Seneca: EPISTULAE MORALES AD LUCILIUM

[1] Tamen tu indignaris aliquid aut quereris et non intellegis nihil esse in istis mali nisi hoc unum quod indignaris et quereris? Si me interrogas, nihil puto viro miserum nisi aliquid esse in rerum natura quod putet miserum. Non feram me quo die aliquid ferre non potero.

[1] Yet you are indignant about something or you complain, and you do not understand that there is nothing of evil in these matters except this one thing—that you are indignant and complain? If you ask me, I deem nothing miserable for a man except that there should be in the nature of things something which he deems miserable. I will not bear myself on the day when I cannot bear something.

Male valeo: pars fati est. Familia decubuit, fenus offendit, domus crepuit, damna, vulnera, labores, metus incucurrerunt: solet fieri. Hoc parum est: debuit fieri.

I am unwell: it is a part of fate. The household has taken to bed, the interest has gone awry, the house has cracked, losses, wounds, labors, fears have rushed in: it is wont to happen. This is too little: it was due to happen.

[2] Decernuntur ista, non accidunt. Si quid credis mihi, intimos adfectus meos tibi cum maxime detego: in omnibus quae adversa videntur et dura sic formatus sum: non pareo deo sed adsentior; ex animo illum, non quia necesse est, sequor. Nihil umquam mihi incidet quod tristis excipiam, quod malo vultu; nullum tributum invitus conferam.

[2] These things are decreed, they do not happen. If you trust me at all, I am at this very moment laying bare to you my innermost affections: in all things that seem adverse and hard I am thus formed: I do not obey god but assent; I follow him from the heart, not because it is necessary. Nothing will ever befall me which I shall receive sadly, with an ill countenance; no tribute will I pay unwillingly.

Omnia autem ad quae gemimus, quae expavescimus, tributa vitae sunt: horum, mi Lucili, nec speraveris immunitatem nec petieris.

But all the things at which we groan, which we dread, are the tributes of life: of these, my Lucilius, neither hope for immunity nor ask for it.

[3] Vesicae te dolor inquietavit, epistulae venerunt parum dulces, detrimenta continua — propius accedam, de capite timuisti. Quid, tu nesciebas haec te optare cum optares senectutem? Omnia ista in longa vita sunt, quomodo in longa via et pulvis et lutum et pluvia.

[3] The pain of the bladder has disquieted you, epistles have come scarcely sweet, continual detriments — I come nearer: you have feared for your head. What? Did you not know you were wishing for these things when you were wishing for old age? All these things are in a long life, just as on a long road there are dust and mire and rain.

[4] 'Sed volebam vivere, carere tamen incommodis omnibus.' Tam effeminata vox virum dedecet. Videris quemadmodum hoc votum meum excipias; ego illud magno animo, non tantum bono facio: neque di neque deae faciant ut te fortuna in delicis habeat.

[4] 'But I wanted to live, yet be without all incommodities.' So effeminate a voice ill befits a man. You will see how you take up this my vow; I make it with magnanimity, not merely with a good spirit: may neither gods nor goddesses bring it to pass that Fortune keeps you in delights.

[5] Ipse te interroga, si quis potestatem tibi deus faciat, utrum velis vivere in macello an in castris. Atqui vivere, Lucili, militare est. Itaque hi qui iactantur et per operosa atque ardua sursum ac deorsum eunt et expeditiones periculosissimas obeunt fortes viri sunt primoresque castrorum; isti quos putida quies aliis laborantibus molliter habet turturillae sunt, tuti contumeliae causa.

[5] Ask yourself, if some god should give you the power, whether you would wish to live in the shambles or in the camp. And yet, Lucilius, to live is to soldier. Therefore those who are tossed about and go up and down through toilsome and arduous things and undergo the most perilous expeditions are brave men and the foremost of the camp; those whom a putrid repose holds softly while others labor are little turtledoves, safe to their disgrace.

Vale.

Farewell.

XCVII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

97. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Erras, mi Lucili, si existimas nostri saeculi esse vitium luxuriam et neglegentiam boni moris et alia quae obiecit suis quisque temporibus: hominum sunt ista, non temporum. Nulla aetas vacavit a culpa; et si aestimare licentiam cuiusque saeculi incipias, pudet dicere, numquam apertius quam coram Catone peccatum est.

[1] You err, my Lucilius, if you suppose that the fault of our age is luxury and the negligence of good morals, and the other things which each person has charged upon his own times: these belong to men, not to times. No age has been free from fault; and if you begin to assess the license of each age, I am ashamed to say it, never has there been sinning more openly than in the presence of Cato.

[2] Credat aliquis pecuniam esse versatam in eo iudicio in quo reus erat P. Clodius ob id adulterium quod cum Caesaris uxore in operto commiserat, violatis religionibus eius sacrificii quod 'pro populo' fieri dicitur, sic summotis extra consaeptum omnibus viris ut picturae quoque masculorum animalium contegantur? Atqui dati iudicibus nummi sunt et, quod hac etiamnunc pactione turpius est, stupra insuper matronarum et adulescentulorum nobilium stilari loco exacta sunt.

[2] Let anyone believe that money was in play in that trial in which P. Clodius was the defendant for that adultery which he committed under cover with Caesar’s wife, the religions of that sacrifice which is said to be performed 'for the people' having been violated, with all men so removed outside the enclosed area that even the pictures of male animals are covered? And yet coins were given to the judges and, what is even more shameful than this very pact, the debauchings of matrons and of noble youths were, in addition, exacted in lieu of a tally-entry.

[3] Minus crimine quam absolutione peccatum est: adulterii reus adulteria divisit nec ante fuit de salute securus quam similes sui iudices suos reddidit. Haec in eo iudicio facta sunt in quo, si nihil aliud, Cato testimonium dixerat. Ipsa ponam verba Ciceronis, quia res fidem excedit. [Ciceronis epistvlarum ad Atticum liber primus]

[3] Less was sinned by the crime than by the acquittal: the defendant on the charge of adultery apportioned adulteries, nor was he secure about his safety until he made his judges men like himself. These things were done in that trial in which, if nothing else, Cato gave testimony. I will set down Cicero’s very words, because the matter exceeds belief. [Cicero’s Letters to Atticus, Book One]

[4] 'Accersivit ad se, promisit, intercessit, dedit. Iam vero (o di boni, rem perditam!) etiam noctes certarum mulierum atque adulescentulorum nobilium introductiones nonnullis iudicibus pro mercedis cumulo fuerunt.'

[4] 'He summoned to himself, he promised, he interceded, he gave. And indeed (O good gods, the matter lost!), even nights with certain women and the introductions of noble adolescents were, for some judges, an added heap to the fee.'

[5] Non vacat de pretio queri, plus in accessionibus fuit. 'Vis severi illius uxorem? dabo illam.

[5] There is no leisure to complain about the price; there was more in the accessories. 'Do you want that stern man’s wife? I will give her.

Vis divitis huius? tibi praestabo concubitum. Adulterium nisi feceris, damna.

Do you want this rich man’s [wife]? I will provide you intercourse. Unless you commit adultery, condemn.

Illa formonsa quam desideras veniet. Illius tibi noctem promitto nec differo; intra comperendinationem fides promissi mei extabit.' Plus est distribuere adulteria quam facere; hoc vero matribus familiae denuntiare est.

‘That beautiful woman whom you desire will come. I promise you her night and do not defer; within the comperendination the good faith of my promise will stand forth.’ It is more to distribute adulteries than to commit them; this indeed is to give notice to matrons of households.

[6] Hi iudices Clodiani a senatu petierant praesidium, quod non erat nisi damnaturis necessarium, et inpetraverant; itaque eleganter illis Catulus absoluto reo 'quid vos' inquit 'praesidium a nobis petebatis? an ne nummi vobis eriperentur?' Inter hos tamen iocos inpune tulit ante iudicium adulter, in iudicio leno, qui damnationem peius effugit quam meruit.

[6] These Clodian judges had asked the senate for a guard, which was necessary only for those who were going to condemn, and they had obtained it; accordingly Catulus, with the defendant acquitted, said wittily to them: 'why were you asking a guard from us? or was it lest the coins be snatched from you?' Among these jokes, however, he went unpunished—before the trial an adulterer, in the trial a pimp—who escaped condemnation, worse than he deserved.

