longa conuersatio amorem induit.

3 There is no reason for you to say that the beginnings of all virtues are tender, that with time a hardening and robustness comes to them. I am not unaware that even the things which labor for show—dignity, I mean, and the fame of eloquence, and whatever comes to another’s suffrage—by delay convalesce; and both those which prepare true powers and those which, for pleasing, are tricked out with a certain cosmetic await years until gradually length of time brings out the color. But I fear lest custom, which brings constancy to things, fix this vice more deeply in me: as long a converse with evils as with goods induces love.

4 Haec animi inter utrumque dubii, nec ad recta fortiter nec ad praua uergentis, infirmitas qualis sit, non tam semel tibi possum quam per partes ostendere. Dicam quae accidant mihi; tu morbo nomen inuenies.

4 This infirmity of a mind wavering between both, inclining neither bravely toward the right nor toward the depraved,
what sort it is, I can show you not so much all at once as by parts. I will tell
what befalls me; you will find a name for the disease.

5 Tenet me summus amor parsimoniae, fateor: placet non in ambitionem cubile compositum, non ex arcula prolata uestis, non ponderibus ac mille tormentis splendere cogentibus expressa, sed domestica et uilis, nec seruata nec sumenda sollicite;

5 The highest love of parsimony holds me, I confess: I like a bed not arranged for ambition, not a garment brought forth from a little chest, not one pressed out and compelled to shine by weights and a thousand torments, but domestic and cheap, neither kept nor to be put on solicitously;

6 placet cibus quem nec parent familiae nec spectent, non ante multos imperatus dies nec multorum manibus ministratus, sed parabilis facilisque, nihil habens arcessiti pretiosiue, ubilibet non defuturus, nec patrimonio nec corpori grauis, non rediturus qua intrauerit;

6 I like food which neither the household-servants prepare nor people look at, not ordered many days beforehand nor ministered by the hands of many, but procurable and easy, having nothing imported or precious, one that will not be lacking anywhere, burdensome neither to patrimony nor to the body, not about to return by the way it entered;

7 placet minister incultus et rudis uernula, argentum graue rustici patris sine ullo nomine artificis, et mensa non uarietate macularum conspicua nec per multas dominorum elegantium successiones ciuitati nota, sed in usum posita, quae nullius conuiuae oculos nec uoluptate moretur nec accendat inuidia.

7 I like a servant unkempt and raw, a homeborn slave; heavy silverware of a rustic father, without any artificer’s name; and a table not conspicuous by a variety of marblings, nor known to the city through many successions of elegant masters, but set for use, which may detain no guest’s eyes either by pleasure or kindle envy.

8 Cum bene ista placuerunt, praestringit animum apparatus alicuius paedagogii, diligentius quam in tralatu uestita et auro culta mancipia et agmen seruorum nitentium, iam domus etiam qua calcatur pretiosa et, diuitiis per omnes angulos dissipatis, tecta ipsa fulgentia, et assectator comesque patrimoniorum pereuntium populus. Quid perlucentes ad imum aquas et circumfluentes ipsa conuiuia, quid epulas loquar scaena sua dignas?

8 When these things have pleased well, the display of some paedagogium bedazzles the mind, more meticulously than chattels dressed for transfer and adorned with gold, and a column of gleaming slaves; already the house too, the very floor that is trodden, is precious, and, with riches scattered through every corner, the very roofs are shining, and a crowd, follower and companion of perishing patrimonies. What of waters transparent to the bottom and banquets themselves encircled by flowing streams, what need I say of feasts worthy of their own stage-set?

9 Circumfudit me ex longo frugalitatis situ uenientem multo splendore luxuria et undique circumsonuit: paulum titubat acies, facilius aduersus illam animum quam oculos attollo; recedo itaque non peior, sed tristior, nec inter illa friuola mea tam altus incedo, tacitusque morsus subit et dubitatio numquid illa meliora sint. Nihil horum me mutat, nihil tamen non concutit.

9 Luxury, with much splendor, poured around me as I came from a long condition of frugality and resounded from all sides: a little my gaze totters, I lift up my mind against it more easily than my eyes; I withdraw therefore not worse, but sadder, nor among those trifles of mine do I stride so high, and a silent bite steals on and a doubt whether perchance those things are better. None of this changes me, yet everything shakes me.

10 Placet imperia praeceptorum sequi et in mediam ire rem publicam; placet honores fascesque non scilicet purpura aut uirgis abductum capessere, sed ut amicis propinquisque et omnibus ciuibus, omnibus deinde mortalibus paratior utiliorque sim: promptus, imperitus, sequor Zenona, Cleanthen, Chrysippum, quorum tamen nemo ad rem publicam accessit, et nemo non misit.

10 It pleases me to follow the commands of precepts and to go into the very midst of the Republic; it pleases me to take up honors and the fasces, not, to be sure, as one carried off by the purple or the rods, but so that I may be more ready and more useful to friends and relatives and to all citizens, then to all mortals: prompt, inexpert, I follow Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, of whom, however, no one approached the Republic, and there was none who did not send others into it.

11 Vbi aliquid animum insolitum arietari percussit, ubi aliquid occurrit aut indignum, ut in omni uita humana multa sunt, aut parum ex facili flens, aut multum temporis res non magno aestimandae poposcerunt, ad otium conuertor, et, quemadmodum pecoribus, fatigatis quoque, uelocior domum gradus est.

11 When something unusual rams and strikes the mind, when something occurs either unworthy—as in all
human life there are many—or I, somewhat too easily, am weeping, or matters not to be greatly esteemed have
demanded much time, I turn to leisure; and, just as for cattle, even when fatigued, the step homeward is swifter.

12 Placet intra parietes rursus uitam coercere: nemo ullum auferat diem, nihil dignum tanto impendio redditurus; sibi ipse animus haereat, se colat, nihil alieni agat, nihil quod ad iudicem spectet; ametur expers publicae priuataeque curae tranquillitas.

12 It pleases me to confine life again within walls: let no one carry off any day, to return nothing worthy of so great an outlay; let the mind cleave to itself, cultivate itself, do nothing alien, nothing that looks toward a judge; let a tranquillity devoid of public and private care be loved.

13 Sed, ubi lectio fortior erexit animum et aculeos subdiderunt exempla nobilia, prosilire libet in forum, commodare alteri uocem, alteri operam, etiam si nihil profuturam, tamen conaturam prodesse, aliculus coercere in foro superbiam male secundis rebus elati.

13 But, when a stronger reading has raised the mind and noble exemplars have set spurs beneath it, it is pleasing to leap forth into the forum, to lend to one man a voice, to another effort—even if it will profit nothing, nevertheless attempting to be of use— to curb in the forum the pride of someone exalted by prosperous circumstances ill-borne.

14 In studiis puto mehercules melius esse res ipsas intueri et harum causa loqui, ceterum uerba rebus permittere, ut qua duxerint, hac inelaborata sequatur oratio. Quid opus est saeculis duratura componere? Vis tu non id agere, ne te posteri taceant!

14 In studies, by Hercules, I think it is better to look upon the things themselves and to speak for their sake, and moreover to permit the words to the things, so that, wherever they have led, the oration, unlabored, may follow in that direction. What need is there to compose what will endure for ages? Pray do not make it your business that posterity not be silent about you!

Morti natus es: minus molestiarum habet funus tacitum. Itaque occupandi temporis causa in usum tuum, non in praeconium, aliquid simplici stilo scribe: minore labore opus est studentibus in diem.

You are born for death: a silent funeral has fewer annoyances. Therefore, for the sake of occupying time, for your own use, not for proclamation, write something in a simple style: less labor is needed for those studying for the day.

15 Rursus, ubi se animus cogitationum magnitudine leuauit, ambitiosus in uerba est altiasque ut spirare, ita eloqui gestit, et ad dignitatem rerum exit oratio. Oblitus tum legis pressiorisque iudicii, sublimius feror et ore iam non meo.

15 Again, when the mind has lifted itself by the magnitude of its cogitations, it is ambitious in words and, just as to breathe more loftily, so to speak it longs, and the oration issues forth to the dignity of the matters. Forgetful then of the law and of a stricter judgment, I am borne more sublimely and with a mouth now not my own.

16 Ne singula diutius persequar, in omnibus rebus haec me sequitur bonae mentis infirmitas, cui ne paulatim defluam uereor, aut, quod est sollicitius, ne semper casuro similis pendeam et plus fortasse sit quam quod ipse peruideo. Familiariter enim domestica aspicimus, et semper iudicio fauor officit.

16 Lest I pursue individual points too long, in all matters this infirmity of a good mind follows me, and I fear lest I slip away little by little, or—what is more anxious—lest I always hang like one about to fall, and that it perhaps be more than what I myself foresee. For we look upon our domestic things familiarly, and favor always hinders judgment.

17 Puto multos potuisse ad sapientiam peruenire, nisi putassent se peruenisse, nisi quaedam in se dissimulassent, quaedam opertis oculis transiluissent. Non est enim quod magis aliena iudices adulatione nos perire quam nostra. Quis sibi uerum dicere ausus est?

17 I think many could have attained to
sapience, if they had not thought that they had attained, if they had not dissembled certain things in themselves,
if they had not, with eyes shut, leapt over certain things. For do not judge that we perish more
by others’ adulation than by our own. Who has dared to tell himself the
truth?

quis non, inter laudantium blandientiumque positus greges, plurimum tamen sibi ipse assentatus est?

Who is there who has not, set amid flocks of lauders and blandishers, yet been his own flatterer most of all?

18 Rogo itaque, si quod habes remedium quo hanc fluctuationem meam sistas, dignum me putes qui tibi tranquillitatem debeam. Non esse periculosos hos motus animi nec quicquam tumultuosi afferentes scio; ut uera tibi similitudine id de quo queror exprimam, non tempestate uexor, sed nausea: detrahe ergo quicquld hoc est mali, et succurre in conspectu terrarum laboranti.

18 I ask, therefore, if you have any remedy by which you may stop this fluctuation of mine, judge me worthy to owe tranquility to you. I know that these motions of mind are not perilous nor bring anything tumultuous; to express to you by a true similitude that of which I complain, I am not vexed by a tempest, but by nausea: therefore remove whatever this evil is, and succor one laboring in the sight of land.

II.

1 Quaero mehercules iamdudum, Serene, ipse tacitus, cui talem affectum animi similem putem, nec ulli propius admouerim exemplo quam eorum qui, ex longa et graui ualetudine expliciti, motiunculis leuibusque interim offensis perstringuntur et, cum reliquias effugerunt, suspicionibus tamen inquietantur medicisque iam sani manum porrigunt et omnem calorem corporis sui calumniantur. Horum, Serene, non parum sanum est corpus, sed sanitati parum assueuit, sicut est quidam tremor etiam tranquilli maris motusque, cum ex tempestate requieuit.

1 I have been inquiring, by Hercules, for a long time now, Serene, silently by myself, to what such an affection of mind I should think it similar, nor have I brought it nearer to any example than to those who, released from a long and grave valetude, are grazed now and then by little motions and slight offenses, and, though they have escaped the remnants, are nevertheless disquieted by suspicions and, already sound, extend their hand to the physicians and calumniate every heat of their body. Of such people, Serene, the body is not a little sound, but it is little accustomed to soundness, just as there is a certain tremor and movement even of a tranquil sea, when it has rested from a tempest.

2 Opus est itaque non illis durioribus, quae iam transcucurrimus, ut alicubi obstes tibi, alicubi irascaris, alicubi instes grauis, sed illo quod ultimum uenit, ut fidem tibi habeas et recta ire te uia credas, nihil auocatus transuersis multorum uestigiis passim discurrentium, quorundam circa ipsam errantium uiam.

2 There is need, therefore, not of those harsher measures which we have already run through—so that in some places you oppose yourself, in some you are irate with yourself, in some you press hard, grave—but of that which comes last: that you have trust in yourself and believe that you are going by the right way, in no way distracted by the transverse tracks of the many running about everywhere, some erring around the very way itself.

3 Quod desideras autem magnum et summum est deoque uicinum, non concuti.

3 What you desire, moreover, is great and supreme and near to god: not to be shaken.

Hanc stabilem animi sedem Graeci euthymian uocant, de qua Democriti uolumen egregium est, ego tranquillitatem uoco: nec enim imitari et transferre uerba ad illorum formam necesse est; res ipsa de qua agitur aliquo signanda nomine est, quod appellationis graecae uim debet habere, non faciem.

This stable seat of the mind the Greeks call euthymia, on which there is an excellent volume of Democritus; I call it tranquility: for it is not necessary to imitate and transfer words into their form; the thing itself which is being dealt with must be designated by some name, which ought to have the force of the Greek appellation, not the face.

4 Ergo quaerimus quomodo animus semper aequali secundoque cursu eat propitiusque sibi sit et sua laetus aspiciat et hoc gaudium non interrumpat, sed placido statu maneat, nec attollens se umquam nec deprimens. Id tranquillitas erit. Quomodo ad hanc perueniri possit in uniuersum quaeramus; sumes tu ex publico remedio quantum uoles.

4 Therefore we inquire how the mind may always go with an equal and favorable course,
be propitious to itself, and gladly behold its own, and not interrupt this joy, but
remain in a placid state, neither ever raising itself nor depressing itself. That will be tranquillity.
Let us inquire in general how one can be brought to this; you will take from the common remedy as much as you wish.

