Seneca: EPISTULAE MORALES AD LUCILIUM

[1] Ex Nomentano meo te saluto et iubeo habere mentem bonam, hoc est propitios deos omnis, quos habet placatos et faventes quisquis sibi se propitiavit. Sepone in praesentia quae quibusdam placent, unicuique nostrum paedagogum dari deum, non quidem ordinarium, sed hunc inferioris notae ex eorum numero quos Ovidius ait 'de plebe deos'. Ita tamen hoc seponas volo ut memineris maiores nostros qui crediderunt Stoicos fuisse; singulis enim et Genium et Iunonem dederunt.

[1] From my Nomentanus estate I greet you and I bid you to have a good mind, that is, all the gods propitious—those whom whoever has propitiated himself has as placated and favoring. Set aside for the present the notion which pleases certain people, that to each of us a god is given as a pedagogue, not indeed an ordinary one, but one of inferior note from the number of those whom Ovid calls “gods of the plebs.” Yet I would have you set this aside in such a way that you remember that our ancestors who believed this were Stoics; for to individuals they assigned both a Genius and a Juno.

[2] Postea videbimus an tantum dis vacet ut privatorum negotia procurent: interim illud scito, sive adsignati sumus sive neglecti et fortunae dati, nulli te posse inprecari quicquam gravius quam si inprecatus fueris ut se habeat iratum. Sed non est quare cuiquam quem poena putaveris dignum optes ut infestos deos habeat: habet, inquam, etiam si videtur eorum favore produci.

[2] Afterwards we shall see whether the gods have so much leisure as to procure the affairs of private persons; meanwhile know this: whether we have been assigned or neglected and handed over to Fortune, you can imprecate nothing more grave upon anyone than if you have imprecated that he may have the god angry against him. But there is no reason why you should wish for anyone whom you have thought worthy of punishment to have the gods hostile: he has them, I say, even if he seems to be brought forward by their favor.

[3] Adhibe diligentiam tuam et intuere quid sint res nostrae, non quid vocentur, et scies plura mala contingere nobis quam accidere. Quotiens enim felicitatis et causa et initium fuit quod calamitas vocabatur! quotiens magna gratulatione excepta res gradum sibi struxit in praeceps et aliquem iam eminentem adlevavit etiamnunc, tamquam adhuc ibi staret unde tuto cadunt!

[3] Apply your diligence and look at what our affairs are, not what they are called, and you will know that more evils befall us than actually happen. For how often has that which was called a calamity been both the cause and the beginning of felicity! how often has a matter received with great congratulation built for itself a step into the precipice and lifted someone already eminent even now, as though he were still standing in that place whence people fall safely!

[4] Sed ipsum illud cadere non habet in se mali quicquam si exitum spectes, ultra quem natura neminem deiecit. Prope est rerum omnium terminus, prope est, inquam, et illud unde felix eicitur et illud unde infelix emittitur: nos utraque extendimus et longa spe ac metu facimus. Sed, si sapis, omnia humana condicione metire; simul et quod gaudes et quod times contrahe.

[4] But that very thing, to fall, has nothing of evil in itself if you look to the exit, beyond which nature has cast down no one. The terminus of all things is near; it is near, I say, both that whence the fortunate man is cast out and that whence the unfortunate is sent forth: we stretch both, and make them long by hope and fear. But, if you are wise, measure all human things by their condition; at the same time contract both what you rejoice in and what you fear.

Est autem tanti nihil diu gaudere ne quid diu timeas.

It is worth the price to rejoice in nothing for long, so that you may fear nothing for long.

[5] Sed quare istuc malum adstringo? Non est quod quicquam timendum putes: vana sunt ista quae nos movent, quae attonitos habent. Nemo nostrum quid veri esset excussit, sed metum alter alteri tradidit; nemo ausus est ad id quo perturbabatur accedere et naturam ac bonum timoris sui nosse.

[5] But why do I fasten that down as an evil? There is no reason for you to think that anything is to be feared: vain are those things which move us, which hold us thunderstruck. None of us has shaken out what of truth there was, but one has handed fear over to another; no one has dared to approach that by which he was perturbed and to know the nature and the good of his fear.

Itaque res falsa et inanis habet adhuc fidem quia non coarguitur.

Therefore the false and inane thing still has credence because it is not confuted.