[7] Quicquam fuisse corruptius illis moribus credis quibus libido non sacris inhiberi, non iudicis poterat, quibus in ea ipsa quaestione quae extra ordinem senatusconsulto exercebatur plus quam quaerebatur admissum est? Quaerebatur an post adulterium aliquis posset tutus esse: apparuit sine adulterio tutum esse non posse.

[7] Do you believe anything was more corrupt than those mores, in which libido could be restrained neither by sacred rites nor by the judge, in which, in that very quaestio that was being conducted extra ordinem by a senatus-consult, more was admitted than was being inquired after? The question was whether, after adultery, someone could be safe: it became clear that without adultery one could not be safe.

[8] Hoc inter Pompeium et Caesarem, inter Ciceronem Catonemque commissum est, Catonem inquam illum quo sedente populus negatur permisisse sibi postulare Florales iocos nudandarum meretricum, si credis spectasse tunc severius homines quam iudicasse. Et fient et facta sunt ista, et licentia urbium aliquando disciplina metuque, numquam sponte considet.

[8] This was contested between Pompey and Caesar, between Cicero and Cato—Cato, I say, that very one, under whose presidency the people is said not to have allowed itself to ask for the Floralia jests of prostitutes being stripped, if you believe that men were then stricter in spectating than in judging. And such things both will happen and have happened, and the license of cities sometimes subsides by discipline and by fear, never of its own accord.

[9] Non est itaque quod credas nos plurimum libidini permisisse, legibus minimum; longe enim frugalior haec iuventus est quam illa, cum reus adulterium apud iudices negaret, iudices apud reum confiterentur, cum stuprum committeretur rei iudicandae causa, cum Clodius, isdem vitiis gratiosus quibus nocens, conciliaturas exerceret in ipsa causae dictione. Credat hoc quisquam? qui damnabatur uno adulterio absolutus est multis.

[9] Therefore there is no reason for you to believe that we permitted very much to lust, very little to the laws; for this youth is by far more frugal than that, when the defendant denied adultery before the judges, the judges confessed before the defendant, when debauchery was committed for the sake of judging the case, when Clodius, favored by the same vices by which he was guilty, exercised conciliation-campaigns in the very pleading of the case. Would anyone believe this? he who was being condemned for one adultery was absolved by many.

[10] Omne tempus Clodios, non omne Catones feret. Ad deteriora faciles sumus, quia nec dux potest nec comes deesse, et res ipsa etiam sine duce, sine comite procedit. Non pronum est tantum ad vitia sed praeceps, et, quod plerosque inemendabiles facit, omnium aliarum artium peccata artificibus pudori sunt offenduntque deerrantem, vitae peccata delectant.

[10] Every age will bear Clodii, not every age Catones. Toward worse things we are facile, since neither leader nor companion can be lacking, and the thing itself proceeds even without a leader, without a companion. It is not only prone to vices but headlong; and—what makes the majority incorrigible—the sins of all other arts are a shame to their artificers and they offend the one who strays, but the sins of life delight.

[11] Non gaudet navigio gubernator everso, non gaudet aegro medicus elato, non gaudet orator si patroni culpa reus cecidit, at contra omnibus crimen suum voluptati est: laetatur ille adulterio in quod inritatus est ipsa difficultate; laetatur ille circumscriptione furtoque, nec ante illi culpa quam culpae fortuna displicuit. Id prava consuetudine evenit.

[11] The helmsman does not rejoice at an overturned ship, the medic does not rejoice when the sick man is carried out, the orator does not rejoice if by the patron’s fault the defendant has fallen; but on the contrary, to everyone his own crime is a delight: that man rejoices in the adultery into which he was incited by the very difficulty; that man rejoices in circumvention and in theft, nor does the offense displease him before the fortune of the offense does. This comes about from a depraved custom.

[12] Alioquin, ut scias subesse animis etiam in pessima abductis boni sensum nec ignorari turpe sed neglegi, omnes peccata dissimulant et, quamvis feliciter cesserint, fructu illorum utuntur, ipsa subducunt. At bona conscientia prodire vult et conspici: ipsas nequitia tenebras timet.

[12] Otherwise, that you may know that a sense of the good lies beneath minds even when drawn off into the worst things, and that the base is not ignored but neglected, all dissimulate their sins and, although they have turned out successfully, they make use of their fruits while they withdraw the deeds themselves from sight. But a good conscience wants to come forth and be seen: wickedness fears even the very shadows.

[13] Eleganter itaque ab Epicuro dictum puto: 'potest nocenti contingere ut lateat, latendi fides non potest', aut si hoc modo melius hunc explicari posse iudicas sensum: 'ideo non prodest latere peccantibus quia latendi etiam si felicitatem habent, fiduciam non habent'. Ita est, tuta scelera esse possunt, .

[13] Elegantly, therefore, I think it was said by Epicurus: 'it can befall the guilty to lie hidden; confidence for hiding cannot,' or, if you judge that this sense can be better explained in this way: 'therefore it does not profit sinners to be hidden, because with regard to hiding, even if they have good fortune, they do not have confidence.' So it is: crimes can be safe; .

[14] Hoc ego repugnare sectae nostrae si sic expediatur non iudico. Quare? quia prima illa et maxima peccantium est poena peccasse, nec ullum scelus, licet illud fortuna exornet muneribus suis, licet tueatur ac vindicet, inpunitum est, quoniam sceleris in scelere supplicium est.

[14] I do not judge that this, if it be thus expounded, repugns our sect. Why? Because the first and greatest penalty of the sinning is to have sinned; nor is any crime, although fortune adorn it with her gifts, although she protect and vindicate it, unpunished, since the punishment of crime is in the crime.

Sed nihilominus et hae illam secundae poenae premunt ac sequuntur, timere semper et expavescere et securitati diffidere. Quare ego hoc supplicio nequitiam liberem? quare non semper illam in suspenso relinquam?

But nonetheless these too, the secondary penalties, press upon and follow her: to be always afraid and panic‑stricken, and to distrust security. Why should I free wickedness from this punishment? why should I not always leave it in suspense?

[15] Illic dissentiamus cum Epicuro ubi dicit nihil iustum esse natura et crimina vitanda esse quia vitari metus non posse: hic consentiamus, mala facinora conscientia flagellari et plurimum illi tormentorum esse eo quod perpetua illam sollicitudo urget ac verberat, quod sponsoribus securitatis suae non potest credere. Hoc enim ipsum argumentum est, Epicure, natura nos a scelere abhorrere, quod nulli non etiam inter tuta timor est.

[15] There let us dissent with Epicurus where he says that nothing is just by nature and that crimes are to be avoided because fear cannot be avoided: here let us consent, that evil deeds are flagellated by conscience and that there are very many torments for it, for the reason that perpetual solicitude urges and scourges it, because it cannot believe the sponsors of its security. For this very thing is an argument, Epicurus, that by nature we abhor crime, that to no one is there not fear even amid things secure.

[16] Multos fortuna liberat poena, metu neminem. Quare nisi quia infixa nobis eius rei aversatio est quam natura damnavit? Ideo numquam fides latendi fit etiam latentibus quia coarguit illos conscientia et ipsos sibi ostendit.

[16] Fortune frees many from punishment, from fear no one. Why, unless because an aversion to that thing which nature has condemned is fixed in us? Therefore assurance of concealment never comes to be, even for those who are concealed, because conscience convicts them and shows them to themselves.

Proprium autem est nocentium trepidare. Male de nobis actum erat, quod multa scelera legem et vindicem effugiunt et scripta supplicia, nisi illa naturalia et gravia de praesentibus solverent et in locum patientiae timor cederet. Vale.

It is the proper characteristic of the guilty to tremble. It would have gone ill with us, since many crimes escape the law, the avenger, and the written punishments, unless those natural and grave ones exacted payment in the present, and fear took the place of patience. Farewell.

XCVIII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

98. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETINGS

[1] Numquam credideris felicem quemquam ex felicitate suspensum. Fragilibus innititur qui adventicio laetus est: exibit gaudium quod intravit. At illud ex se ortum fidele firmumque est et crescit et ad extremum usque prosequitur: cetera quorum admiratio est vulgo in diem bona sunt.