5 Totum interim uitium in medium protrahendum est, ex quo agnoscet quisque partem suam. Simul tu intelleges quanto minus negotii habeas cum fastidio tui quam ii quos, ad professionem speciosam alligatos et sub ingenti titulo laborantes, in sua simulatione pudor magis quam uoluntas tenet.

5 Meanwhile the whole vice must be dragged into the midst, from which each will recognize his own share. At the same time you will understand how much less trouble you have with self-disgust than those whom, bound to a specious profession and laboring under a huge title, shame rather than will holds in their simulation.

6 Omnes in eadem causa sunt, et hi qui leuitate uexantur ac taedio assiduaque mutatione propositi, quibus semper magis placet quod reliquerunt, et illi qui marcent et oscitantur. Adice eos qui non aliter quam quibus difficilis somnus est uersant se et hoc atque illo modo componunt, donec quietem lassitudine inueniant: statum uitae suae reformando subinde, in eo nouissime manent, in quo illos non mutandi odium, sed senectus ad nouandum pigra deprehendit. Adice et illos, qui non constantiae uitio parum lenes sunt, sed inertiae, et uiuunt non quomodo uolunt, sed quomodo coeperunt.

6 All are in the same case, both those who are vexed by levity and tedium and by an assiduous change of purpose, to whom what they have left behind always pleases more, and those who languish and yawn. Add those who, like people for whom sleep is difficult, turn themselves about and compose themselves now this way now that, until they find rest through weariness: by repeatedly reforming the state of their life, they at last remain in that condition in which it is not a hatred of changing that fixes them, but a sluggish old age for renewing overtakes them. Add also those who are unbending not by a vice of constancy but of inertia, and live not as they wish, but as they began.

7 Innumerabiles deinceps proprietates sunt, sed unus effectus uitii, sibi displicere. Hoc oritur ab intemperie animi et cupiditatibus timidis aut parum prosperis, ubi aut non audent quantum concupiscunt aut non consequuntur, et in spem toti prominent. Semper instabiles mobilesque sunt, quod necesse est accidere pendentibus.

7 Innumerable properties, next, there are, but one is the effect of the vice: to be displeased with oneself. This arises from an intemperance of mind and from desires timid or too little prosperous, when either they do not dare as much as they long for or they do not attain it, and they project themselves wholly into hope. They are always unstable and mobile, which must needs befall those who are hanging.

Ad uota sua omni uia tendunt et inhonesta se ac difficilia docent coguntque, et, ubi sine praemio labor est, torquet illos irritum dedecus, nec dolent praua, sed frustra uoluisse.

They tend toward their vows by every way and both instruct and coerce themselves to dishonorable and difficult things; and, when labor is without reward, a vain disgrace torments them, nor do they grieve the depraved things, but that they have wished in vain.

8 Tunc illos et paenitentia coepti tenet et incipiendi timor, subrepitque illa animi iactatio non inuenientis exitum, quia nec imperare cupiditatibus suis nec obsequi possunt, et cunctatio uitae parum se explicantis et inter destituta uota torpentis animi situs.

8 Then both penitence for what has been begun holds them and fear of beginning, and that tossing of the mind that does not find an exit steals in, since they can neither command their cupidities nor comply with them, and there is a hesitation of a life that scarcely unfolds itself, and the stagnation of a torpid mind amid abandoned vows.

9 Quae omnia grauiora sunt ubi odjo infelicitatis operosae ad otium perfugerunt ac secreta studia, quae pati non potest animus ad ciuilia erectus agendique cupidus et natura inquies, parum scilicet in se solaciorum habens. Ideo, detractis oblectationibus quas ipsae occupationes discurrentibus praebent, domum, solitudinem, parietes non fert; inuitus aspicit se sibi relictum.

9 All these things are more grievous when, out of hatred of toilsome infelicity, they have taken refuge in leisure and in secret studies, which a mind raised to civil affairs, eager for action, and restless by nature cannot endure, manifestly having too few solaces in itself. Therefore, with the delectations removed which the occupations themselves offer to those running about, he does not bear home, solitude, walls; unwillingly he looks upon himself left to himself.

10 Hinc illud est taedium et displicentia sui et nusquam residentis animi uolutatio et otii sui tristis atque aegra patientia, utique ubi causas fateri pudet et tormenta introrsus egit uerecundia, in angusto inclusae cupiditates sine exitu se ipsae strangulant; inde maeror marcorque et mille fluctus mentis incertae, quam spes inchoatae suspensam habent, deploratae tristem; inde ille affectus otium suum detestantium querentiumque nihil ipsos habere quod agant, et alienis incrementis inimicissima inuidia (alit enim liuorem infelix inertia et omnes destrui cupiunt, quia se non potuere prouehere);

10 Hence comes that tedium and displeasure with oneself and the rolling of a mind that settles nowhere, and the sad and sickly sufferance of one’s own leisure, especially when it is shameful to confess the causes and modesty has driven the torments inward; desires shut up in a narrow place, without exit, strangle themselves; thence mourning and languor and a thousand billows of an uncertain mind, which begun hopes hold suspended, and, once bewailed as lost, sad; thence that affect of those who detest their own leisure and complain that they themselves have nothing they can do, and an envy most hostile to others’ increments (for unhappy inertia nourishes ill-will, and they desire all to be destroyed, because they have not been able to advance themselves);

11 ex hac deinde auersatione alienorum processuum et suorum desperatione obirascens fortunae animus et de saeculo querens et in angulos se retrahens et poenae incubans suae, dum illum taedet sui pigetque. Natura enim humanus animus agilis est et pronus ad motus. Grata omnis illi excitandi se abstrahendique materia est, gratior pessimis quibusque ingeniis, quae occupationibus libenter deteruntur: ut ulcera quaedam nocituras manus appetunt et tactu gaudent et foedam corporum scabiem delectat quicquid exasperat, non aliter dixerim his mentibus, in quas cupiditates uelut mala ulcera eruperunt, uoluptati esse laborem uexationemque.

11 from this, then, aversion to others’ progress and
desperation about their own, the mind grows angry at Fortune and complains of the age and
withdraws itself into corners and broods over its own penalty, while it is weary of itself and is sick of itself.
For by nature the human mind is agile and prone to motions. Every material for rousing itself
and for abstracting itself is pleasing to it, more pleasing to the worst natures, which are gladly worn down by occupations:
as certain ulcers seek hands that will harm them and rejoice at touch, and the foul scab of bodies is delighted by whatever exasperates it, not otherwise
would I say of those minds, in which desires have erupted like evil ulcers, that labor
and vexation are a pleasure.

12 Sunt enim quaedam quae corpus quoque nostrum cum quodam dolore delectent, ut uersare se et mutare nondum fessum latus et alio atque alio positu uentilari: qualis ille homericus Achilles est, modo pronus, modo supinus, in uarios habitus se ipse componens, quod proprium aegri est, nihil diu pati et mutationibus ut remediis uti.

12 For there are certain things which also delight our body with a certain pain, as to turn oneself and to change the side not yet weary and to be ventilated by one position and another: such as that homeric Achilles, now prone, now supine, composing himself into various postures, which is characteristic of the sick person, to endure nothing for long and to use changes as remedies.

13 Inde peregrinationes suscipiuntur uagae et litora pererrantur et modo mari se, modo terra experitur semper praesentibus infesta leuitas: "Nunc Campaniam petamus." Iam delicata fastidio sunt: "Inculta uideantur, Bruttios et Lucaniae saltus persequamur." Aliquid tamen inter deserta amoeni requiritur, in quo luxuriosi oculi longo locorun horrentium squalore releuentur: "Tarentum petatur laudatusque portus et hiberna caeli mitioris et regio uel antiquae satis opulenta turbae.... Iam flectamus cursum ad Vrbem: nimis diu a plausu et fragore aures uacauerunt, iuuat iam et humano sanguine frui."

13 Thence vagrant peregrinations are undertaken, and the shores are wandered over, and now by sea, now by land, the fickleness hostile to things present tries itself: "Now let us seek Campania." Already the delicacies are a matter of disgust: "Let the uncultivated be looked upon; let us pursue the Bruttii and the glades of Lucania." Yet something pleasant is sought amid the deserts, in which the luxurious eyes may be relieved from the long squalor of dreadful places: "Let Tarentum be sought, and the lauded harbor, and the winterings of a milder sky, and a region sufficiently opulent with an ancient populace.... Now let us bend our course to the City: too long have our ears been free from applause and din; now it even delights to enjoy human blood."

14 Aliud ex alio iter suscipitur et spectacula spectaculis mutantur. Vt ait Lucretius:

14 Another journey is undertaken out of another, and spectacles are changed for spectacles. As Lucretius says:

Hoc se quisque modo semper fugit.

In this way each person always flees himself.

Sed quid prodest, si non effugit? Sequitur se ipse et urget grauissimus comes.

But what does it profit, if he does not escape? He follows himself, and the gravest companion presses.

15 Itaque scire debemus non locorum uitium esse quo laboramus, sed nostrum: infirmi sumus ad omne tolerandum, nec laboris patientes nec uoluptatis nec nostri nec ullius rei diutius. Hoc quosdam egit ad mortem: quod proposita saepe mutando in eadem reuoluebantur et non reliquerant nouitati locum, fastidio esse illis coepit uita et ipse mundus, et subiit illud tabidarum deliciarum: "Quousque eadem?"

15 Therefore we ought to know that the fault is not of the places under which we labor, but our own: we are infirm for enduring anything, patient neither of labor nor of pleasure nor of ourselves nor of any thing for long. This has driven some to death: because, by often changing their purposes, they kept revolving into the same things and had left no room for novelty, life and the world itself began to be a disgust to them, and there stole upon them that refrain of wasting-away delights: "How long the same things?"

III.

1 Aduersus hoc taedium quo auxillo putem utendum quaeris. Optimum erat, ut ait Athenodorus, actione rerum et rei publicae tractatione et officiis ciuilibus se detinere. Nam, ut quidam sole atque exercitatione et cura corporis diem educunt athletisque longe utilissimum est lacertos suos roburque, cui se uni dicauerunt, maiore temporis parte nutrire, ita nobis, animum ad rerum ciuilium certamen parantibus, in opere esse nostro longe pulcherrimum est: nam, cum utilem se efficere ciuibus mortalibusque propositum habeat, simul et exercetur et proficit qui in mediis se officiis posuit, communia priuataque pro facultate administrans.

1 Against this tedium what aid I should think ought to be employed you ask. The best, as Athenodorus says, was to occupy oneself with the action of affairs, with the handling of the republic, and with civil offices. For, just as certain people with sun and exercise and care of the body draw out the day, and for athletes it is by far most useful to nourish their biceps and the robustness to which alone they have dedicated themselves for the greater part of their time, so for us, preparing the mind for the contest of civic affairs, to be at our work is by far the most beautiful: for, since one has the purpose of making himself useful to citizens and to fellow mortals, he is at once both exercised and he makes progress who has placed himself in the midst of duties, administering public and private matters according to his capacity.

2 "Sed, quia in hac, inquit, tam insana hominum ambitione, tot calumniatoribus in deterius recta torquentibus, parum tuta simplicitas est et plus futurum semper est quod obstet quam quod succedat, a foro quidem et publico recedendum est. Sed habet ubi se etiam in priuato laxe explicet magnus animus, nec, ut leonum animaliumque impetus caueis coercetur, sic hominum, quorum maximae in seducto actiones sunt.

2 "But, because in this," he says, "so insane ambition of men, with so many calumniators twisting the straight to the worse, simplicity is little safe, and there will always be more that obstructs than that which succeeds, one must indeed withdraw from the forum and the public. But a great spirit has where, even in private, it may unfold itself at large, nor, as the onrush of lions and of animals is restrained by cages, so that of men, whose greatest actions are in seclusion.

3 Ita tamen delituerit, ut, ubicumque otium suum absconderit, prodesse uelit singulis uniuersisque ingenio, uoce, consilio. Nec enim is solus rei publicae prodest, qui candidatos extrahit et tuetur reos et de pace belloque censet; sed qui iuuentutem exhortatur, qui in tanta bonorum praeceptorum inopia uirtutem insinuat animis, qui ad pecuniam luxuriamque cursu ruentes prensat ac retrahit et, si nihil aliud, certe moratur, in priuato publicum negotium agit.

3 Yet let him have hidden himself in such a way that, wherever he has concealed his leisure, he should wish to be of benefit to individuals and to all by talent, by voice, by counsel. For not he alone benefits the republic, who brings forth candidates and protects the accused and opines about peace and war; but he who exhorts the youth, who, in so great a scarcity of good precepts, insinuates virtue into minds, who grasps and draws back those rushing at a run toward money and luxury and, if nothing else, at least delays them, in private conducts public business.

4 An ille plus praestat, qui inter peregrinos et ciues aut urbanus praetor adeuntibus assessoris uerba pronuntiat, quam qui quid sit iustitia, quid pietas, quid patientia, quid fortitudo, quid mortis contemptus, quid deorum intellectus, quam gratuitum bonum sit bona conscientia?