[6] Tanti putemus oculos intendere: iam apparebit quam brevia, quam incerta, quam tuta timeantur. Talis est animorum nostrorum confusio qualis Lucretio visa est:

[6] Let us reckon it worth so much to fix our eyes: at once it will appear how brief, how uncertain, how safe are the things that are feared. Such is the confusion of our minds as appeared to Lucretius:

nam veluti pueri trepidant atque omnia caecis
in tenebris metuunt, ita nos in luce timemus.

for just as boys are in trepidation and fear all things in blind, tenebrous darkness,
so we in the light are afraid.

Quid ergo? non omni puero stultiores sumus qui in luce timemus?

What then? Are we not more foolish than every boy, we who fear in the light?

[7] Sed falsum est, Lucreti, non timemus in luce: omnia nobis fecimus tenebras. Nihil videmus, nec quid noceat nec quid expediat; tota vita incursitamus nec ob hoc resistimus aut circumspectius pedem ponimus. Vides autem quam sit furiosa res in tenebris impetus.

[7] But it is false, Lucretius, that we do not fear in the light: we have made all things darkness for ourselves. We see nothing, neither what may harm nor what may be expedient; our whole life long we rush headlong, nor on this account do we hold back or place the foot more circumspectly. You see, moreover, how furious a thing an impetus is in the dark.

At mehercules id agimus ut longius revocandi simus, et cum ignoremus quo feramur, velociter tamen illo quo intendimus perseveramus.

But, by Hercules, we do this, that we may be recalled from farther away, and though we are ignorant whither we are carried, nevertheless we swiftly persevere toward that which we intend.

[8] Sed lucescere, si velimus, potest. Uno autem modo potest, si quis hanc humanorum divinorumque notitiam [scientia] acceperit, si illa se non perfuderit sed infecerit, si eadem, quamvis sciat, retractaverit et ad se saepe rettulerit, si quaesierit quae sint bona, quae mala, quibus hoc falso sit nomen adscriptum, si quaesierit de honestis et turpibus, de providentia.

[8] But it can grow light, if we are willing. And it can in one way: if someone has received this knowledge of human and divine things [science], if he has not merely doused himself with it but has dyed himself in it, if, although he knows them, he has re-examined the same things and has often referred them to himself, if he has inquired what things are good, what bad, to which this name has been falsely ascribed, if he has inquired about the honorable and the base, about providence.

[9] Nec intra haec humani ingenii sagacitas sistitur: prospicere et ultra mundum libet, quo feratur, unde surrexerit, in quem exitum tanta rerum velocitas properet. Ab hac divina contemplatione abductum animum in sordida et humilia pertraximus, ut avaritiae serviret, ut relicto mundo terminisque eius et dominis cuncta versantibus terram rimaretur et quaereret quid ex illa mali effoderet, non contentus oblatis.

[9] Nor does the sagacity of human ingenuity halt within these: it is pleasing to look out even beyond the world, whither it is borne, whence it has arisen, to what outcome the so great velocity of things hastens. From this divine contemplation we have dragged the mind, abducted from it, down into sordid and low things, so that it might serve avarice; so that, the world and its boundaries and the lords who turn all things having been left behind, it might probe the earth and seek what evil it might dig out of it, not content with what is proffered.

[10] Quidquid nobis bono futurum erat deus et parens noster in proximo posuit; non expectavit inquisitionem nostram et ultro dedit: nocitura altissime pressit. Nihil nisi de nobis queri possumus: ea quibus periremus nolente rerum natura et abscondente protulimus. Addiximus animum voluptati, cui indulgere initium omnium malorum est, tradidimus ambitioni et famae, ceteris aeque vanis et inanibus.

[10] Whatever would be for our good, God and our parent placed close at hand; he did not wait for our inquiry and gave it unasked: the things that would harm he pressed down most deeply. We can complain of nothing except ourselves: those things by which we would perish, with the nature of things unwilling and hiding them, we brought forth. We have addicted our mind to pleasure, to indulge which is the beginning of all evils; we have handed it over to ambition and fame, the rest equally vain and empty.

[11] Quid ergo nunc te hortor ut facias? nihil novi — nec enim novis malis remedia quaeruntur - sed hoc primum, ut tecum ipse dispicias quid sit necessarium, quid supervacuum. Necessaria tibi ubique occurrent: supervacua et semper et toto animo quaerenda sunt.

[11] What then do I now urge you to do? nothing new — for remedies are not sought for new evils - but this first, that you consider with yourself what is necessary, what superfluous. The necessary will meet you everywhere: the superfluous must be sought both always and with your whole mind.