[1] Never believe anyone happy who is suspended from felicity. He who is gladdened by the adventitious leans on fragile things: the joy that entered will go out. But that which has arisen from itself is faithful and firm, and it grows and attends one even to the very end: the rest, whose admiration is among the crowd, are goods for a day.

'Quid ergo? non usui ac voluptati esse possunt?' Quis negat? sed ita si illa ex nobis pendent, non ex illis nos.

'What then? Can they not be for use and pleasure?' Who denies it? But only thus, if those things depend on us, and not we on them.

[2] Omnia quae fortuna intuetur ita fructifera ac iucunda fiunt si qui habet illa se quoque habet nec in rerum suarum potestate est. Errant enim, Lucili, qui aut boni aliquid nobis aut mali iudicant tribuere fortunam: materiam dat bonorum ac malorum et initia rerum apud nos in malum bonumve exiturarum. Valentior enim omni fortuna animus est et in utramque partem ipse res suas ducit beataeque ac miserae vitae sibi causa est.

[2] All things which Fortune looks upon become thus fruit-bearing and jocund, if he who has those things also has himself and is not in the power of his own things. They err, Lucilius, who judge that Fortune bestows upon us anything of good or of ill: she gives the material of goods and evils and the beginnings of affairs, with us, that are going to issue into bad or good. For the spirit is stronger than all Fortune and in either direction itself leads its own affairs, and is to itself the cause of a blessed and a miserable life.

[3] Malus omnia in malum vertit, etiam quae cum specie optimi venerant: rectus atque integer corrigit prava fortunae et dura atque aspera ferendi scientia mollit, idemque et secunda grate excipit modesteque et adversa constanter ac fortiter. Qui licet prudens sit, licet exacto faciat cuncta iudicio, licet nihil supra vires suas temptet, non continget illi bonum illud integrum et extra minas positum nisi certus adversus incerta est.

[3] The bad man turns everything into bad, even those things which had come with the appearance of the best: the upright and integral man corrects Fortune’s crooked things and softens the hard and rough by the science of bearing; and he both gratefully and modestly receives prosperous things, and steadfastly and bravely [receives] adverse things. He who, although he be prudent, although he does everything with exact judgment, although he attempts nothing beyond his powers, will not attain to that good which is integral and placed beyond threats unless he is steadfast against uncertainties.

[4] Sive alios observare volueris (liberius enim inter aliena iudicium est) sive te ipsum favore seposito, et senties hoc et confiteberis, nihil ex his optabilibus et caris utile esse nisi te contra levitatem casus rerumque casum sequentium instruxeris, nisi illud frequenter et sine querella inter singula damna dixeris:

[4] Whether you should wish to observe others (for judgment is freer among others’ affairs) or yourself, with favor set aside, you will both feel this and confess it: that nothing of those desirable and dear things is useful unless you shall have armed yourself against the levity of chance and the chance of the things that follow, unless you shall have said this frequently and without complaint among each single loss:

dis aliter visum est.

it has seemed otherwise to the gods.

[5] Immo mehercules, ut carmen fortius ac iustius petam quo animum tuum magis fulcias, hoc dicito quotiens aliquid aliter quam cogitabas evenerit: 'di melius'. Sic composito nihil accidet. Sic autem componetur si quid humanarum rerum varietas possit cogitaverit antequam senserit, si et liberos et coniugem et patrimonium sic habuerit tamquam non utique semper habiturus et tamquam non futurus ob hoc miserior si habere desierit.

[5] Nay rather, by Hercules, that I may seek a stronger and more just formula by which you may more buttress your spirit, say this whenever something has turned out otherwise than you were thinking: 'the gods grant better.' Thus, being composed, nothing will befall. And thus will one be composed, if he has thought in advance, before he has felt it, what the variability of human affairs can effect; if he has held both children and spouse and patrimony in such a way as though he were not at all going to have them always, and as though he would not be on this account more miserable if he should cease to have them.

[6] Calamitosus est animus futuri anxius et ante miserias miser, qui sollicitus est ut ea quibus delectatur ad extremum usque permaneant; nullo enim tempore conquiescet et expectatione venturi praesentia, quibus frui poterat, amittet. In aequo est autem amissae rei et timor amittendae.

[6] Calamitous is the mind anxious about the future and wretched before its miseries, which is solicitous that the things by which it delights may remain to the very end; for at no time will it come to rest, and through expectation of what is to come it will lose the present things, which it could have enjoyed. Moreover, the of a thing lost and the fear of one about to be lost are on an equal footing.

[7] Nec ideo praecipio tibi neglegentiam. Tu vero metuenda declina; quidquid consilio prospici potest prospice; quodcumque laesurum est multo ante quam accidat speculare et averte. In hoc ipsum tibi plurimum conferet fiducia et ad tolerandum omne obfirmata mens.

[7] Nor therefore do I prescribe to you negligence. Rather, decline the things to be feared; whatever can be foreseen by counsel, foresee; whatever is going to injure, long before it happens, observe and avert it. In this very matter confidence will contribute to you very greatly, and a mind made steadfast for tolerating everything.

Potest fortunam cavere qui potest ferre; certe in tranquillo non tumultuatur. Nihil est nec miserius nec stultius quam praetimere: quae ista dementia est malum suum antecedere?

He can beware of Fortune who can bear her; surely, in a calm he does not raise a tumult. Nothing is either more miserable or more foolish than to pre-fear: what madness is this, to anticipate one’s own evil?

[8] Denique, ut breviter includam quod sentio et istos satagios ac sibi molestos describam tibi, tam intemperantes in ipsis miseriis sunt quam ante illas. Plus dolet quam necesse est qui ante dolet quam necesse est; eadem enim infirmitate dolorem non aestimat qua non expectat; eadem intemperantia fingit sibi perpetuam felicitatem suam, fingit crescere debere quaecumque contigerunt, non tantum durare, et oblitus huius petauri quo humana iactantur sibi uni fortuitorum constantiam spondet.

[8] Finally, to encapsulate briefly what I think and to describe to you those bustling and self-burdensome people, they are as intemperate in the miseries themselves as before them. He grieves more than is necessary who grieves before it is necessary; for by the same infirmity by which he does not await it, he does not estimate the pain; by the same intemperance he fashions for himself his perpetual felicity, he imagines that whatever has befallen ought to grow, not merely to endure; and, forgetful of this springboard by which human things are tossed, he pledges to himself alone the constancy of fortuitous things.

[9] Egregie itaque videtur mihi Metrodorus dixisse in ea epistula qua sororem amisso optimae indolis filio adloquitur: 'mortale est omne mortalium bonum'. De his loquitur bonis ad quae concurritur; nam illud verum bonum non moritur, certum est sempiternumque, sapientia et virtus; hoc unum contingit inmortale mortalibus.

[9] Excellently, therefore, Metrodorus seems to me to have said in that epistle in which he addresses his sister upon the loss of her son of the best disposition: 'Every good of mortals is mortal.' He is speaking of those goods for which there is a concourse; for that true good does not die, it is sure and sempiternal—wisdom and virtue; this alone befalls mortals as immortal.

[10] Ceterum tam inprobi sunt tamque obliti quo eant, quo illos singuli dies trudant, ut mirentur aliquid ipsos amittere, amissuri uno die omnia. Quidquid est cui dominus inscriberis apud te est, tuum non est; nihil firmum infirmo, nihil fragili aeternum et invictum est. Tam necesse est perire quam perdere et hoc ipsum, si intellegimus, solacium est.

[10] Moreover, they are so shameless and so forgetful of where they are going, where each single day thrusts them, that they marvel at their losing anything at all, though about to lose everything in one day. Whatever it is over which you are inscribed as lord is with you; it is not yours; nothing is firm for the infirm, nothing eternal and unconquered for the fragile. It is as necessary to perish as to lose; and this very thing, if we understand it, is a solace.

Aequo animo perde: pereundum est.

Lose with equanimity: one must perish.

[11] Quid ergo adversus has amissiones auxili invenimus? hoc, ut memoria teneamus amissa nec cum ipsis fructum excidere patiamur quem ex illis percepimus. Habere eripitur, habuisse numquam.