4 Or does that man confer more, who, among foreigners and citizens—or as the urban praetor—pronounces to those who approach the assessor’s words, than he who teaches what justice is, what piety, what patience, what fortitude, what contempt of death, what understanding of the gods, how gratuitous a good a good conscience is?

5 Ergo, si tempus in studia conferas quod subduxeris offlciis, non deserueris nec munus detractaueris: neque enim ille solus militat qui in acie stat et cornu dextrum laeuumque defendit, sed et qui portas tuetur et statione minus periculosa, non otiosa tamen fungitur uigiliasque seruat et armamentario praeest quae ministeria, quamuis incruenta sint, in numerum stipendiorum ueniunt.

5 Therefore, if you confer upon studies the time that you have subtracted from duties, you will not have deserted nor declined the charge: for not he alone serves as a soldier who stands in the battle-line and defends the right and left wing, but also he who guards the gates and, at a station less perilous, yet not idle, performs the watches and keeps guard and is in charge of the armory—services which, although bloodless, come into the register of stipends.

6 Si te ad studia reuocaueris, omne uitae fastidium effugeris, nec noctem fieri optabis taedio lucis, nec tibi grauis eris nec aliis superuacuus; multos in amicitiam attrahes affluetque ad te optimus quisque. Numquam enim, quamuis obscura, uirtus latet, sed mittit sui signa: quisquis dignus fuerit uestigiis illam colliget.

6 If you call yourself back to studies, you will escape all of life’s disgust, and you will not wish night to come from a tedium of the light, nor will you be burdensome to yourself nor superfluous to others; you will attract many into friendship, and every best man will flow to you. For virtue, although obscure, never lies hidden, but sends out signs of itself: whoever shall be worthy will gather her by her vestiges.

7 Nam, si omnem conuersationem tollimus et generi humano renuntiamus uiuimusque in nos tantum conuersi, sequetur hanc solitudinem omni studio carentem inopia rerum agendarum: incipiemus aedificia alia ponere, alia subuertere, et mare summouere et aquas contra difficultatem locorum educere, et male dispensare tempus quod nobis natura consumendum dedit.

7 For, if we remove all conversation and renounce the human race and live turned only toward ourselves, there will follow upon this solitude, lacking all study, a want of things to be done: we shall begin to erect some buildings, to subvert others, and to drive back the sea and to lead out waters against the difficulty of the localities, and to dispense badly the time which nature gave us to be consumed.

8 Alii parce illo utimur, alii prodige; alii sic impendimus ut possimus rationem reddere, alii ut nullas habeamus reliquias, qua re nihil turpius est. Saepe grandis natu senex nullum aliud habet argumentuum quo se probet diu uixisse, praeter aetatem."

8 Others use it sparingly, others prodigally; some expend it in such a way that we can render an account, others in such a way that we have no remnants, than which nothing is more disgraceful. Often an old man, great in years, has no other argument by which he proves himself to have lived long, except his age."

IV.

1 Mihi, carissime Serene, nimis uidetur summisisse temporibus se Athenodorus, nimis cito refugisse. Nec ego negauerim aliquando cedendum, sed sensim relato gradu et saluis signis, salua militari dignitate: sanctiores tutioresque sunt hostibus suis qui in fidem cum armis ueniunt.

1 To me, dearest Serenus, Athenodorus seems to have lowered himself to the times too much, to have retreated too quickly. Nor would I deny that one must sometimes yield, but gradually, with the step drawn back and the standards safe, with military dignity intact: more sacrosanct and safer are they to their enemies who come into their good faith with arms.

2 Hoc puto uirtuti faciendum studiosoque uirtutis: si praeualebit fortuna et praecidet agendi facultatem, non statim auersus inermisque fugiat, latebras quaerens, quasi ullus locus sit quo non possit fortuna persequi, sed parcius se inferat officiis et cum dilectu inueniat aliquid in quo utilis ciuitati sit.

2 This, I think, is to be done by virtue and by the studious devotee of virtue: if Fortune shall prevail and cut off the faculty of acting, let him not at once, averted and unarmed, take flight, seeking hiding-places, as if there were any place to which Fortune could not pursue; but let him more sparingly thrust himself into duties, and with selection find something in which he may be useful to the commonwealth.

3 Militare non licet: honores petat. Priuato uiuendum est: sit orator. Silentium indictum est: tacita aduocatione ciues iuuet.

3 It is not permitted to soldier: let him seek honors (public offices). One must live as a private citizen: let him be an orator. Silence has been proclaimed: let him aid the citizens by silent advocacy.

Periculosum etiam ingressu forum est: in domibus, in spectaculis, in conuiuiis bonum contubernalem, fidelem amicum, temperantem conuiuam agat. Officia ciuis amisit: hominis exerceat.

Even to enter the forum is perilous: in houses, at spectacles, in convivial banquets, let him act the part of a good contubernal, a faithful friend, a temperate guest. He has lost the offices of a citizen: let him exercise those of a human being.

4 Ideo magno animo nos non unius urbis moenibus clusimus, sed in totius orbis commercium emisimus patriamque nobis mundum professi sumus, ut liceret latiorem uirtuti campum dare. Praeclusum tibi tribunal est et rostris prohiberis aut comitiis: respice post te quantum latissimarum regionum pateat, quantum populorum. Numquam ita tibi magna pars obstruetur, ut non maior relinquatur.

4 Therefore with great spirit we did not shut ourselves within the walls of a single city, but we sent ourselves forth into the commerce of the whole world and have professed the world our fatherland, so that it might be permitted to give a broader field to virtue. The tribunal is closed to you and you are prohibited from the rostra or the comitia: look behind you at how much of the very broad regions lies open, how many peoples. Never will so great a portion be blocked off to you, that a greater will not be left.

5 Sed uide ne totum istud tuum uitium sit. Non uis enim nisi consul aut prytanis aut ceryx aut sufes administrare rem publicam. Quid si militare nolis nisi imperator aut tribunus?

5 But see lest that whole thing be your own fault. For you do not wish to administer the republic except as consul or prytanis or ceryx or sufes. What if you are unwilling to do military service unless as imperator or tribune?

Etiam si alii primam frontem tenebunt, te sors inter triarios posuerit, inde uoce, adhortatione, exemplo, animo milita: praecisis quoque manibus, ille in proelio inuenit quod partibus conferat, qui stat tamen et clamore iuuat.

Even if others hold the foremost front, and the lot has placed you among the Triarii, from there soldier with your voice, exhortation, example, and spirit: even with hands cut off, he still finds in battle something to confer upon his side, who stands nevertheless and helps with clamor.

6 Tale quiddam facias: si a prima te rei publicae parte fortuna summouerit, stes tamen et clamore iuues, et, si quis fauces oppresserit, stes tamen et silentio iuues. Numquam inutilis est opera ciuis boni: auditus est uisusque. Vultu, nutu, obstinatione tacita incessuque ipso prodest.

6 Do something of such a kind: if fortune removes you from the foremost part of the republic, nevertheless stand and help with clamor, and, if someone has pressed your throat, nevertheless stand and help with silence. Never is the service of a good citizen useless: he is heard and seen. By countenance, by a nod, by silent obstinacy, and by his very bearing he does good.

7 Vt salutaria quaedam citra gustum tactumque odore proficiunt, ita uirtus utilitatem etiam ex longinquo et latens fundit: siue spatiatur et se utitur suo iure, siue precarios habet excessus cogiturque uela contrahere, siue otiosa mutaque est et anguste circumsaepta, siue adaperta, in quocumque habitu est, proficit. Quid tu parum utile putas exemplum bene quiescentis?

7 As certain salutary things make progress by odor without taste or touch, so virtue pours out usefulness even from afar and while latent: whether it walks abroad and avails itself of its own prerogative, or has precarious excursions and is compelled to reef the sails, or is idle and mute and narrowly hemmed in, or laid open, in whatever condition it is, it profits. Do you think the example of one who rests well of too little use?

8 Longe itaque optimum est miscere otium rebus, quotiens actuosa uita impedimentis fortuitis aut ciuitatis condicione prohibebitur; numquam enim usque eo interclusa sunt omnia, ut nulli actioni locus honestae sit.

8 Far and away, therefore, it is best to mix leisure with affairs, whenever an active life shall be prohibited by fortuitous impediments or by the condition of the state; for never are all things so shut off, that there is no place for any honorable action.

1 Numquid potes inuenire urbem miseriorem quam Atheniensium fuit, cum illam triginta tyranni diuellerent? Mille trecentos ciues, optimum quemque, occiderant, nec finem ideo faciebant, sed irritabat se ipsa saeuitia. In qua ciuitate erat Areos pagos, religiosissimum iudicium, in qua senatus populusque senatui similis, coibat cotidie carnificum triste collegium et infelix curia tyrannis augusta.

1 Can you find a city more miserable than that of the Athenians was, when the Thirty Tyrants were tearing it apart? They had slain one thousand three hundred citizens—the best of each—and yet they were not therefore making an end, but cruelty itself was goading itself on. In that commonwealth where there was the Areopagus, a most religious tribunal, where there were a senate and a people akin to a senate, there met daily a grim college of executioners and an unlucky curia, august to tyrants.

Poteratne illa ciuitas conquiescere, in qua tot tyranni erant quot satellites essent? Ne spes quidem ulla recipiendae libertatis animis poterat offerri, nec ulli remedio locus apparebat contra tantam uim malorum: unde enim miserae ciuitati tot Harmodios?

Could that city come to rest, in which there were as many tyrants as there were henchmen? Not even any hope of recovering liberty could be offered to their minds, nor did any place for a remedy appear against so great a force of evils: whence, indeed, for the wretched city, so many Harmodii?

2 Socrates tamen in medio erat, et lugentes patres consolabatur, et desperantes de re publica exhortabatur, et diuitibus opes suas metuentibus exprobrabat seram periculosae auaritiae paenitentiam, et imitari uolentibus magnum circumferebat exemplar, cum inter triginta dominos liber incederet.

2 Socrates, however, was in the midst, and he consoled the mourning fathers, and he exhorted those despairing of the commonwealth, and to the rich fearing for their wealth he reproached the late penitence of perilous avarice, and to those wishing to imitate he bore around a great exemplar, since he advanced free among thirty masters.

3 Hunc tamen Athenae ipsae in carcere occiderunt, et qui tuto insultauerat agmini tyrannorum, eius libertatem libertas non tulit: ut scias et in afflicta re publica esse occasionem sapienti uiro ad se proferendum, et in florenti ae beata petulantium, inuidiam, mille alia inertia uitia regnare.

3 Nevertheless Athens herself killed this man in prison, and the one who had safely insulted the column of tyrants, liberty did not bear his liberty: so that you may know both that in an afflicted republic there is an occasion for a wise man to bring himself forward, and that in a flourishing and blessed one the petulance of the petulant, envy, and a thousand other inert vices reign.

4 Vtcumque ergo se res publica dabit, utcumque fortuna permittet, ita aut explicabimus nos aut contrahemus, utique mouebimus nec alligati metu torpebimus. Immo ille uir fuerit, qui, periculis undique imminentibus, armis circa et catenis frementibus, non alliserit uirtutem nec absconderit: non est enim seruare se obruere.

4 However, therefore, the republic will present itself in whatever way, however Fortune will permit, thus we will either expand ourselves or contract, in any case we will move, nor, bound by fear, shall we grow torpid. Rather, that will be the man who, with dangers imminent on every side, with arms round about and chains clanking, will not have dashed his virtue nor hidden it away: for to preserve oneself is not to bury oneself.

5 Vt opinor, Curius Dentatus aiebat malle esse se mortuum quam uiuere: ultimum malorum est e uiuorum numero exire antequam moriaris. Sed faciendum erit, si in rei publicae tempus minus tractabile incideris, ut plus otio ac litteris uindices, nec aliter quam in periculosa nauigatione subinde portum petas, nec exspectes donec res te dimittant, sed ab illis te ipse diiungas.

5 As I suppose, Curius Dentatus used to say that he preferred to be dead rather than to live: the ultimate of evils is to go out of the number of the living before you die. But this will have to be done, if you fall upon a less tractable time of the republic, that you vindicate more for leisure and letters, and, just as in a perilous navigation, from time to time seek a port, and do not expect until affairs dismiss you, but disjoin yourself from them.

VI.

1 Inspicere autem debebimus primum nosmet ipsos, deinde ea quae aggrediemur negotia, deinde eos quorum causa aut cum quibus.

1 We ought, moreover, to inspect first our own selves, then the business which we shall undertake, then those for whose sake or with whom.

2 Ante omnia necesse est se ipsum aestimare, quia fere plus nobis uidemur posse quam possumus: alius eloquentiae fiducia prolabitur, alius patrimonio suo plus imperauit quam ferre posset, alius infirmum corpus laborioso pressit officio.

2 Before all things
it is necessary to estimate oneself, because we almost always seem to ourselves to be able more than we can: one, by confidence in eloquence, slips; another has exercised more command by his patrimony than he could bear; another has pressed a weak body with a laborious office.

3 Quorundam parum idonea est uerecundia rebus ciuilibus, quae firmam frontem desiderant; quorundam contumacia non facit ad aulam; quidam non habent iram in potestate, et illos ad temeraria uerba quaelibet indignatio effert; quidam urbanitatem nesciunt continere nec periculosis abstinent salibus: omnibus his utilior negotio quies est. Ferox impatiensque natura irritamenta nociturae libertatis euitet.

3 For some, modesty is too little fit for civil affairs, which require a firm front they require; for some, contumacy does not suit the court; some do not have anger in their power, and indignation carries them to rash words of any sort; some do not know how to restrain urbanity nor abstain from perilous sallies: for all these quiet is more useful to business. A fierce and impatient nature should avoid the provocations of a freedom that will do harm.

4 Considerandum est utrum natura tua agendis rebus an otioso studio contemplationique aptior sit, et eo inclinandum quo te uis ingenii feret: Isocrates Ephorum iniecta manu a foro subduxit, utiliorem componendis monumentis historiarum ratus. Male enim respondent coacta ingenia; reluctante natura, irritus labor est.

4 It must be considered whether your nature is more apt for conducting affairs or for idle study and contemplation, and you should incline to that toward which the force of your genius carries you: Isocrates, with a hand laid on Ephorus, led him away from the forum, thinking him more useful for composing monuments of histories. For forced talents respond badly; with nature resisting, the labor is fruitless.

5 Aestimanda sunt deinde ipsa quae aggredimur, et uires nostrae cum rebus quas tentaturi sumus comparandae. Debet enim semper plus esse uirium in actore quam in opere: necesse est opprimant onera quae ferente maiora sunt.

5 Then the very things which we undertake must be assessed, and our forces compared with the matters we are about to attempt. For there ought always to be more strength in the agent than in the work: burdens which are greater than the bearer must needs overwhelm.

6 Quaedam praeterea non tam magna sunt quam fecunda multumque negotiorum ferunt: et haec refugienda sunt, ex quibus noua occupatio multiplexque nascetur. Nec accedendum eo unde liber regressus non sit: iis admouenda manus est, qùorum finem aut facere aut certe sperare possis relinquenda, quae latius actu procedunt nec ubi proposueris desinunt.

6 Certain things, moreover, are not so great as they are fecund and they carry much business: and these are to be shunned, from which a new and manifold occupation will be born. Nor should one approach that whence there is no free regress: the hand is to be applied to those of which you can either make an end or at least hope for one; to be left are those which proceed more widely in act and do not cease where you have proposed.

7 Hominum utique dilectus habendus est, an digni sint quibus partern uitae nostrae impendamus, an ad illos temporis nostri iactura perueniat: quidam enim ultro officia nobis nostra imputant.

7 A selection of men must certainly be made, whether they are worthy on whom we expend a part of our life, whether the waste of our time should come to them: for some, of their own accord, impute to us our very services.

8 Athenodorus ait ne ad cenam quidem se iturum ad eum qui sibi nihil pro hoc debiturus sit. Puto, intellegis multo minus ad eos iturum qui cum amicorum officiis paria mensa faciunt, qui fericula pro congiariis numerant, quasi in alienum honorem intemperantes sint. Deme illis testes spectatoresque, non delectabit popina secreta....

8 Athenodorus says that he would not go even to dinner to someone who will owe him nothing in return for this. I think you understand he would go much less to those who make their table a parity with the offices of friends, who count courses as donatives, as if they were intemperate in another’s honor. Take away from them witnesses and spectators, a secret eating-house will not delight them....

VII.

1 Nihil tamen aeque oblectaucrit animum quam amicitia fidelis et dulcis. Quantum bonum est, ubi praeparata sunt pectora in quae tuto secretum omne descendat, quorum conscientiam minus quam tuam timeas, quorum sermo sollicitudinem leniat, sententia consilium expediat, hilaritas tristitiam dissipet, conspectus ipse delectet! Quos scilicet uacuos, quantum fieri poterit, a cupiditatibus eligemus: serpunt enim uitia et in proximum quemque transiliunt et contactu nocent.

1 Nothing, however, will have equally delighted the mind as faithful and sweet friendship. What a great good it is, when hearts are prepared into which every secret may safely descend, whose conscience you would fear less than your own, whose speech soothes solicitude, whose judgment expedites counsel, whose cheerfulness dissipates sadness, whose very sight delights! Whom, of course, we shall choose empty, as far as can be, from cupidity: for vices creep and leap over into each nearest person and harm by contact.

2 Itaque, ut in pestilentia curandum est ne correptis iam corporibus et morbo flagrantibus assideamus, quia pericula trahemus afflatuque ipso laborabimus, ita in amicorum legendis ingeniis dabimus operam ut quam minime inquinatos assumamus: initium morbi est aegris sana miscere. Nec hoc praeceperim tibi, ut neminem nisi sapientem sequaris aut attrahas: ubi enim istum inuenies, quem tot saeculis quaerimus? Pro optimo est minime malus.

2 Therefore, as in a pestilence it must be taken care that we do not sit beside bodies already seized and blazing with disease, because we will draw dangers and by the very breath we will suffer, so in selecting the dispositions of friends we will take pains to take up those as little contaminated as possible: the beginning of disease is to mix the healthy with the sick. Nor would I prescribe this to you, that you follow or draw to yourself no one except a wise man: for where will you find that one whom we have been seeking for so many ages? The least bad passes for the best.

3 Vix tibi esset facultas dilectus felicioris, si inter Platonas et Xenophontas et illum Socratici fetus prouentum bonos quaereres, aut si tibi potestas Catonianae fieret actatis, quae plerosque dignos tulit qui Catonis saeculo nascerentur (sicut multos peiores quam umquam alias maximorumque molitores scelerum; utraque enim turba opus erat, ut Cato posset intellegi: habere debuit et bonos, quibus se approbaret, et malos, in quibus uim suam experiretur). Nunc uero, in tanta bonorum egestate, minus fastidiosa fiat electio.

3 You would scarcely have the faculty of a happier selection, if among the Platos and Xenophons and that
produce of Socratic offspring you were seeking good men, or if there should be granted to you the power of the Catonian
age, which bore very many worthy to be born in Cato’s time (as it [bore] many worse than ever otherwise and contrivers of the
greatest crimes; for both throngs were needed, that Cato might be understood: he ought to have both good men, by whom he
might approve himself, and bad men, on whom he might test his force). Now indeed, in so great a poverty of good men, let the
choice be made less fastidious.

4 Praecipue tamen uitentur tristes et omnia deplorantes, quibus nulla non causa in querellas placet. Constet illi licet fides et beneuolentia, tranquillitati tamen inimicus est comes perturbatus et omnia gemens.

4 Yet let the gloomy and those deploring everything be especially avoided, for whom every occasion for complaints is pleasing. Granted that fidelity and benevolence stand firm in him, nevertheless a perturbed companion, groaning over everything, is an enemy to tranquillity.

VIII.

1 Transeamus ad patrimonia, maximam humanarum aerumnarum materiam. Nam, si omnia alia quibus angimur compares, mortes, aegrotationes, metus, desideria, dolorum laborumque patientiam, cum iis quae nobis mala pecunia nostra exhibet, haec pars multum praegrauabit.

1 Let us pass to patrimonies, the greatest material of human miseries. For, if you compare all the other things by which we are tormented, deaths, illnesses, fears, desires, the patience of pains and labors, with those bad things which our own money exhibits to us, this part will far preponderate.

2 Itaque cogitandum est quanto leuior dolor sit non habere quam perdere, et intellegemus paupertati eo minorem tormentorum quo minorem damnorum esse materiam. Erras enim si putas animosius detrimenta diuites ferre: maximis minimisque corporibus par est dolor uulneris.

2 Therefore it must be considered how much lighter the pain is not to have than to lose, and we shall understand that poverty has so much the fewer torments as the material of losses is less. You err, for if you think the wealthy bear detriments more spiritedly: to the greatest and the smallest bodies the pain of a wound is equal.

3 Bion eleganter ait non minus molestum esse caluis quam comatis pilos uelli. Idem scias licet de pauperibus locupletibusque, par illis esse tormentum: utrique enim pecunia sua obhaesit nec sine sensu reuelli potest. Tolerabilius autem est, ut dixi, faciliusque non adquirere quam amittere, ideoque laetiores uidebis quos numquam fortuna respexit quam quos deseruit.

3 Bion said elegantly that it is no less troublesome for the bald than for the long‑haired to have hairs plucked. Likewise you may know the same about the poor and the wealthy: the torment is equal for them; for to each his own money has stuck fast and cannot be torn away without sensation. Yet, as I said, it is more tolerable and easier not to acquire than to lose; and so you will see merrier those whom Fortune has never looked upon than those whom she has deserted.

4 Vidit hoc Diogenes, uir ingentis animi, et effecit ne quid sibi eripi posset. Tu istud paupertatem, inopiam, egestatem uoca, quod uoles ignominiosum securitati nomen impone: putabo hunc non esse felicem, si quem mihi alium inueneris cui nihil pereat. Aut ego fallor, aut regnum est inter auaros, circumscriptores, latrones, plagiarios unum esse cui noceri non possit.

4 Diogenes, a man of immense spirit, saw this, and he brought it about that nothing could be snatched from him. You call that poverty, indigence, destitution—impose whatever ignominious name you please upon security: I will reckon this man not happy, if you can find me any other for whom nothing perishes. Either I am mistaken, or it is kingship, amid the avaricious, the defrauders, the brigands, the plagiaries (kidnappers), to be the one who cannot be harmed.

5 Si quis de felicitate Diogenis dubitat, potest idem dubitare et de deorum immortalium statu, an parum beate degant quod nec praedia nec horti sint nec alieno colono rura pretiosa nec grande in foro faenus. Non te pudet, quisquis diuitiis astupes? Respice agedum mundum: nudos uidebis deos, omnia dantes, nihil habentes.

5 If anyone doubts the felicity of Diogenes, he can likewise doubt also about the status of the immortal gods, whether they live not very blessedly because there are neither estates nor gardens, nor costly fields with another as tenant-farmer, nor great usury in the forum. Are you not ashamed, whoever gapes at riches? Look then upon the world: you will see the gods naked, giving all things, possessing nothing.

Hunc tu pauperem putas an diis immortalibus similem, qui se fortuitis omnibus exuit?

Do you think this man poor,
or similar to the immortal gods, who has stripped himself of all fortuitous things?

6 Feliciorem tu Demetrium Pompeianum uocas, quem non puduit locupletiorem esse Pompeio? Numerus illi cotidie seruorum uelut imperatori exercitus referebatur, cui iamdudum diuitiae esse debuerant duo uicarii et cella laxior.

6 Do you call Demetrius the Pompeian happier, whom it did not shame to be richer than Pompey? The number of his slaves was reported to him daily as an army to a general, for whom long since wealth ought to have been two vicarii and a more spacious cell.

7 At Diogeni seruus unicus fugit nec eum reducere, cum monstraretur, tanti putauit: "Turpe est, inquit, Manen sine Diogene posse uiuere, Diogenen sine Mane non posse." Videtur mihi dixisse: "Age tuum negotium, Fortuna, nihil apud Diogenen iam tui est: fugit mihi seruus, immo liber abii."

7 But Diogenes’s sole slave ran away, and he did not reckon it worth so much to bring him back, even when he was pointed out: "It is shameful," he says, "that Manes can live without Diogenes, and that Diogenes cannot live without Manes." It seems to me he said: "Mind your own business, Fortune; nothing of yours is now with Diogenes: my slave has fled—nay rather, I departed free."

8 Familia petit uestiarium uictumque; tot uentres auidissimorum animalium tuendi sunt, emenda uestis et custodiendae rapacissimae manus et flentium detestantiumque ministeriis utendum. Quanto ille felicior, qui nihil ulli debet nisi cui facillime negat, sibi!

8 The household demands vestiary and victuals; so many bellies of the most avid animals are to be maintained, clothing is to be bought, and the most rapacious hands are to be guarded, and one must make use of the ministries of those weeping and detesting. How much happier is that man who owes nothing to anyone, except to himself—to whom he most easily says no!

9 Sed, quoniam non est nobis tantum roboris, angustanda certe sunt patrimonia, ut minus ad iniurias fortunae simus expositi. Habiliora sunt corpora in bello quae in arma sua contrahi possunt quam quae superfunduntur et undique magnitudo sua uulneribus obicit; optimus pecuniae modus est, qui nec in paupertatem cadit lice procul a paupertate discedit.

9 But, since we do not have so much robustness, our patrimonies must certainly be narrowed, so that we may be less exposed to the injuries of Fortune. More serviceable are bodies in war which can be drawn together within their own arms than those which spill over and on every side their own magnitude exposes them to wounds; the best measure of money is that which neither falls into poverty nor departs far from poverty.

IX.

1 Placebit autem haec nobis mensura si prius parsimonia placuerit, sine qua nec ullae opes sufficiunt nec ullae non satis patent, praesertim cum in uicino remedium sit et possit ipsa paupertas in diuitias se, aduocata frugalitate, conuertere.

1 However, this measure will be pleasing to us, if first parsimony has pleased, without which neither do any resources suffice nor are any not found too scant, especially since the remedy is at hand and poverty itself, with frugality called in, can convert itself into riches.