[11] What, therefore, do we find of help against these losses? This: that we hold in memory the things lost, and that we do not allow, along with them, the fruit which we perceived from them to fall away. To have is snatched away; to have had, never.

Peringratus est qui, cum amisit, pro accepto nihil debet. Rem nobis eripit casus, usum fructumque apud nos relinquit, quem nos iniquitate desiderii perdidimus.

He is very ungrateful who, when he has lost, owes nothing for what he received. Chance snatches the thing from us; it leaves with us the use and the fruition, which we have lost through the iniquity of desire.

[12] Dic tibi ex istis quae terribilia videntur nihil est invictum'. Singula vicere iam multi, ignem Mucius, crucem Regulus, venenum Socrates, exilium Rutilius, mortem ferro adactam Cato: et nos vincamus aliquid.

[12] Say to yourself: of those things which seem terrible, nothing is unconquerable'. Many already have conquered them one by one—fire, Mucius; the cross, Regulus; venom, Socrates; exile, Rutilius; death driven home by iron, Cato: and let us too conquer something.

[13] Rursus ista quae ut speciosa et felicia trahunt vulgum a multis et saepe contempta sunt. Fabricius divitias imperator reiecit, censor notavit; Tubero paupertatem et se dignam et Capitolio iudicavit, cum fictilibus in publica cena usus ostendit debere iis hominem esse contentum quibus di etiamnunc uterentur. Honores reppulit pater Sextius, qui ita natus ut rem publicam deberet capessere, latum clavum divo Iulio dante non recepit; intellegebat enim quod dari posset et eripi posse.

[13] Again, those things which, as specious and felicitous, draw the vulgar crowd have by many and often been contemned. Fabricius, as imperator, rejected riches; as censor, he censured them. Tubero judged poverty worthy both of himself and of the Capitol, when, using fictile (earthenware) at a public banquet, he showed that a man ought to be content with those things which the gods even now would use. Honors were repelled by Sextius the father, who, born so as to owe it to undertake the republic, did not accept the broad stripe when the deified Julius was offering it; for he understood that what could be given could also be snatched away.

Nos quoque aliquid et ipsi faciamus animose; simus inter exempla.

We too, let us ourselves do something boldly; let us be among the examples.

[14] Quare defecimus? quare desperamus? Quidquid fieri potuit potest, nos modo purgemus animum sequamurque naturam, a qua aberranti cupiendum timendumque est et fortuitis serviendum.

[14] Why have we failed? Why do we despair? Whatever could be done can be done; let us only purge our mind and follow nature, from which, if one strays, there must be desiring and fearing, and one must serve the fortuitous.

Licet reverti in viam, licet in integrum restitui: restituamur, ut possimus dolores quocumque modo corpus invaserint perferre et fortunae dicere 'cum viro tibi negotium est: quaere quem vincas'.

It is permitted to return to the way, it is permitted to be restored to integrity: let us be restored, so that we may be able to endure pains, in whatever way they have invaded the body, and to say to Fortune, 'you have business with a man: seek someone whom you may vanquish'.

[15] * * * His sermonibus et his similibus lenitur illa vis ulceris, quam opto mehercules mitigari et aut sanari aut stare et cum ipso senescere. Sed securus de illo sum: de nostro damno agitur, quibus senex egregius eripitur. Nam ipse vitae plenus est, cui adici nihil desiderat sua causa sed eorum quibus utilis est.

[15] * * * By these discourses and by others like them the force of that ulcer is soothed, which I, by Hercules, wish to be mitigated and either healed, or to stand fast and to grow old along with him. But I am untroubled about him: it is our loss that is in question, we from whom that outstanding old man is being snatched away. For he himself is full of life; he desires nothing to be added for his own sake, but for those to whom he is useful.

[16] Liberaliter facit quod vivit. Alius iam hos cruciatus finisset: hic tam turpe putat mortem fugere quam ad mortem confugere. 'Quid ergo?

[16] He acts liberally in that he lives. Another would already have ended these torments: this man thinks it just as shameful to flee death as to take refuge in death. 'What then?

non si suadebit res exibit?' Quidni exeat, si nemo iam uti eo poterit, si nihil aliud quam dolori operam dabit?

Will he not go out, if the matter will persuade?' Why should he not go out, if no one now will be able to use him, if he will give attention to nothing other than pain?

[17] Hoc est, mi Lucili, philosophiam in opere discere et ad verum exerceri, videre quid homo prudens animi habeat contra mortem, contra dolorem, cum illa accedat, hic premat; quid faciendum sit a faciente discendum est.

[17] This, my Lucilius, is to learn philosophy in practice and to be exercised toward the true: to see what a prudent man has of spirit against death, against pain, when that comes near, this presses; what must be done is to be learned from the one doing it.

[18] Adhuc argumentis actum est an posset aliqui dolori resistere, an mors magnos quoque animos admota summittere. Quid opus est verbis? in rem praesentem eamus: nec mors illum contra dolorem facit fortiorem nec dolor contra mortem.

[18] Thus far it has been conducted by arguments whether anyone could resist pain, whether death, when brought near, would lower even great spirits. What need is there of words? let us go to the present matter: neither does death make that man stronger against pain, nor pain against death.

Contra utrumque sibi fidit nec spe mortis patienter dolet nec taedio doloris libenter moritur: hunc fert, illam expectat. Vale.

Against both he trusts himself, and neither by the hope of death does he suffer pain patiently nor by the weariness of pain does he die willingly: he bears the one, he awaits the other. Farewell.

XCIX. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

99. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETINGS

[1] Epistulam quam scripsi Marullo cum filium parvulum amisisset et diceretur molliter ferre misi tibi, in qua non sum solitum morem secutus nec putavi leniter illum debere tractari, cum obiurgatione esset quam solacio dignior. Adflicto enim et magnum vulnus male ferenti paulisper cedendum est; exsatiet se aut certe primum impetum effundat:

[1] I sent to you the epistle which I wrote to Marullus when he had lost his very little son and was said to be bearing it softly, in which I did not follow the customary manner, nor did I think he ought to be handled gently, since he was more worthy of objurgation than of solace. For to one afflicted and bearing a great wound ill one must give way for a little while; let him sate himself, or at least pour out the first onset:

[2] hi qui sibi lugere sumpserunt protinus castigentur et discant quasdam etiam lacrimarum ineptias esse.

[2] Those who have assumed to mourn for themselves should straightway be chastised, and let them learn that there are even certain ineptitudes of tears.

'Solacia expectas? convicia accipe. Tam molliter tu fers mortem filii?

'Do you expect consolations? Receive reproaches. Do you bear the death of your son so softly?

quid faceres si amicum perdidisses? Decessit filius incertae spei, parvulus; pusillum temporis perit.

What would you do if you had lost a friend? A son of uncertain hope has departed, a very small child; a tiny span of time has perished.

[3] Causas doloris conquirimus et de fortuna etiam inique queri volumus, quasi non sit iustas querendi causas praebitura: at mehercules satis mihi iam videbaris animi habere etiam adversus solida mala, nedum ad istas umbras malorum quibus ingemescunt homines moris causa. Quod damnorum omnium maximum est, si amicum perdidisses, danda opera erat ut magis gauderes quod habueras quam maereres quod amiseras.

[3] We hunt up causes of grief and even wish to complain unjustly about Fortune, as if she would not furnish just causes for complaining: but, by Hercules, you already seemed to me to have enough spirit even against solid evils, much less against those shadows of evils at which men groan for the sake of custom. As to what would be the greatest of all losses, if you had lost a friend, pains ought to have been taken that you might rejoice more in what you had had than mourn what you had lost.

[4] Sed plerique non conputant quanta perceperint, quantum gavisi sint. Hoc habet inter reliqua mali dolor iste: non supervacuus tantum sed ingratus est. Ergo quod habuisti talem amicum, perit opera?

[4] But the majority do not compute how much they have received, how much they have rejoiced. This grief has this among its other evils: it is not only superfluous but ungrateful. Therefore, because you have had such a friend, is the effort wasted?

Tot annis, tanta coniunctione vitae, tam familiari studiorum societate nil actum est? Cum amico effers amicitiam? Et quid doles amisisse, si habuisse non prodest?

With so many years, with so great a conjunction of life, with so familiar a society of studies, has nothing been accomplished? Are you burying the friendship along with the friend? And what do you grieve to have lost, if having had it does not profit?

Mihi crede, magna pars ex iis quos amavimus, licet ipsos casus abstulerit, apud nos manet; nostrum est quod praeterit tempus nec quicquam est loco tutiore quam quod fuit.

Believe me, a great part of those whom we have loved, though the very accidents have carried them off, remains with us; what has passed is ours, and nothing is in a safer place than what has been.

[5] Ingrati adversus percepta spe futuri sumus, quasi non quod futurum est, si modo successerit nobis, cito in praeterita transiturum sit. Anguste fructus rerum determinat qui tantum praesentibus laetus est: et futura et praeterita delectant, haec expectatione, illa memoria, sed alterum pendet et non fieri potest, alterum non potest non fuisse. Quis ergo furor est certissimo excidere?

[5] We are ungrateful toward the perceived hope of the future, as though what is going to be—if only it should succeed for us—were not soon going to pass into the past. He narrowly determines the fruits of things who is glad only with present things: both the future and the past delight—this by expectation, that by memory—but the one hangs in suspense and may not come to be, the other cannot not have been. What madness, then, to fall away from the most certain?

Adquiescamus iis quae iam hausimus, si modo non perforato animo hauriebamus et transmittente quidquid acceperat.

Let us acquiesce in those things which we have already imbibed, provided only that we were not drawing with a perforated mind, transmitting whatever it had accepted.

[6] 'Innumerabilia sunt exempla eorum qui liberos iuvenes sine lacrimis extulerint, qui in senatum aut in aliquod publicum officium a rogo redierint et statim aliud egerint. Nec inmerito; nam primum supervacuum est dolere si nihil dolendo proficias; deinde iniquum est queri de eo quod uni accidit, omnibus restat; deinde desiderii stulta conquestio est, ubi minimum interest inter amissum et desiderantem. Eo itaque aequiore animo esse debemus quod quos amisimus sequimur.

[6] 'Innumerable are the examples of those who have borne out to burial their children, young men, without tears, who have returned from the pyre to the senate or to some public office and straightway have transacted other business. Nor undeservedly; for, first, it is superfluous to grieve if by grieving you profit nothing; then, it is iniquitous to complain about that which has befallen one, which remains for all; then, the complaint of desire is foolish, where there is the least difference between the one lost and the one longing. Therefore we ought to be of the more equable spirit because we follow those whom we have lost.'

[7] Respice celeritatem rapidissimi temporis, cogita brevitatem huius spatii per quod citatissimi currimus, observa hunc comitatum generis humani eodem tendentis, minimis intervallis distinctum etiam ubi maxima videntur: quem putas perisse praemissus est. Quid autem dementius quam, cum idem tibi iter emetiendum sit, flere eum qui antecessit?

[7] Look upon the celerity of most rapid time, consider the brevity of this span through which we run at the swiftest, observe this convoy of the human race tending the same way, separated by the smallest intervals even where the greatest seem: the one whom you think to have perished has been sent ahead. And what is more demented than, when the same journey must be measured out by you, to weep for him who has gone before?

[8] Flet aliquis factum quod non ignoravit futurum? Aut si mortem in homine non cogitavit, sibi inposuit. Flet aliquis factum quod aiebat non posse non fieri?

[8] Does anyone weep over a fact which he did not ignore would be going to happen? Or if he did not think about death in a human being, he has imposed upon himself. Does anyone weep over a fact which he was saying could not not come to pass?

quisquis aliquem queritur mortuum esse, queritur hominem fuisse. Omnis eadem condicio devinxit: cui nasci contigit mori restat.

whoever complains that someone has died, complains that he was a human. The same condition has bound all: to whom it has chanced to be born, it remains to die.

[9] Intervallis distinguimur, exitu aequamur. Hoc quod inter primum diem et ultimum iacet varium incertumque est: si molestias aestimes, etiam puero longum, si velocitatem, etiam seni angustum. Nihil non lubricum et fallax et omni tempestate mobilius; iactantur cuncta et in contrarium transeunt iubente fortuna, et in tanta volutatione rerum humanarum nihil cuiquam nisi mors certum est; tamen de eo queruntur omnes in quo uno nemo decipitur.

[9] By intervals we are distinguished; by the exit we are equalized. This which lies between the first day and the last is various and uncertain: if you reckon the annoyances, even for a boy it is long; if the velocity, even for an old man it is short. There is nothing that is not slippery and fallacious and more changeable than any season; all things are tossed and pass into the contrary at Fortune’s bidding, and in so great a revolution of human affairs nothing is certain for anyone except death; yet about this all complain, in which alone no one is deceived.

[10] '"Sed puer decessit." Nondum dico melius agi cum eo qui vita defungitur: ad eum transeamus qui consenuit: quantulo vincit infantem! Propone temporis profundi vastitatem et universum conplectere, deinde hoc quod aetatem vocamus humanam compara immenso: videbis quam exiguum sit quod optamus, quod extendimus.

[10] '"But the boy has died." I do not yet say that it goes better with him who is discharged from life ; let us pass to him who has grown old: by how little does he surpass an infant! Set before yourself the vastness of profound time and embrace the universe, then compare what we call the human age to the immensity: you will see how scant is that which we desire, which we extend.

[11] Ex hoc quantum lacrimae, quantum sollicitudines occupant? quantum mors antequam veniat optata, quantum valetudo, quantum timor? quantum tenent aut rudes aut inutiles anni?

[11] From this, how many tears, how many solicitudes, take possession? how much is death, before it comes, desired? how much ill-health, how much fear? how much do years, either rude or useless, occupy?

dimidium ex hoc edormitur. Adice labores, luctus, pericula, et intelleges etiam in longissima vita minimum esse quod vivitur.

Half of this is slept away. Add labors, laments, perils, and you will understand that even in the longest life the least part is that which is lived.

[12] Sed quis tibi concedit non melius se habere eum cui cito reverti licet, cui ante lassitudinem peractum est iter? Vita nec bonum nec malum est: boni ac mali locus est. Ita nihil ille perdidit nisi aleam in damnum certiorem.

[12] But who concedes to you that he does not fare better, he to whom it is permitted to return quickly, whose journey has been completed before weariness? Life is neither a good nor an evil: it is a place of good and evil. Thus he has lost nothing except the chance of a more certain loss.

Potuit evadere modestus et prudens, potuit sub cura tua in meliora formari, sed, quod iustius timetur, potuit fieri pluribus similis.

He could have turned out modest and prudent, he could have been formed into better things under your care, but, what is more justly feared, he could have become like the many.

[13] Aspice illos iuvenes quos ex nobilissimis domibus in harenam luxuria proiecit; aspice illos qui suam alienamque libidinem exercent mutuo inpudici, quorum nullus sine ebrietate, nullus sine aliquo insigni flagitio dies exit: plus timeri quam sperari potuisse manifestum erit. Non debes itaque causas doloris accersere nec levia incommoda indignando cumulare.

[13] Look at those youths whom luxury has cast from the noblest houses into the arena; look at those who, shameless, reciprocally exercise their own and others’ libido, of whom no day passes without ebriety, no day without some conspicuous scandalous crime: it will be manifest that he could have been more to be feared than to be hoped for. Therefore you ought not to summon causes of grief nor to heap up slight inconveniences by being indignant.

[14] Non hortor ut nitaris et surgas; non tam male de te iudico ut tibi adversus hoc totam putem virtutem advocandam. Non est dolor iste sed morsus: tu illum dolorem facis. Sine dubio multum philosophia profecit, si puerum nutrici adhuc quam patri notiorem animo forti desideras.

[14] I do not exhort you to strain and rise; I do not judge so ill of you as to think that you must call in the whole of virtue as an advocate against this. This is not pain but a bite: you make it pain. Without doubt philosophy has profited much, if with a stout spirit you long for a boy still more known to his nurse than to his father.

[15] 'Quid? nunc ego duritiam suadeo et in funere ipso rigere vultum volo et animum ne contrahi quidem patior? Minime.