2 Assuescamus a nobis remouere pompam et usus rerum, non ornamenta metiri. Cibus famem domet, potio sitim, libido qua necesse est fluat. Discamus membris nostris inniti, cultum uictumque non ad noua exempla componere, sed ut maiorum mores suadent.

2 Let us become accustomed to remove from ourselves pomp and to measure the uses of things, not the ornaments. Let food subdue hunger, drink thirst; let libido flow where it is necessary. Let us learn to lean on our own limbs, to arrange dress and diet not according to new exemplars, but as the mores of the ancestors recommend.

Discamus continentiam augere, luxuriam coercere, gloriam temperare, iracundiam lenire, paupertatem aequis oculis aspicere, frugalitatem colere, etiam si multos pudebit rei eius, desideriis naturalibus paruo parata remedia adhibere, spes effrenatas et animum in futura imminentem uelut sub uinculis habere, id agere, ut diuitias a nobis potius quam a fortuna petamus.

Let us learn to increase continence,
to coerce luxury, to temper glory, to assuage irascibility, to look upon poverty with level eyes,
to cultivate frugality, even if many will be ashamed of that very thing; to apply remedies prepared at little cost to natural desires,
to hold unbridled hopes and a mind bent toward things to come as if under chains,
to bring it about that we seek riches from ourselves rather than from Fortune.

3 Non potest umquam tanta uarietas et iniquitas casuum ita depelli, ut non multum procellarum irruat magna armamenta pandentibus. Cogendae in artum res sunt, ut tela in uanum cadant, ideoque exsilia interim calamitatesque in remedium cessere et leuioribus incommodis grauiora sanata sunt. Vbi parum audit praecepta animus nec curari mollius potest, quidni consulatur, si et paupertas et ignominia et rerum euersio adhibetur?

3 Never can so great a variety and iniquity of chances be so driven off that many tempests do not rush upon those who spread wide great rigging. Things must be constrained into narrowness, so that the missiles fall into emptiness; and thus exiles and calamities have for the time turned into a remedy, and by lighter incommodities graver ills have been healed. Where the mind gives too little ear to precepts and cannot be treated more mildly, why should it not be treated, if poverty and ignominy and the overthrow of affairs are applied?

Malo malum opponitur. Assuescamus ergo cenare posse sine populo et seruis paucioribus seruire et uestes parare in quod inuentae sunt et habitare contractius. Non in cursu tantum circique certamine, sed in his spatiis uitae interius flectendum est.

An evil is opposed to an evil. Let us grow accustomed, then, to be able to dine without a crowd and to be served by fewer servants,
to prepare garments for that for which they were invented, and to dwell more contractedly. Not only in running and in the contest of the circus,
but in these spaces of life it is inward that the bending must be.

4 Studiorum quoque, quae liberalissima impensa est, tamdiu rationem habet quamdiu modum. Quo innumerabiles libros et bibliothecas, quarum dominus uix tota uita indices perlegit? Onerat discentem turba, non instruit, multoque satius est paucis te auctoribus tradere quam errare per multos.

4 Studies too, which are the most liberal expenditure, have a rationale only so long as they have a measure. To what end are innumerable books and libraries, whose owner scarcely in his whole life reads through the catalogues? A crowd burdens the learner; it does not instruct, and it is far better to commit yourself to a few authors than to wander through many.

5 Quadraginta milia librorum Alexandriae arserunt. Pulcherrimum regiae opulentiae monumentum alius laudauerit, sicut et Liuius, qui elegantiae regum curaeque egregium id opus ait fuisse. Non fuit elegantia illud aut cura, sed studiosa luxuria, immo ne studiosa quidem, quoniam non in studium, sed in spectaculum comparauerant, sicut plerisque ignaris etiam puerilium litterarum libri non studiorum instrumenta, sed cenationum ornamenta sunt.

5 Forty thousand books at Alexandria burned. The most beautiful monument of royal opulence someone else may praise, as also Livy, who said that work had been a distinguished proof of the kings’ elegance and care. It was not elegance nor care, but studied luxury—nay, not even studied, since they had assembled it not for study, but for spectacle, just as for many, ignorant even of elementary letters, books are not instruments of studies, but ornaments of dining rooms.

Paretur itaque librorum quantum satis sit, nihil in apparatum.

Therefore let as many books be procured as may suffice, nothing for display.

6 (Honestius, inquis, huc se impensae quam in Corinthia pictasque tabulas effuderint.) Vitiosum est ubique quod nimium est. Quid habes cur ignoscas homini armaria e citro atque ebore captanti, corpora conquirenti aut ignotorum auctorum aut improbatorum et inter tot milia librorum oscitanti, cui uoluminum suorum frontes maxime placent titulique?

6 (More honorably, you say, that the expenses should have been poured out here rather than into Corinthian ware and painted panels.) What is excessive is vicious everywhere. What reason have you to pardon a man grasping after bookcases of citrus-wood and ivory, collecting the corpora either of unknown authors or of those disapproved, and yawning amid so many thousands of books, to whom the fronts of his volumes and their titles are what most please?

7 Apud desidiosissimos ergo uidebis quicquid orationum historiarumque est, tecto tenus exstructa loculamenta: iam enim, inter balnearia et thermas, bibliotheca quoque ut necessarium domus ornamentum expolitur. Ignoscerem plane, si studiorum nimia cupidine erraretur; nunc ista conquisita, cum imaginibus suis discripta, sacrorum opera ingeniorum in speciem et cultum parietum comparantur.

7 Among the most slothful therefore you will see whatever there is of orations and histories, built up to the ceiling cases: for now, among the bath-rooms and the thermae, the library too, as a necessary ornament of the house, is being polished. I would plainly excuse it, if one were erring through an excessive desire for studies; as it is, these things, hunted up, arrayed with their images, the sacred works of geniuses are procured for the show and adornment of the walls.

10.

1 At in aliquod genus uitae difficile incidisti et tibi ignoranti uel publica fortuna uel priuata laqueum impegit, quem nec soluere possis nec rumpere. Cogita compeditos primo aegre ferre onera et impedimenta crurum; deinde, ubi non indignari illa, sed pati proposuerunt, necessitas fortiter ferre docet, consuetudo facile. Inuenies in quolibet genere uitae oblectamenta et remissiones et uoluptates, si uolueris mala putare leuia potius quam inuidiosa facere.

1 But you have fallen into some difficult kind of life, and, while you were unaware, either public fortune or private has thrust a noose upon you, which you can neither loosen nor break. Consider that those in fetters at first bear the burdens and the impediments of their legs with difficulty; then, when they have resolved not to be indignant at them but to endure, necessity teaches to bear them bravely, habit to bear them easily. You will find in any kind of life oblectations and remissions and voluptuities, if you will to reckon evils as light rather than to make them invidious.

2 Nullo melius nomine de nobis natura meruit, quae, cum sciret quibus aerumnis nasceremur, calamitatum mollimentum consuetudinem inuenit, cito in familiaritatem grauissima adducens. Nemo duraret, si rerum aduersarum eandem uim assiduitas haberet quam primus ictus.

2 By no better title has nature merited from us, which, since she knew with what hardships we would be born, found consuetude as a mollification of calamities, quickly leading the most grievous things into familiarity. No one would endure, if the assiduity of adverse things had the same force as the first blow.

3 Omnes cum fortuna copulati sumus: aliorum aurea catena est ac laxa, aliorum arta et sordida, sed quid refert? Eadem custodia uniuersos circumdedit alligatique sunt etiam qui alligauerunt, nisi forte tu leuiorem in sinistra catenam putas. Alium honores, alium opes uinciunt; quosdam nobilitas, quosdam humilitas premit; quibusdam aliena supra caput imperia sunt, quibusdam sua; quosdam exsilia uno loco tenent, quosdam sacerdotia.

3 We are all coupled with Fortune: for some the chain is golden and lax, for others tight and sordid; but what does it matter? The same custody has surrounded all in general, and even those who have bound are bound, unless perhaps you suppose the chain lighter on the left hand. One man honors bind, another wealth; some nobility presses, others lowliness; for some there are others’ commands above the head, for others their own; some exiles hold in one place, others priesthoods.

Omnis uita seruitium est.

All life is servitude.

4 Assuescendum est itaque condicioni suae et quam minimum de illa querendum et quicquid habet circa se commodi apprehendendum: nihil tam acerbum est, in quo non aequus animus solacium inueniat. Exiguae saepe areae in multos usus discribentis arte patuerunt, et quamuis angustum pedem dispositio fecit habitabilem. Adhibe rationem difficultatibus: possunt et dura molliri et angusta laxari et grauia scite ferentes minus premere.

4 One must therefore become accustomed to one’s condition, and complain of it as little as possible, and seize whatever of convenience it has around it: nothing is so bitter that an equable mind does not find solace in it. Exiguous areas have often, by the art of an apportioner, been opened up for many uses, and arrangement has made even a narrow footing habitable. Apply reason to difficulties: hard things can be mollified, narrow things loosened, and heavy burdens, skillfully borne, press less.

5 Non sunt praeterea cupiditates in longinquum mittendae, sed in uicinum illis egredi permittamus, quoniam includi ex toto non patiuntur. Relictis iis quae aut non possunt fieri aut difficulter possunt, prope posita speique nostrae alludentia sequamur, sed sciamus omnia aeque leuia esse, extrinsecus diuersas facies habentia, introrsus pariter uana. Nec inuideamus altius stantibus: quae excelsa uidebantur praerupta sunt.

5 Desires are not, moreover, to be sent into the long distance, but let us permit them to go out into the neighboring, since they do not allow themselves to be enclosed entirely. Relinquishing those things which either cannot be done or can only with difficulty, let us follow what lies near and plays with our hope; but let us know that all things are equally light, extrinsically having diverse faces, inwardly equally vain. Nor let us envy those standing higher: the things that seemed exalted are precipitous.

6 Illi rursus quos sors iniqua in ancipiti posuit tutiores erunt superbiam detrahendo rebus per se superbis et fortunam suam quam maxime poterunt in planum deferendo. Multi quidem sunt quibus necessario haerendum sit in fastigio suo, ex quo non possunt nisi cadendo descendere; sed hoc ipsum testentur maximum onus suum esse, quod aliis graues esse cogantur, nec subleuatos se, sed suffixos. Iustitia, mansuetudine, humanitate, larga et benigna manu praeparent multa ad secundos casus praesidia, quorum spe securius pendeant.

6 Those, in turn, whom an iniquitous lot has placed on a precarious edge will be safer by detracting pride from things proud in themselves and by bringing their fortune down into the plain as far as they can. There are, indeed, many for whom it is necessary to cling to their own summit, from which they cannot descend except by falling; but let them testify this very thing, that their greatest onus is that they are compelled to be grave (burdensome) to others, and that they are not uplifted but affixed. By justice, mildness, humanity, and a liberal and benign hand, let them prepare many safeguards for prosperous circumstances, on the hope of which they may hang more securely.

7 Nihil tamen aeque nos ab his animi fluctibus uindicauerit quam semper aliquem incrementis terminum figere, nec fortunae arbitrium desinendi dare, sed ipsos multo quidem citra consistere. Sic et aliquae cupiditates animum acuent et finitae non in immensum incertumque producent.

7 Nothing, however, will have vindicated us equally from these billows of the mind as always to fix some terminus to increments, and not to give to Fortune the arbitrium of ending, but to have them themselves halt far short. Thus even certain cupidities sharpen the mind, and, being finite, will not lead forth into the boundless and the uncertain.

XI.

11.

1 Ad imperfectos et mediocres et male sanos hic meus sermo pertinet, non ad sapientem. Huic non timide nec pedetentim ambulandum est: tanta enim fiducia sui est, ut obuiam fortunae ire non dubitet nec umquam loco illi cessurus sit. Nec habet ubi illam timeat, quia non mancipia tantum possessionesque et dignitatem, sed corpus quoque suum et oculos et manum et quicquid cariorem uitam facit seque ipsum inter precaria numerat, uiuitque ut commodatus sibi et reposcentibus sine tristitia redditurus.

1 This my discourse pertains to the imperfect, the mediocre, and the unsound, not to the wise man. For him one must walk neither timidly nor step-by-step: for such is his self‑confidence that he does not hesitate to go to meet Fortune, nor will he ever yield ground to her. Nor has he any point at which to fear her, because not only slaves and possessions and dignity, but his body also and his eyes and his hand and whatever makes life more dear, and himself as well, he counts among precarious holdings, and he lives as one lent to himself and, to those demanding it back, about to return it without sadness.

2 Nec ideo uilis est sibi, quia scit se suum non esse; sed omnia tam diligenter faciet, tam circumspecte, quam religiosus homo sanctusque solet tueri fidei commissa.

2 Nor on that account is he of little value to himself, because he knows that he is not his own; but he will do all things so diligently, so circumspectly, as a religious and holy man is wont to guard the things committed to his trust.

3 Quandoque autem reddere iubebitur, non queretur cum fortuna, sed dicet: "Gratias ago pro eo quod possedi habuique. Magna quidem res tuas mercede colui, sed, quia ita imperas, do, cedo gratus libensque. Si quid habere me tui uolueris etiamnunc, seruabo; si aliud placet, ego uero factum signatumque argentum, domum familiamque meam reddo, restituo." Appellauerit natura, quae prior nobis credidit, et huic dicemus: "Recipe animum meliorem quam dedisti; non tergiuersor nec refugio.

3 Whenever he shall be ordered to give back, he will not complain with Fortune, but will say: "I give thanks for what I have possessed and held. I have indeed tended your things at great cost; but, since thus you command, I give, I cede, grateful and willing. If you should wish me still even now to have anything of yours, I will keep it; if something else pleases you, indeed I return and restore the struck and stamped silver, my house and my household." Nature will have called, who first entrusted to us, and to her we shall say: "Receive back a soul better than you gave; I do not tergiversate nor take flight.

Paratum habes a uolente quod non sentienti dedisti: aufer."

You have it ready from one willing
what you gave to one not sentient: take it away."

4 Reuerti unde ueneris quid graue est? Male uiuet quisquis nesciet bene mori. Huic itaque primum rei pretium detrahendum est et spiritus inter uilia numerandus.

4 To return whence you came—what is burdensome about that? Whoever does not know how to die well will live badly. Therefore, the price must first be stripped from this matter, and the spirit is to be numbered among cheap things.

Gladiatores, ut ait Cicero, inuisos habemus, si omni modo uitam impetrare cupiunt; fauemus, si contemptum eius prae se ferunt. Idem euenire nobis scias: saepe enim causa moriendi est timide mori.

Gladiators, as Cicero says, we hold odious if they desire to obtain life by every means; we favor them if they bear a contempt of it before them. Know that the same happens to us: for often the cause of dying is to die timidly.

5 Fortuna illa, quae ludos sibi facit: "Quo, inquit, te reseruem, malum et trepidum animal? Eo magis conuulneraberis et confodieris, quia nescis praebere iugulum. At tu et uiues diutius et morieris expeditius, qui ferrum non subducta ceruice nec manibus oppositis, sed animose recipis."

5 That Fortune, who makes sport for herself: "For what," she says, "shall I reserve you, you wretched and trembling animal? You will be all the more wounded and run through, because you do not know how to offer the throat. But you—who receive the steel not with neck drawn back nor with hands opposed, but spiritedly—will both live longer and die more expeditiously."

6 Qui mortem timebit, nihil umquam pro homine uiuo faciet; at qui sciet hoc sibi cum conciperetur statim condictum, uiuet ad formulam et simul illud quoque eodem animi robore praestabit, ne quid ex iis quae eueniunt subitum sit. Quicquid enim fieri potest quasi futurum sit prospiciendo malorum omnium impetus molliet, qui ad praeparatos exspectantesque nihil afferunt noui, securis et beata tantum spectantibus graues ueniunt.

6 He who will fear death will never do anything on behalf of a living human; but he who knows that this was stipulated for him as soon as he was conceived will live according to a formula, and at the same time will also, with the same robustness of spirit, ensure this too: that nothing of the things which occur be sudden. For by foreseeing whatever can happen as if it were going to happen, he will soften the impetus of all evils, which bring nothing new to those prepared and expecting, but come weighty upon the carefree and upon those looking only at blessings.

7 Morbus est, captiuitas, ruina, ignis: nihil horum repentinum est. Sciebam in quam tumultuosum me contubernium natura clusisset. Totiens in uicinia mea conclamatum est; totiens praeter limen immaturas exsequias fax cereusque praecessit; saepe a latere ruentis aedificii fragor sonuit; multos ex iis quos forum, curia, sermo mecum contraxerat, nox abstulit et iunctas sodalium manus copuatas interscidit: mirer ad me aliquando pericula accessisse, quae circa me semper errauerint?

7 Disease, captivity, ruin, fire: none of these is sudden. I knew into what tumultuous cohabitation nature had shut me. So often in my neighborhood the death-cry has been raised; so often past my threshold the torch and the wax-candle have gone before untimely exequies; often at my side the crash of a collapsing building has sounded; many of those whom the forum, the curia, conversation had drawn into fellowship with me, night has snatched away, and it has torn asunder the joined hands of comrades once coupled: should I marvel that dangers have at some time come to me, which have always hovered around me?

8 Magna pars hominum est quae nauigatura de tempestate non cogitat. Numquam me in re bona mali pudebit auctoris: Publilius, tragicis comicisque uehementior ingeniis quotiens mimicas ineptias et uerba ad summam caueam spectantia reliquit, Inter multa alia cothurno, non tantum sipario fortiora et hoc ait:

8 A great part of humankind, when about to sail, does not think about the weather. I shall never, when the thing is good, be ashamed of a bad author: Publilius, more vehement in talent than the tragic and the comic whenever he left aside mimic inanities and words that look toward the topmost gallery, among many other things more robust for the buskin, not merely for the curtain, also said this:

Cuiuis potest accidere quod cuiquam potest.

Whatever can befall someone can befall anyone.

Hoc si quis in medullas demiserit et omnia aliena mala, quorum ingens cotidie copia est, sic aspexerit tamquam liberum illis et ad se iter sit, multo ante se armabit quam petatur. Sero animus ad periculorum patientiam post pericula instruitur.

If anyone drives this into his marrow and looks upon all others’ evils—of which there is an enormous supply every day—as though there were a free road from them to himself, he will arm himself long before he is assailed. Too late is the mind instructed to the endurance of perils after the perils.

9 "Non putaui hoc futurum" et: "Vmquam tu hoc euenturum credidisses?" Quare autem non? Quae sunt diuitiae quas non egestas et fames et mendicitas a tergo sequatur? quae dignitas, cuius non praetextam et augurale et lora patricia sordes comitentur et exprobratio notae et mille maculae et extrema contemptio?

9 "I did not think this would be," and: "Would you ever have believed this would come to pass?" But why not? What riches are there that indigence and hunger and mendicity do not follow from behind? what dignity is there, whose praetexta and augural insignia and patrician straps are not accompanied by squalor and the upbraiding of a stigma and a thousand blemishes and utmost contempt?

quod regnum est, cui non parata sit ruina et proculcatio et dominus et carnifex? nec magnis ista interuallis diuisa, sed horae momentum interest inter solium et aliena genua.

what kingdom is there, for which ruin and trampling and a lord and an executioner are not prepared? nor are these separated by great intervals, but the moment of an hour stands between the throne and another’s knees.

10 Scito ergo omnem condicionem uersabilem esse et quicquid in ullum incurrit posse in te quoque incurrere. Locuples es: numquid diuitior Pompeio? Cui cum Gaius, uetus cognatus, hopes nouus, aperuisset Caesaris domum ut suam cluderet, defuit panis, aqua.

10 Know, therefore, that every condition is changeable, and that whatever befalls anyone can befall you as well. You are wealthy: are you richer than Pompey? To whom, when Gaius, an old kinsman, a new host, had opened Caesar’s house to him so that he might shut his own, bread and water were lacking.

Cum tot flumina possideret in suo orientia, in suo cadentia, mendicauit stillicidia; fame ac siti periit in palatio cognati, dum illi heres publicum funus esurienti locat.

Although he possessed so many rivers
rising on his own estate, falling on his own, he begged for drippings; he perished of hunger and thirst in the palace
of a kinsman, while for him, starving, his heir arranges a public funeral.

11 Honoribus summis functus es: numquid aut tam magnis aut tam insperatis aut tam uniuersis quam Seianus? Quo die illum senatus deduxerat, populus in frusta diuisit. In quem quicquid congeri poterat dii hominesque contulerant, ex eo nihil superfuit quod carnifex traheret.

11 You have been invested with the highest honors: were they either as great or as unexpected or as universal as those of Sejanus? On the day when the Senate had escorted him, the People divided him into fragments. Upon whom whatever could be heaped up gods and men had conferred, from him there remained nothing for the executioner to drag away.

12 Rex es: non ad Croesum te mittam, qui rogum suum et escendit iussus et exstingui uidit, factus non regno tantum, etiam morti suae superstes; non ad Iugurtham, quem populus romanus intra annum quam timuerat spectauit: Ptolemaeum Africae regem, Armeniae Mithridaten inter Gaianas custodias uidimus; alter in exsilium missus est, alter ut meliore fide mitteretur optabat. In tanta rerum sursum ac deorsum euntium uersatione, si non quicquid fieri potest pro futuro habes, das in te uires rebus aduersis, quas infregit quisquis prior uidit.

12 You are a king: I will not refer you to Croesus, who both ascended his own pyre when ordered and saw it extinguished, having become a survivor not only of his kingdom but even of his own death; nor to Jugurtha, whom the Roman people, within a year of having feared him, beheld: we have seen Ptolemy, king of Africa, and Mithridates of Armenia under Gaian custody; the one was sent into exile, the other was wishing that he be sent with better good faith. In so great a vicissitude of things going up and down, if you do not hold whatever can happen as in prospect, you lend strength against yourself to adverse circumstances, which whoever has first foreseen has broken.

XII.

12.

1 Proximum ab his erit ne aut in superuacuis aut ex superuacuo laboremus, id est ne quae aut non possumus consequi concupiscamus aut adepti uanitatem cupiditatum nostrarum sero post multum sudorem intellegamus, id est ne aut labor irritus sit sine effectu aut effectus labore indignus. Fere enim ex his tristitia sequitur, si aut non successit aut successus pudet.

1 Next after these will be, that we not toil either at superfluities or out of superfluity, that is, that we not desire things which we either cannot attain, or, having obtained them, we understand the vanity of our desires late, after much sweat, that is, that either the labor be not vain without effect or the effect not unworthy of the labor. For generally from these sadness follows, if either it has not succeeded or the success shames us.

2 Circumcidenda concursatio, qualis est magnae parti hominum domos et theatra et fora pererrantium: alienis se negotiis offerunt, semper aliquid agentibus similes. Horum si aliquem exeuntem e domo interrogaueris: "Quo tu? quid cogitas?" respondebit tibi: "Non mehercules scio, sed aliquos uidebo, aliquid agam."

2 The running-around must be cut back,
such as is that of the great part of men who roam through houses and theaters and fora: they thrust themselves into others’ affairs, always like people doing something. If you ask any one of these as he is going out of the house: "Where to? What are you planning?" he will answer you: "By Hercules, I do not know, but I shall see some people, I shall do something."

3 Sine proposito uagantur, quaerentes negotia, nec quae destinauerunt agunt, sed in quae incucurrerunt. Inconsultus illis uanusque cursus est, qualis formicis per arbusta repentibus, quae in summum cacumen et inde in imum inanes aguntur. His plerique similem uitam agunt, quorum non immerito quis inquietam inertiam dixerit.

3 They wander without a purpose, seeking business, and they do not do the things they have destined, but those into which they have stumbled. Without counsel and vain is their course, such as for ants creeping through the orchards, who are driven to the topmost summit and from there to the lowest, to no purpose. The majority live a life similar to these, of whom one could not undeservedly call it a restless inertia.

4 Quorundam quasi ad incendium currentium misereberis: usque eo impellunt obuios et se aliosque praecipitant, cum interim cucurrerunt aut salutaturi aliquem non resalutaturum aut funus ignoti hominis prosecuturi, aut ad iudicium saepe litigantis, aut ad sponsalia saepe nubentis, et lecticam assectati quibusdam locis etiam tulerunt. Dein, domum cum superuacua redeuntes lassitudine, iurant nescire se ipsos quare exierint, ubi fuerint, postero die erraturi per eadem illa uestigia.

4 You will pity certain people as if
running to a conflagration: to such a degree they shove passers-by and dash themselves and others
headlong, while meanwhile they have run either to salute someone who will not salute back, or
to escort the funeral of an unknown man, or to the court of a frequent litigant, or to
the espousals of one frequently marrying, and, having followed alongside the litter, in some places they even carried it.
Then, returning home with a superfluous weariness, they swear that they themselves do not know why
they went out, where they have been, destined on the next day to wander over those very same tracks.

5 Omnis itaque labor aliquo referatur, aliquo respiciat. Non industria inquietos, ut insanos falsae rerum imagines agitant: nam ne illi quidem sine aliqua spe mouentur; proritat illos alicuius rei species, cuius uanitatem capta mens non coarguit.

5 Therefore let every labor be referred to something, let it have regard to something. It is not industry that agitates the restless, but, as with the insane, false images of things; for not even they are moved without some hope: the appearance of some thing spurs them on, whose vanity a captured mind does not refute.

6 Eodem modo unumquemque ex his qui ad augendam turbam exeunt inanes et leues causae per urbem circumducunt, nihilque habentem in quod laboret lux orta expellit, et cum, multorum frustra liminibus illisus, nomenclatores persalutauit, a multis exclusus, neminem ex omnibus difficilius domi quam se conuenit.

6 In the same way empty and light causes lead around each one of those who go out to augment the throng through the city, and, having nothing on which to labor, the risen light drives him out, and when, having been dashed in vain against the thresholds of many, he has greeted the nomenclators thoroughly, shut out by many, he meets no one among all more difficult to find at home than himself.

7 Ex hoc malo dependet illud taeterrimum uitium, auscultatio et publicorum secretorumque inquisitio, et multarum rerum scientia quae nec tuto narrantur nec tuto audiuntur.

7 From this evil depends that most foul vice, eavesdropping and the inquisition of public and secret matters, and a knowledge of many things which are not safely narrated nor safely heard.

XIII.

13.