[15] 'What? Am I now advising hardness, and do I wish the countenance to be rigid even at the funeral itself, and do I not even permit the spirit to be contracted? By no means.

Inhumanitas est ista, non virtus, funera suorum isdem oculis quibus ipsos videre nec commoveri ad primam familiarium divulsionem. Puta autem me vetare: quaedam sunt sui iuris; excidunt etiam retinentibus lacrimae et animum profusae levant.

That is inhumanity, not virtue, to behold the funerals of one’s own with the same eyes with which one beheld them themselves, and not to be moved at the first sundering of intimates. But suppose, however, that I forbid it: certain things are of their own right; tears slip out even for those who hold them back, and, poured forth, they lighten the spirit.

[16] Quid ergo est? permittamus illis cadere, non imperemus; fluat quantum adfectus eiecerit, non quantum poscet imitatio. Nihil vero maerori adiciamus nec illum ad alienum augeamus exemplum.

[16] What then? Let us allow them to fall, let us not command; let it flow as much as emotion gives vent, not as much as imitation will demand. Let us add nothing to grief, nor augment it by another’s example.

Plus ostentatio doloris exigit quam dolor: quotus quisque sibi tristis est? Clarius cum audiuntur gemunt, et taciti quietique dum secretum est, cum aliquos videre, in fletus novos excitantur; tunc capiti suo manus ingerunt (quod potuerant facere nullo prohibente liberius), tunc mortem comprecantur sibi, tunc lectulo devolvuntur: sine spectatore cessat dolor.

Ostentation of grief exacts more than grief: how few are sad for themselves? They groan more loudly when they are heard, and, silent and quiet while it is secret, when they see some people, they are roused into new weeping; then they lay hands upon their own head (which they could have done more freely with no one preventing), then they pray for death for themselves, then they roll off the couch: without a spectator grief ceases.

[17] Sequitur nos, ut in aliis rebus, ita in hac quoque hoc vitium, ad plurium exempla componi nec quid oporteat sed quid soleat aspicere. A natura discedimus, populo nos damus nullius rei bono auctori et in hac re sicut in his omnibus inconstantissimo. Videt aliquem fortem in luctu suo, impium vocat et efferatum; videt aliquem conlabentem et corpori adfusum, effeminatum ait et enervem.

[17] As in other matters, so in this too, this vice follows us: to be conformed to the examples of the many and to look not at what ought to be but at what is wont. We depart from nature; we hand ourselves over to the populace, the author of no good thing, and in this matter, as in all these, most inconstant. He sees someone strong in his mourning—he calls him impious and savage; he sees someone collapsing and pressed to the body—he says effeminate and enervate.

[18] Omnia itaque ad rationem revocanda sunt. Stultius vero nihil est quam famam captare tristitiae et lacrimas adprobare, quas iudico sapienti viro alias permissas cadere, alias vi sua latas. Dicam quid intersit.

[18] Therefore everything must be recalled to reason. Indeed, nothing is more foolish than to court the fame of sadness and to approve tears, which I judge in a wise man to be sometimes permitted to fall, sometimes carried along by their own force. I will say what the difference is.

Cum primus nos nuntius acerbi funeris perculit, cum tenemus corpus e complexu nostro in ignem transiturum, lacrimas naturalis necessitas exprimit et spiritus ictu doloris inpulsus quemadmodum totum corpus quatit, ita oculos, quibus adiacentem umorem perpremit et expellit.

When first the message of the bitter funeral smote us, when we hold the body, about to pass from our embrace into the fire, natural necessity squeezes out tears, and the spirit, driven by the blow of grief, just as it shakes the whole body, so it presses hard upon the eyes and expels the moisture lying adjacent.

[19] Hae lacrimae per elisionem cadunt nolentibus nobis: aliae sunt quibus exitum damus cum memoria eorum quos amisimus retractatur, et inest quiddam dulce tristitiae cum occurrunt sermones eorum iucundi, conversatio hilaris, officiosa pietas; tunc oculi velut in gaudio relaxantur. His indulgemus, illis vincimur.

[19] These tears fall by elision, against our will; there are others to which we give an outlet when the memory of those whom we have lost is taken up again, and there is something sweet in sadness when their pleasant talks come to mind, their cheerful companionship, their dutiful piety; then the eyes, as if in joy, are relaxed. These we indulge; by those we are overcome.

[20] Non est itaque quod lacrimas propter circumstantem adsidentemque aut contineas aut exprimas: nec cessant nec fluunt umquam tam turpiter quam finguntur: eant sua sponte. Ire autem possunt placidis atque compositis; saepe salva sapientis auctoritate fluxerunt tanto temperamento ut illis nec humanitas nec dignitas deesset.

[20] Therefore there is no reason why, on account of the bystander, whether standing around or sitting beside, you should either restrain your tears or express them; nor do they ever cease or flow so shamefully as when they are feigned: let them go of their own accord. And they can go forth placid and composed; often, with the authority of the wise man intact, they have flowed with such a temperament that neither humanity nor dignity was lacking to them.

[21] Licet, inquam, naturae obsequi gravitate servata. Vidi ego in funere suorum verendos, in quorum ore amor eminebat remota omni lugentium scaena; nihil erat nisi quod veris dabatur adfectibus. Est aliquis et dolendi decor; hic sapienti servandus est et quemadmodum in ceteris rebus, ita etiam in lacrimis aliquid sat est: inprudentium ut gaudia sic dolores exundavere.

[21] It is permitted, I say, to comply with nature, with gravity preserved. I myself have seen the venerable at the funeral of their own, on whose countenance love stood out, with every scene of mourners removed; there was nothing except what was given to true affections. There is also a decorum of grieving; this the wise man must preserve, and, just as in other matters, so even in tears there is some “enough”: the joys of the imprudent, and so too their sorrows, have overflowed.

[22] 'Aequo animo excipe necessaria. Quid incredibile, quid novum evenit? quam multis cum maxime funus locatur, quam multis vitalia emuntur, quam multi post luctum tuum lugent!

[22] 'Accept the necessary things with an even mind. What incredible thing, what novel thing has happened? for how many, at this very moment, a funeral is being arranged; for how many shrouds are being bought; how many, after your mourning, are mourning!

Quotiens cogitaveris puerum fuisse, cogita et hominem, cui nihil certi promittitur, quem fortuna non utique perducit ad senectutem: unde visum est dimittit.

As often as you have reflected that he was a boy, reflect also on the man, to whom nothing certain is promised, whom Fortune does not necessarily conduct to old age: when it so seems to her, she dismisses him.

[23] Ceterum frequenter de illo loquere et memoriam eius quantum potes celebra; quae ad te saepius revertetur si erit sine acerbitate ventura; nemo enim libenter tristi conversatur, nedum tristitiae. Si quos sermones eius, si quos quamvis parvoli iocos cum voluptate audieras, saepius repete; potuisse illum implere spes tuas, quas paterna mente conceperas, audacter adfirma.

[23] Furthermore, speak about him frequently and celebrate his memory as much as you can; that memory will return to you the more often if it is going to come without acerbity; for no one willingly consorts with a sad person, still less with sadness itself. If you had heard any of his sayings, if any jests however tiny with pleasure, repeat them more often; boldly affirm that he could have fulfilled your hopes, which you had conceived with a paternal mind.

[24] Oblivisci quidem suorum ac memoriam cum corporibus efferre et effusissime flere, meminisse parcissime, inhumani animi est. Sic aves, sic ferae suos diligunt, quarum [contria] concitatus [actus] est amor et paene rabidus, sed cum amissis totus extinguitur. Hoc prudentem virum non decet: meminisse perseveret, lugere desinat.

[24] To forget, indeed, one’s own and to carry out their memory along with their bodies, and to weep most profusely but to remember most sparingly, is the mark of an inhuman mind. Thus birds, thus wild beasts love their own, whose love is [contria], an excited [impulse] and almost rabid, but when they are lost it is wholly extinguished. This does not befit a prudent man: let him persevere in remembering, let him cease from mourning.

[25] 'Illud nullo modo probo quod ait Metrodorus, esse aliquam cognatam tristitiae voluptatem, hanc esse captandam in eiusmodi tempore. Ipsa Metrodori verba subscripsi. Metrodoron epistolon pros ten adelphen.

[25] 'That I in no way approve which Metrodorus says, that there is some pleasure cognate to sadness, and that this is to be hunted for at a time of this sort. I have subjoined Metrodorus’s very words. Metrodorus, a letter to his sister.

estin gar tis hedone lupe suggenes, hen chre thereuein kata touton ton kairon.

for there is a certain pleasure kindred to grief, which one ought to hunt down at this time.

[26] De quibus non dubito quid sis sensurus; quid enim est turpius quam captare in ipso luctu voluptatem, immo per luctum, et inter lacrimas quoque quod iuvet quaerere? Hi sunt qui nobis obiciunt nimium rigorem et infamant praecepta nostra duritiae, quod dicamus dolorem aut admittendum in animum non esse aut cito expellendum. Utrum tandem est aut incredibilius aut inhumanius, non sentire amisso amico dolorem an voluptatem in ipso dolore aucupari?

[26] About which I do not doubt what you will be minded to feel; for what is more turpid than to snatch at pleasure in the very mourning—nay, through mourning—and even amid tears to seek what may please? These are the people who object to us excessive rigor and defame our precepts as hardness, because we say that grief ought either not to be admitted into the mind or to be expelled quickly. Which, then, is either more incredible or more inhuman: not to feel pain at a friend lost, or to go fowling for pleasure in the very pain?

[27] Nos quod praecipimus honestum est: cum aliquid lacrimarum adfectus effuderit et, ut ita dicam, despumaverit, non esse tradendum animum dolori. Quid, tu dicis miscendam ipsi dolori voluptatem? sic consolamur crustulo pueros, sic infantium fletum infuso lacte conpescimus.

[27] What we prescribe is honorable: when the affect has poured out some tears and, so to speak, has skimmed off its foam, the mind is not to be handed over to grief. What, do you say that pleasure must be mixed into the grief itself? Thus we console boys with a little cookie, thus we quell the weeping of infants by pouring in milk.

Ne illo quidem tempore quo filius ardet aut amicus expirat cessare pateris voluptatem, sed ipsum vis titillare maerorem? Utrum honestius dolor ab animo summovetur an voluptas ad dolorem quoque admittitur? "Admittitur" dico?

Not even at that time when a son is on the pyre or a friend expires do you allow pleasure to cease, but do you want to titillate grief itself? Which is more honorable: that grief be removed from the mind, or that pleasure be admitted even into grief? “Admitted,” do I say?

Captatur, et quidem ex ipso.

It is courted, and indeed from it itself.

[28] "Est aliqua" inquit "voluptas cognata tristitiae." Istuc nobis licet dicere, vobis quidem non licet. Unum bonum nostis, voluptatem, unum malum, dolorem: quae potest inter bonum et malum esse cognatio? Sed puta esse: nunc potissimum eruitur?

[28] "There is some," he says, "pleasure cognate to sadness." That we are permitted to say; for you, indeed, it is not permitted. You know one good, pleasure, and one evil, pain: what kinship can there be between good and evil? But suppose there is: is it now, of all times, that it is being unearthed?

Et ipsum dolorem scrutamur, an aliquid habeat iucundum circa se et voluptarium?

And we scrutinize pain itself, whether it has anything jocund about it and voluptuous?

[29] Quaedam remedia aliis partibus corporis salutaria velut foeda et indecora adhiberi aliis nequeunt, et quod aliubi prodesset sine damno verecundiae, id fit inhonestum loco vulneris: non te pudet luctum voluptate sanare? Severius ista plaga curanda est. Illud potius admone, nullum mali sensum ad eum qui perit pervenire; nam si pervenit, non perit.

[29] Certain remedies, salutary to some parts of the body, cannot be applied to others as if they were foul and indecorous, and what elsewhere would profit without damage to modesty becomes dishonorable by the locus of the wound: are you not ashamed to heal mourning with pleasure? That wound must be treated more severely. Rather admonish this: that no perception of evil reaches him who perishes; for if it reaches him, he does not perish.

[30] Nulla, inquam, res eum laedit qui nullus est: vivit si laeditur. Utrum putas illi male esse quod nullus est an quod est adhuc aliquis? Atqui nec ex eo potest ei tormentum esse quod non est (quis enim nullius sensus est?) nec ex eo quod est; effugit enim maximum mortis incommodum, non esse.

[30] No thing, I say, harms him who does not exist: he lives if he is harmed. Do you think it is bad for him because he does not exist, or because he is still someone? And yet neither can there be torment to him from that which is not (for who has a sense of nothing?) nor from that which is; for he has escaped the greatest inconvenience of death: not to be.

[31] Illud quoque dicamus ei qui deflet ac desiderat in aetate prima raptum: omnes, quantum ad brevitatem aevi, si universo compares, et iuvenes et senes, in aequo sumus. Minus enim ad nos ex aetate omni venit quam quod minimum esse quis dixerit, quoniam quidem minimum aliqua pars est: hoc quod vivimus proximum nihilo est; et tamen, o dementiam nostram, late disponitur.

[31] Let us also say this to him who weeps over and longs for one snatched away in the prime of life: as to the brevity of our lifetime, if you compare it with the universe, we all—both youths and elders—are on equal footing. For from the whole span of time there comes to us less than what someone would call the minimum, since indeed the minimum is some part: this life we live is proximate to nothing; and yet, O our madness, it is laid out far and wide.

[32] 'Haec tibi scripsi, non tamquam expectaturus esses remedium a me tam serum (liquet enim mihi te locutum tecum quidquid lecturus es) sed ut castigarem exiguam illam moram qua a te recessisti, et in reliquum adhortarer contra fortunam tolleres animos et omnia eius tela non tamquam possent venire sed tamquam utique essent ventura prospiceres. Vale.'

[32] 'I have written these things to you, not as though you were going to await from me a remedy so late (for it is clear to me that you have spoken with yourself whatever you are going to read), but in order that I might chasten that exiguous delay by which you withdrew from yourself, and for the future exhort you to lift up your spirits against Fortune and to foresee all her darts, not as though they could come, but as though they would assuredly come. Farewell.'

C. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

C. SENECA TO HIS OWN LUCILIUS, GREETINGS

[1] Fabiani Papiri libros qui inscribuntur civilium legisse te cupidissime scribis, et non respondisse expectationi tuae; deinde oblitus de philosopho agi compositionem eius accusas. Puta esse quod dicis et effundi verba, non figi. Primum habet ista res suam gratiam et est decor proprius orationis leniter lapsae; multum enim interesse existimo utrum exciderit an fluxerit. nunc quod in hoc quoque quod dicturus sum ingens differentia est:

[1] You write that you have most eagerly read the books of Papirius Fabianus which are inscribed “Civilia,” and that they did not respond to your expectation; then, forgetting that it is a philosopher that is at issue, you accuse his composition. Suppose it is as you say, and that the words are poured forth, not fixed. First, this matter has its own grace and is the proper decor of an oration gently gliding; for I consider it makes much difference whether it has fallen out or has flowed. now that in this too which I am going to say there is an immense difference:

[2] Fabianus mihi non effundere videtur orationem sed fundere; adeo larga est et sine perturbatione, non sine cursu tamen veniens. Illud plane fatetur et praefert, non esse tractatam nec diu tortam. Sed ita, ut vis, esse credamus: mores ille, non verba composuit et animis scripsit ista, non auribus.

[2] Fabianus does not seem to me to pour out his speech, but to pour it; so copious it is and without perturbation, yet coming not without a current. This indeed he openly confesses and puts forward: that it is not elaborated nor long tormented. But let us, as you wish, grant it to be so: he composed morals, not words, and he wrote these things for minds, not for ears.

[3] Praeterea ipso dicente non vacasset tibi partes intueri, adeo te summa rapuisset; et fere quae impetu placent minus praestant ad manum relata; sed illud quoque multum est, primo aspectu oculos occupasse, etiam si contemplatio diligens inventura est quod arguat.