1 Hoc secutum puto Democritum ita coepisse: "Qui tranquille uolet uiuere nec priuatim agat multa nec publice", ad superuacua scilicet referentem: nam, si necessaria sunt, et priuatim et publice non tantum multa, sed innumerabilia agenda sunt, ubi uero nullum officium sollemne nos citat, inhibendae actiones.

1 Following this I think Democritus began in this way: "He who will wish to live tranquilly should neither do many things in private nor in public," evidently referring this to superfluous things: for, if they are necessary, both privately and publicly not only many things, but innumerable things must be done; but where no solemn duty cites us, actions are to be inhibited.

2 Nam qui multa agit saepe fortunae potestatem sui facit; quam tutissimum est raro experiri, ceterum semper de illa cogitare et nihil sibi de fide eius promittere: "Nauigabo, nisi si quid inciderit" et: "Praetor fiam, nisi si quid obstiterit" et: "Negotiatio mihi respondebit, nisi si quid interuenerit."

2 For he who does many things often puts himself under the power of Fortune; it is safest to test her rarely, moreover always to think about her and to promise himself nothing on her credit: "I shall sail, unless something should occur," and: "I shall be praetor, unless something should stand in the way," and: "My business will answer for me, unless something should intervene."

3 Hoc est quare sapienti nihil contra opinionem dicamus accidere: non illum casibus hominum excerpimus, sed erroribus, nec illi omnia ut uoluit cedunt, sed ut cogitauit. Imprimis autem cogitauit aliquid posse propositis suis resistere. Necesse est autem leuius ad animum peruenire destitutae cupiditatis dolorem, cui successum non utique promiseris.

3 This is why we say that nothing happens to the wise man against expectation: we do not except him from the accidents of men, but from errors; nor do all things yield to him as he wished, but as he has thought. First of all, moreover, he has thought that something can resist his proposals. It is necessary, moreover, that the pain of a desire left disappointed should reach the mind more lightly, whose success you have not, in any case, promised.

XIV.

14.

1 Faciles etiam nos facere debemus, ne nimis destinatis rebus indulgeamus, transeamusque in ea in quae nos casus deduxerit, nec mutationem aut consilii aut status pertimescamus, dummodo nos leuitas, inimicissimum quieti uitium, non excipiat. Nam et pertinacia necesse est anxia et misera sit, cui fortuna saepe aliquid extorquet, et leuitas multo grauior, nusquam se continens. Vtrumque infestum est tranquillitati, et nihil mutare posse et nihil pati.

1 We ought also to make ourselves pliant, lest we overindulge in things we have fixed, and let us pass over into those into which chance shall have led us, nor let us dread a change either of plan or of status, provided that levity, the vice most inimical to quiet, does not overtake us. For obstinacy must needs be anxious and wretched, from whom Fortune often extorts something, and levity is much graver, keeping itself nowhere. Each is hostile to tranquility, both to be able to change nothing and to be able to endure nothing.

2 Vtique animus ab omnibus externis in se reuocandus est: sibi confidat, se gaudeat, sua suspiciat, recedat quantum potest ab alienis, et se sibi applicet; damna non sentiat, etiam aduersa benigne interpretetur.

2 By all means let the mind be called back from all externals into itself: let it trust itself, let it rejoice in itself, let it esteem its own, let it withdraw as far as it can from what is alien, and apply itself to itself; let it not feel losses, let it even interpret adversities benignly.

3 Nuntiato naufragio, Zenon noster, cum omnia sua audiret submersa: "Iubet, inquit, me fortuna expeditius philosophari." Minabatur Theodoro philosopho tyrannus mortem, et quidem insepultam: "Habes, inquit, cur tibi placeas, hemina sanguinis in tua potestate est; nam quod ad sepulturam pertinet, o te ineptum, si putas mea interesse supra terram an infra putrescam."

3 With the shipwreck announced, our Zeno, when he heard that all his belongings had been submerged: “Fortune,” he said, “bids me to philosophize more unencumbered.” A tyrant was menacing the philosopher Theodorus with death, and indeed without sepulture: “You have,” he said, “a reason to be pleased with yourself; a hemina of blood (a half‑pint) is in your power; for as pertains to sepulture, O you inept one, if you think it concerns me whether I putrefy above the earth or below.”

4 Canus Iulius, uir in primis magnus, cuius admirationi ne hoc quidem obstat quod nostro saeculo natus est, cum Gaio diu altercatus, postquam abeunti Phalaris ille dixit: "Ne forte inepta spe tibi blandiaris, duci te iussi. Gratias, inquit, ago, optime princeps."

4 Julius Canus, a man great among the foremost, whose admirability not even this hinders, that he was born in our age, after long altercating with Gaius, after that Phalaris, as he was departing, said: "Lest perchance you flatter yourself with inept hope, I have ordered you to be led away. 'I give thanks,' said he, 'best princeps.'"

5 Quid senserit dubito; multa enim mihi occurrunt. Contumeliosus esse uoluit et ostendere quanta crudelitas esset, in qua mors beneficium erat? An exprobrauit illi cotidianam dementiam?

5 I doubt what he felt; for many things occur to me. Did he wish to be contumelious and to show how great the cruelty was, in which death was a benefit? Or did he exprobrate him for his quotidian dementia?

Agebant enim gratias et quorum liberi occisi et quorum bona ablata erant. An tamquam libertatem libenter accepit? Quicquid est, magno animo respondit.

For they were giving thanks, even those whose children had been slain and whose goods had been taken away. Or did he accept it willingly, as though it were liberty? Whatever it is, he answered magnanimously.

6 Dicet aliquis: potuit post hoc iubere illum Gaius uiuere. Non timuit hoc Canus: nota erat Gaii in talibus imperiis fides. Credisne illum decem medios usque ad supplicium dies sine ulla sollicitudine exegisse?

6 Someone will say: after this Gaius could have ordered that man to live. Canus did not fear
this: Gaius’s faith in such commands was known. Do you believe that he spent the ten intervening
days up to the execution without any solicitude?

Verisimile non est quae uir ille dixerit, quae fecerit, quam in tranquillo fuerit.

It is not plausible what that man said, what he did, how tranquil he was.

7 Ludebat latrunculis. Cum centurio, agmen periturorum trahens, illum quoque excitari iuberet, uocatus numerauit calculos et sodali suo: "Vide, inquit, ne post mortem meam mentiaris te uicisse." Tum, annuens centurioni: "Testis, inquit, eris uno me antecedere." Lusisse tu Canum illa tabula putas? Illusit.

7 He was playing at latrunculi. When the centurion, leading the column of the doomed, ordered that he too be summoned, when called he counted the counters (calculi) and said to his comrade: "See to it," he said, "that after my death you do not lie that you have won." Then, nodding to the centurion: "You will be," he said, "a witness that I am ahead by one." Do you think Canus played on that board? He made sport of it.

8 Tristes erant amici, talem amissuri uirum: "Quid maesti, inquit, estis? Vos quaeritis an immortales animae sint; ego iam sciam." Nec desiit ueritatem in ipso fine scrutari et ex morte sua quaestionem habere.

8 His friends were sad, about to lose such a man: "Why are you sad?" he said. "You seek whether souls are immortal; I now shall know." Nor did he cease to scrutinize the truth at the very end and to make his own death a subject of inquiry.

9 Prosequebatur illum philosophus suus, nec iam procul erat tumulus in quo Caesari deo nostro fiebat cotidianum sacrum. Is: "Quid, inquit, Cane, nunc cogitas? aut quae tibi mens est?

9 His philosopher was accompanying him, and now the tumulus was not far off, on
which a quotidian sacred rite was being performed to Caesar, our god. He said: "What,
Canus, are you thinking now? or what is your disposition?"

- Obseruare, inquit Canus, proposui illo ue1ocissimo momento an sensurus sit animus exire se." Promisitque, si quid explorasset, circumiturum amicos et indicaturum quis esset animarum status.

- To observe, said Canus, I have proposed in that most rapid moment whether the soul will sense itself going out. And he promised that, if he had ascertained anything, he would go around to his friends and indicate what the status of souls was.

10 Ecce in media tempestate tranquillitas, ecce animus aeternitate dignus, qui fatum suum in argumentum ueri uocat, qui, in ultimo illo gradu positus, exeuntem animam percontatur, nec usque ad mortem tantum, sed aliquid etiam ex ipsa morte discit: nemo diutius philosophatus est. Non raptim relinquetur magnus uir et cum cura dicendus: dabimus te in omnem memoriam, clarissimum caput, Gaianae cladis magna portio!

10 Behold, in the midst of the tempest, tranquility; behold a spirit worthy of eternity, who calls his fate as an argument of truth, who, placed upon that ultimate step, questions his departing soul, and learns not only up to death, but even something from death itself: no one has philosophized longer. The great man will not be left in haste and must be spoken of with care: we shall consign you to everlasting remembrance, most illustrious head, a great portion of the Gaian calamity!

XV.

15.

1 Sed nihil prodest priuatae tristitiae causas abiecisse: occupat enim nonnumquam odium generis humani, et occurrit tot scelerum felicium turba. Cum cogitaueris quam sit rara simplicitas et quam ignota innocentia et uix umquam, nisi cum expedit, fides, et libidinis lucra damnaque pariter inuisa, et ambitio usque eo iam se suis non continens terminis ut per turpitudinem splendeat, agitur animus in noctem et, uelut euersis uirtutibus, quas nec sperare licet nec habere prodest, tenebrae oboriuntur.

1 But it is of no profit to have cast away the causes of private sadness: for sometimes a hatred of the human race takes hold, and the throng of so many successful crimes meets us. When you have considered how rare simplicity is and how unknown innocence, and how faith scarcely ever, unless when it is expedient, and how the gains and losses of lust are equally odious, and how ambition now no longer contains itself within its own boundaries to such a degree that it shines through turpitude, the mind is driven into night, and, as if the virtues were overturned, which neither is it permitted to hope for nor is it of use to possess, darkness arises.

2 In hoc itaque flectendi sumus, ut omnia uulgi uitia non inuisa nobis, sed ridicula uideantur, et Democritum potius imitemur quam Heraclitum: hic enim, quotiens in publicum processerat, flebat, ille ridebat; huic omnia quae agimus miseriae, illi ineptiae uidebantur. Eleuanda ergo omnia et facili animo ferenda: humanius est deridere uitam quam deplorare.

2 In this, therefore, we must be inclined, that all the vices of the vulgar appear to us not hateful, but laughable, and that we imitate Democritus rather than Heraclitus: for the latter, whenever he had gone forth into the public, wept, the former laughed; to this one all the things we do seemed miseries, to that one ineptitudes. Therefore everything is to be lightened and borne with an easy spirit: it is more humane to deride life than to deplore it.

3 Adice quod de humano quoque genere melius meretur qui ridet illud quam qui luget: ille et spei bonae aliquid relinquit, hic autem stulte deflet quae corrigi posse desperat; et uniuersa contemplanti maioris animi est qui risum non tenet quam qui lacrimas, quando leuissimum affectum animi mouet et nihil magnum, nihil seuerum, ne miserum quidem ex tanto paratu putat.

3 Add this, too, that he also merits better of the human race who laughs at it than he who laments it: the former even leaves something to good hope, while the latter foolishly bewails things which he despairs can be corrected; and to one contemplating the whole, it is of a greater mind not to restrain laughter than to restrain tears, since he stirs the lightest affection of the mind and thinks nothing great, nothing severe—nay, not even miserable—from so great an array.

4 Singula propter quae laeti ac tristes sumus sibi quisque proponat, et sciet uerum esse quod Bion dixit, omnia hominum negotia simillima initiis esse nec uitam illorum magis sanctam aut seueram esse quam conceptum.

4 Let each person set before himself the individual things on account of which we are joyful and sad, and he will know it true, what Bion said: that all the affairs of men are most similar to initiations, and that their life is no more sacred or severe than their conception.

5 Sed satius est publicos mores et humana uitia placide accipere, nec in risum nec in lacrimas excidentem; nam alienis malis torqueri aeterna miseria est, alienis delectari malis uoluptas inhumana.

5 But it is preferable to accept public morals and human vices placidly, falling into neither laughter nor tears; for to be tormented by others’ ills is eternal misery, to be delighted by others’ ills is an inhuman pleasure.

6 Sicut est illa inutilis humanitas, flere, quia aliquis filium efferat, et frontem suam fingere, in suis quoque malis ita gerere se oportet, ut dolori tantum des quantum natura poscit, non quantum consuetudo. Plerique cum lacrimas fundunt ut ostendant, et totiens siccos oculos habent quotiens spectator defuit, turpe iudicantes non fiere cum omnes faciant: adeo penitus hoc se malum fixit, ex aliena opinione pendere, ut in simulationem etiam res simplicissima, dolor, ueniat.

6 Just as there is that useless “humanity,” to weep because someone carries out his son for burial, and to feign one’s countenance, so also in one’s own misfortunes one ought to conduct oneself in such a way as to grant to grief only as much as nature demands, not as much as custom. Most people pour out tears in order to show off, and they have dry eyes as often as a spectator is lacking, judging it shameful not to weep when everyone does: so deeply has this evil fixed itself—of hanging upon another’s opinion—that even the simplest thing, grief, comes into simulation.

XVI.