[3] Moreover, while he himself was speaking, it would not have been vacant for you to look upon the parts, so much would the summa have snatched you away; and generally the things which please by impetus perform less when brought to hand; but this too counts for much, to have occupied the eyes at first aspect, even if diligent contemplation will find something to arraign.

[4] Si me interrogas, maior ille est qui iudicium abstulit quam qui meruit; et scio hunc tutiorem esse, scio audacius sibi de futuro promittere. Oratio sollicita philosophum non decet: ubi tandem erit fortis et constans, ubi periculum sui faciet qui timet verbis?

[4] If you ask me, greater is he who carried off the judgment than he who merited it; and I know this one to be safer, I know him to promise more boldly to himself about the future. A solicitous oration does not befit a philosopher: when at last will he be strong and constant, when will he incur peril to himself, he who is afraid of words?

[5] Fabianus non erat neglegens in oratione sed securus. Itaque nihil invenies sordidum: electa verba sunt, non captata, nec huius saeculi more contra naturam suam posita et inversa, splendida tamen quamvis sumantur e medio. Sensus honestos et magnificos habes, non coactos in sententiam sed latius dictos.

[5] Fabianus was not negligent in oration but secure. Therefore you will find nothing sordid: the words are selected, not hunted after, nor, in the fashion of this age, set and inverted against their own nature; yet they are splendid although taken from the common stock. You have sentiments honest and magnificent, not forced into an aphorism but expressed more broadly.

Videbimus quid parum recisum sit, quid parum structum, quid non huius recentis politurae: cum circumspexeris omnia, nullas videbis angustias inanis.

We shall see what has been too little pared, what has been too little structured, what is not of this recent polish: when you have looked around at everything, you will see no inane narrownesses.

[6] Desit sane varietas marmorum et concisura aquarum cubiculis interfluentium et pauperis cella et quidquid aliud luxuria non contenta decore simplici miscet: quod dici solet, domus recta est.

[6] Let there indeed be lacking the variety of marbles and the cutting/channeling of waters flowing through the bedchambers, and let there be a poor man’s cell, and whatever else luxury, not content with simple decor, mixes in: as the saying goes, the house is sound.

Adice nunc quod de compositione non constat: quidam illam volunt esse ex horrido comptam, quidam usque eo aspera gaudent ut etiam quae mollius casus explicuit ex industria dissipent et clausulas abrumpant ne ad expectatum respondeant.

Add now that there is no agreement about composition: some want it to be groomed out of the rough, others delight in harshness to such a degree that they even, by design, scatter what chance has unfolded more softly, and break off the clausulae, lest they answer to what is expected.

[7] Lege Ciceronem: compositio eius una est, pedem curvat lenta et sine infamia mollis. At contra Pollionis Asinii salebrosa et exiliens et ubi minime expectes relictura. Denique omnia apud Ciceronem desinunt, apud Pollionem cadunt, exceptis paucissimis quae ad certum modum et ad unum exemplar adstricta sunt.

[7] Read Cicero: his composition is one, it bends the foot, pliant and soft without stigma. But on the contrary Asinius Pollio’s is rugged and springing, and will leave you where you least expect. Finally, with Cicero everything ends; with Pollio everything falls—except for the very few which are constrained to a certain measure and to a single exemplar.

[8] Humilia praeterea tibi videri dicis omnia et parum erecta: quo vitio carere eum iudico. Non sunt enim illa humilia sed placida et ad animi tenorem quietum compositumque formata, nec depressa sed plana. Deest illis oratorius vigor stimulique quos quaeris et subiti ictus sententiarum; sed totum corpus, videris quam sit comptum, honestum est.

[8] Besides, you say that everything seems low to you and not sufficiently elevated: a fault from which I judge him to be free. For those things are not low but placid, and shaped to the tenor of a quiet and composed mind, not pressed down but level. They lack oratorical vigor and the goads you seek and the sudden strokes of sentences; but the whole body—you will see how well-groomed it is—is honorable.

Non habet oratio eius sed dabit dignitatem.

His oration does not have dignity, but it will give dignity.

[9] Adfer quem Fabiano possis praeponere. Dic Ciceronem, cuius libri ad philosophiam pertinentes paene totidem sunt quot Fabiani: cedam, sed non statim pusillum est si quid maximo minus est. Dic Asinium Pollionem: cedam, et respondeamus: in re tanta eminere est post duos esse.

[9] Bring forward someone whom you can set before Fabianus. Say Cicero, whose books pertaining to philosophy are almost as many as Fabianus’s: I will yield, but it is not straightway a petty thing if something is less than the greatest. Say Asinius Pollio: I will yield, and let us respond: in so great a matter, to be eminent is to be after two.

Nomina adhuc T. Livium; scripsit enim et dialogos, quos non magis philosophiae adnumerare possis quam historiae, et ex professo philosophiam continentis libros: huic quoque dabo locum. Vide tamen quam multos antecedat qui a tribus vincitur et tribus eloquentissimis.

Name still T. Livius; for he wrote both dialogues, which you could no more reckon to philosophy than to history, and books containing philosophy ex professo: to this man also I will give a place. See, however, how many he surpasses, who is beaten by three—and by three most eloquent.

[10] Sed non praestat omnia: non est fortis oratio eius, quamvis elata sit; non est violenta nec torrens, quamvis effusa sit; non est perspicua sed pura. 'Desideres' inquis 'contra vitia aliquid aspere dici, contra pericula animose, contra fortunam superbe, contra ambitionem contumeliose. Volo luxuriam obiurgari, libidinem traduci, inpotentiam frangi.

[10] But he does not excel in everything: his oration is not strong, although it is exalted; it is not violent nor torrential, although it is outpoured; it is not perspicuous but pure. 'You would desire,' you say, 'that something be said harshly against vices, spiritedly against perils, proudly against fortune, contumeliously against ambition. I want luxury to be upbraided, lust to be held up to ridicule, incontinence to be broken.'

Sit aliquid oratorie acre, tragice grande, comice exile.' Vis illum adsidere pusillae rei, verbis: ille rerum se magnitudini addixit, eloquentiam velut umbram non hoc agens trahit.

Let there be something oratorically sharp, tragically grand, comically slender. You want him to attend, in words, to a petty matter; he has devoted himself to the magnitude of things, and, not aiming at this, he draws eloquence along like a shadow.

[11] Non erunt sine dubio singula circumspecta nec in se collecta nec omne verbum excitabit ac punget, fateor; exibunt multa nec ferient et interdum otiosa praeterlabetur oratio, sed multum erit in omnibus lucis, sed ingens sine taedio spatium. Denique illud praestabit, ut liqueat tibi illum sensisse quae scripsit. Intelleges hoc actum ut tu scires quid illi placeret, non ut ille placeret tibi.

[11] The individual things, without doubt, will not be circumspect nor collected into themselves, nor will every word excite and prick, I admit; many things will go forth and not strike, and at times the oration will glide by idle; but there will be much of light in all, and an immense space without tedium. Finally, he will provide this, that it be clear to you that he felt what he wrote. You will understand this was done so that you might know what pleased him, not that he might please you.

Ad profectum omnia tendunt, ad bonam mentem: non quaeritur plausus.

Everything tends toward improvement, toward a good mind: applause is not sought.

[12] Talia esse scripta eius non dubito, etiam si magis reminiscor quam teneo haeretque mihi color eorum non ex recenti conversatione familiariter sed summatim, ut solet ex vetere notitia; cum audirem certe illum, talia mihi videbantur, non solida sed plena, quae adulescentem indolis bonae attollerent et ad imitationem sui evocarent sine desperatione vincendi, quae mihi adhortatio videtur efficacissima. Deterret enim qui imitandi cupiditatem fecit, spem abstulit. Ceterum verbis abundabat, sine commendatione partium singularum in universum magnificus.

[12] I do not doubt that his writings are such, even if I recollect more than I hold, and the color of them clings to me not from recent conversation familiarly but summarily, as is wont from old acquaintance; when I certainly used to hear him, such things seemed to me—not solid but full—things which would lift up a youth of good natural disposition and call him to imitation of himself without a despair of surpassing, which encouragement seems to me most efficacious. For he deters who has produced a desire of imitation and has removed hope. Moreover, he abounded in words, without commendation of the individual parts, in general magnificent.

Vale.

Farewell.