16.

1 Sequetur pars quae solet non immerito contristare et in sollicitudinem adducere. Vbi bonorum exitus mali sunt, ubi Socrates cogitur in carcere mori, Rutilius in exsilio uiuere, Pompeius et Cicero clientibus suis praebere ceruicem, Cato ille, uirtutum uiua imago, incumbens gladio, simul de se ac de re publica palam facere, necesse est torqueri tam iniqua praemia fortunam persoluere. Et quid sibi quisque tunc speret, cum uideat pessima optimos pati?

1 There will follow a part which is accustomed, not undeservedly, to sadden and to bring into solicitude. Where the outcomes of good men are evil, where Socrates is compelled to die in prison, Rutilius to live in exile, Pompey and Cicero to offer the neck to their own clients, that Cato, the living image of virtues, bending over the sword, to make it plain at once concerning himself and concerning the republic, it is inevitable to be wrung that Fortune pays out such iniquitous rewards. And what should each man then hope for himself, when he sees the best suffer the worst?

2 Quid ergo est? Vide quomodo quisque illorum tulerit et, si fortes fuerunt, ipsorum illos animo desidera, si muliebriter et ignaue perierunt, nihil periit. Aut digni sunt quorum uirtus tibi placeat, aut indigni quorum desideretur ignauia.

2 What then? See how each of them bore it, and, if they were brave, desire them in their own spirit; if they perished womanishly and cravenly, nothing has perished. Either they are worthy, whose virtue should please you, or unworthy, of whom it would be only the cowardice that is missed.

Quid enim est turpius quam si maximi uiri timidos fortiter moriendo faciunt?

For what is more disgraceful than if the greatest men, by dying bravely, make the timid brave?

3 Laudemus totiens dignum laudibus et dicamus: "Tanto fortior! tanto felicior! Omnes effugisti casus, liuorem, morbum; existi ex custodia; non tu dignus mala fortuna diis nisus es, sed indignus in quem iam aliquid fortuna posset." Subducentibus uero se et in ipsa morte ad uitam respectantibus manus iniciendae sunt.

3 Let us praise, so often, one worthy of praises and let us say: "So much the stronger! so much the happier! You have escaped all chances, envy, sickness; you have come out of custody; it is not that you, worthy of ill Fortune, have contended with the gods, but that you are unworthy—one over whom Fortune could now have any power." But upon those who draw themselves away and, in death itself, look back toward life, hands must be laid.

4 Neminem flebo laetum, neminem flentem: ille lacrimas meas ipse abstersit, hic suis lacrimis effecit ne ullis dignus sit. Ego Herculem fleam quod uiuus uritur, aut Regulum quod tot clauis configitur, aut Catonem quod uulnera iterat sua? Omnes isti leui temporis impensa inuenerunt quomodo aeterni fierent, et ad immortalitatem moriendo uenerunt.

4 I will weep for no one rejoicing, for no one weeping: that man has himself wiped away my tears; this man by his own tears has made it so that he is worthy of none. Shall I weep for Hercules because he alive is being burned, or for Regulus because he is fastened with so many nails, or for Cato because he repeats his wounds? All these men, with a light expenditure of time, found how they might become eternal, and by dying they came to immortality.

XVII.

17.

1 Est et illa sollicitudinum non mediocris materia, si te anxie componas nec ullis simpliciter ostendas, qualis multorum uita est, ficta, ostentationi parata: torquet enim assidua obseruatio sui et deprehendi aliter ac solet metuit. Nec umquam cura soluimur, ubi totiens nos aestimari putamus quotiens aspici. Nam et multa incidunt quae inuitos denudant, et, ut bene cedat tanta sui diligentia, non tamen iucunda uita aut secura est semper sub persona uiuentium.

1 There is also that no small matter of solicitudes, if you anxiously compose yourself and do not simply display yourself, as is the life of many—feigned, prepared for ostentation: for continual self-observation torments, and it fears being detected otherwise than is its wont. Nor are we ever released from care, when we suppose that we are assessed as often as we are looked at. For many things occur that lay us bare unwilling, and, even if such great diligence about oneself should turn out well, nevertheless life is not pleasant or secure for those always living under a persona.

2 At illa quantum habet uoluptatis sincera et per se inornata simplicitas, nihil obtendens moribus suis! Subit tamen et haec uita contemptus periculum, si omnia omnibus patent: sunt enim qui fastidiant quicquid propius adierunt. Sed nec uirtuti periculum est ne admota oculis reuilescat, et satius est simplicitate contemni quam perpetua simulatione torqueri.

2 But how much pleasure that sincere and in itself unadorned simplicity has, putting forward nothing as a screen for its mores! Yet even this life incurs the peril of contempt, if all things lie open to all: for there are those who feel distaste for whatever they have approached more closely. But neither is there danger for virtue that, when brought near to the eyes, it should grow stale; and it is better to be despised for simplicity than to be tortured by perpetual simulation.

Modum tamen rei adhibeamus: multum interest, simpliciter uiuas an neglegenter.

Nevertheless, let us apply a measure to the matter: it makes much difference, whether you live simply or negligently.

3 Multum et in se recedendum est: conuersatio enim dissimilium bene composita disturbat et renouat affectus et quicquid imbecillum in animo nec percuratum est exulcerat. Miscenda tamen ista et alternanda sunt, solitudo et frequentia. Illa nobis faciet hominum desiderium, haec nostri, et erit altera alterius remedium: odium turbae sanabit solitudo, taedium solitudinis turba.

3 Much, too, must one withdraw into oneself: for conversation with dissimilars, even when well composed, disturbs and renews the affections, and ulcerates whatever in the mind is feeble and not thoroughly cured. Yet these must be mixed and alternated—solitude and the crowd. The former will create in us a longing for men, the latter for ourselves, and each will be the remedy of the other: solitude will heal hatred of the crowd, the crowd the weariness of solitude.

4 Nec in eadem intentione aequaliter retinenda mens est, sed ad iocos deuocanda. Cum puerulis Socrates ludere non erubescebat, et Cato uiuo laxabat animum curis publicis fatigatum, et Scipio triumphale illud ac militare corpus mouebat ad numeros, non molliter se infringens, ut nunc mos est etiam incessu ipso ultra muliebrem mollitiam fluentibus, sed ut antiqui illi uiri solebant inter lusum ac festa tempora uirilem in modum tripudiare, non facturi detrimentum etiam si ab hostibus suis spectarentur.

4 Nor is the mind to be held equally in the same intention, but to be called down to jests.
Socrates did not blush to play with little boys, and Cato with wine used to relax his spirit, wearied by public cares, and Scipio used to move that triumphal and military body to the measures, not softening himself delicately, as now is the custom, with men flowing even in their very gait beyond womanly softness, but as those ancient men were accustomed amid play and festive times to tripudiate in a manly mode, not about to incur detriment even if they were being watched by their enemies.

5 Danda est animis remissio: meliores acrioresque requieti surgent. Vt fertilibus agris non est imperandum (cito enim illos exhauriet numquam intermissa fecunditas), ita animorum impetus assiduus labor franget; uires recipient paulum resoluti et remissi. Nascitur ex assiduitate laborum animorum hebetatio quaedam et languor.

5 A remission must be given to minds: they will rise better and keener from rest. As one must not lay commands upon fertile fields (for an unremitting fecundity will quickly exhaust them), so assiduous labor will break the impetus of minds; somewhat loosened and relaxed, they will recover their strength. From the assiduity of toils there is born a certain hebetation and languor of the spirits.

6 Nec ad hoc tanta hominum cupiditas tenderet, nisi naturalem quandam uoluptatem haberet lusus iocusque. Quorum frequens usus omne animis pondus omnemque uim eripiet: nam et somnus refectioni necessarius est, hune tamen si per diem noctemque continues, mors erit. Multum interest, remittas aliquid an soluas.

6 Nor would so great a desire of men tend toward this, unless play and jest had a certain natural pleasure. The frequent use of these will snatch away from minds every weight and all force: for sleep too is necessary for restoration, yet if you continue it through day and night, it will be death. There is a great difference whether you remit something or dissolve it.

7 Legum conditores festos instituerunt dies ut ad hilaritatem homines publice cogerentur, tamquam necessarium laboribus interponentes temperamentum, et magni iudicii uiri quidam sibi menstruas certis diebus ferias dabant, quiddam nullum non diem inter otium et curas diuidebant. Qualem Pollionem Asinium oratorem magnum meminimus, quem nulla res ultra decumam detinuit: ne epistulas quidem post eam horam 1egebat, ne quid nouae curae nasceretur, sed totius diei lassitudinem duabus illis horis ponebat. Quidam medio die interiunxerunt et in postmeridianas horas aliquid leuioris operae distulerunt.

7 The founders of laws instituted festival days so that people might be publicly compelled to cheerfulness, as if inserting a tempering necessary to labors; and certain men of great judgment granted themselves monthly holidays on set days; some divided every single day between leisure and cares. Such a one we remember in Asinius Pollio, a great orator, whom nothing detained beyond the tenth hour: he did not even read letters after that hour, lest any new cares arise, but he set aside the weariness of the entire day in those two hours. Some inserted an intermission at mid‑day and deferred something of lighter work to the postmeridian hours.

Maiores quoque nostri nouam relationem post horam decumam in senatu fieri uetabant. Miles uigilias diuidit, et nox immunis est ab expeditione redeuntium.

Our ancestors too forbade a new report after
the tenth hour to be made in the senate. The soldier divides the watches, and the night is exempt
for those returning from an expedition.

8 Indulgendum est animo dandumque subinde otium, quod alimenti ac uirium loco sit.

8 One must indulge the spirit and from time to time grant leisure, which may serve in place of aliment and of strength.

Et in ambulationibus apertis uagandum, ut caelo libero et multo spiritu augeat attollatque se animus; aliquando uectatio iterque et mutata regio uigorem dabunt, conuictusque et liberalior potio. Nonnumquam et usque ad ebrietatem ueniendum, non ut mergat nos, sed ut deprimat: eluit enim curas et ab imo animum mouet et, ut morbis quibusdam, ita tristitiae medetur, Liberque non ob licentiam linguae dictus est inuentor uini, sed quia liberat seruitio curarum animum et asserit uegetatque et audaciorem in omnes conatus facit.

And in open ambulations one should wander, so that under a free sky and with abundant breath the spirit may augment and lift itself; sometimes a ride and a journey and a changed region will give vigor, and companionship and a more liberal potation. Sometimes too one must come even to drunkenness, not that it may sink us, but that it may settle us: for it washes out cares and moves the spirit from the bottom, and, as for certain diseases, so it treats sadness, and Liber was called the inventor of wine not on account of the license of the tongue, but because he frees the mind from the servitude of cares and manumits it, and enlivens it and makes it more audacious in all endeavors.

9 Sed, ut libertatis, ita uini salubris moderatio est. Solonem Arcesilanque indulsisse uino eredunt; Catoni ebrietas obiecta est: facilius efficient crimen honestum quam turpem Catonem. Sed nec saepe faciendum est, ne animus malam consuetudinem ducat, et aliquando tamen in exsultationem libertatemque extrahendus tristisque sobrietas remouenda paulisper.

9 But, as with liberty, so with wine, salubrious moderation is wholesome. They believe that Solon and Arcesilaus indulged in wine; drunkenness was objected to Cato: they will more easily render the charge honorable than render Cato disgraceful. But it is not to be done often, lest the mind adopt a bad custom, and yet sometimes the mind must be drawn out into exultation and freedom, and gloomy sobriety should be removed for a little while.

10 Nam, siue graeco poetae credimus, "aliquando et insanire iucundum est"; siue Platoni, "frustra poeticas fores compos sui pepulit"; siue Aristoteli, "nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit".

10 For, whether we believe the Greek poet we believe, "sometimes even to be insane is pleasant"; or Plato, "in vain has a man in possession of himself knocked at the poetic doors"; or Aristotle, "there has been no great genius without a mixture of madness."

11 Non potest grande aliquid et super ceteros loqui nisi mota mens. Cum uulgaria et solita contempsit instinctuque sacro surrexit excelsior, tunc demum aliquid cecinit grandius ore mortali. Non potest sublime quicquam et in arduo positum contingere, quamdiu apud se est: desciscat oportet a solito et efferatur et mordeat frenos et rectorem rapiat suum, eoque ferat quo per se timuisset escendere.

11 It cannot speak anything grand and above the rest unless the mind is moved. When it has despised the vulgar and the usual and, by a sacred instinct, has risen higher, then at last it has chanted something more grand with a mortal mouth. It cannot touch anything sublime and set on the arduous height, so long as it is with itself: it ought to secede from the usual and be carried out of itself and bite the reins and snatch away its driver, and bear him to where by itself it would have feared to ascend.

12 Habes, Serene carissime, quae possint tranquillitatem tueri, quae restituere, quae subrepentibus uitiis resistant. Illud tamen scito, nihil horum satis esse ualidum rem imbecillam seruantibus, nisi intenta et assidua cura circumit animum labentem.

12 You have, dearest Serene, things which can protect tranquillity, which can restore it, which can resist creeping vices. Yet know this: none of these is sufficiently strong for those preserving a feeble thing, unless intent and assiduous care encircles the mind that is lapsing.