[12] Non est autem quod te nimis laudes si contempseris aureos lectos et gemmeam supellectilem; quae est enim virtus supervacua contemnere? Tunc te admirare cum contempseris necessaria. Non magnam rem facis quod vivere sine regio apparatu potes, quod non desideras milliarios apros nec linguas phoenicopterorum et alia portenta luxuriae iam tota animalia fastidientis et certa membra ex singulis eligentis: tunc te admirabor si contempseris etiam sordidum panem, si tibi persuaseris herbam, ubi necesse est, non pecori tantum sed homini nasci, si scieris cacumina arborum explementum esse ventris in quem sic pretiosa congerimus tamquam recepta servantem.

[12] But there is no reason for you to praise yourself too much if you have contemned golden couches and jeweled furnishings; for what virtue is it to contemn superfluities? Then admire yourself when you have contemned necessaries. You do no great thing in that you can live without regal apparatus, that you do not desire boars of a thousand pounds nor the tongues of flamingos and other portents of luxury, which now is nauseated by whole animals and selects certain limbs from each: then I shall admire you if you have contemned even coarse bread, if you have persuaded yourself that herb, where necessity calls, is born not only for the herd but for the human being, if you have known that the tree-tops are a fill for the belly into which we heap up such precious things as though it were keeping what it has received.

Sine fastidio implendus est; quid enim ad rem pertinet quid accipiat, perditurus quidquid acceperit?

It must be filled without fastidiousness; for what does it matter what it takes in, since it is going to lose whatever it has received?

[13] Delectant te disposita quae terra marique capiuntur, alia eo gratiora si recentia perferuntur ad mensam, alia si diu pasta et coacta pinguescere fluunt ac vix saginam continent suam; delectat te nitor horum arte quaesitus. At mehercules ista sollicite scrutata varieque condita, cum subierint ventrem, una atque eadem foeditas occupabit. Vis ciborum voluptatem contemnere?

[13] The arrayed delicacies which are taken on land and on sea delight you, some the more pleasing if, fresh, they are borne to the table, others if, long pastured and compelled to grow fat, they ooze and can scarcely contain their own fattening; the luster of these, sought by art, delights you. But, by Hercules, these things anxiously scrutinized and variously seasoned, when they have gone down into the belly, one and the same foulness will seize them. Do you wish to contemn the pleasure of foods?

exitum specta.

Look at the outcome.

[14] Attalum memini cum magna admiratione omnium haec dicere: 'diu' inquit 'mihi inposuere divitiae. Stupebam ubi aliquid ex illis alio atque alio loco fulserat; existimabam similia esse quae laterent his quae ostenderentur. Sed in quodam apparatu vidi totas opes urbis, caelata et auro et argento et iis quae pretium auri argentique vicerunt, exquisitos colores et vestes ultra non tantum nostrum sed ultra finem hostium advectas; hinc puerorum perspicuos cultu atque forma greges, hinc feminarum, et alia quae res suas recognoscens summi imperii fortuna protulerat.

[14] I remember Attalus, with the great admiration of all, saying these things: 'for a long time riches imposed upon me. I was stupefied whenever something of them flashed here and there; I supposed that the things which lay hidden were similar to those which were displayed. But in a certain apparatus I saw the entire wealth of the city—things chased, and in gold and in silver, and in those which have conquered the price of gold and silver—exquisite colors, and garments brought in from beyond not only our frontier but beyond the boundary of the enemies; here, conspicuous flocks of boys in their attire and beauty, there of women, and other things which Fortune of the highest imperium, recognizing her possessions, had brought forth.'

[15] "Quid hoc est" inquam "aliud inritare cupiditates hominum per se incitatas? quid sibi vult ista pecuniae pompa? ad discendam avaritiam convenimus?" At mehercules minus cupiditatis istinc effero quam adtuleram.

[15] "What is this," I say, "but to irritate the cupidities of men, incited of themselves? What does that pomp of money mean? Have we come together to learn avarice?" But, by Hercules, I carry out from there less cupidity than I had brought.

Contempsi divitias, non quia supervacuae sed quia pusillae sunt.

I contemned riches, not because they are superfluous, but because they are petty.

[16] Vidistine quam intra paucas horas ille ordo quamvis lentus dispositusque transierit? Hoc totam vitam nostram occupabit quod totum diem occupare non potuit? Accessit illud quoque: tam supervacuae mihi visae sunt habentibus quam fuerunt spectantibus.

[16] Have you seen how within a few hours that procession, however slow and well-arranged, has passed by? Will this occupy our whole life which could not occupy a whole day? There was this in addition as well: they seemed to me just as superfluous to the possessors as they were to the spectators.

[17] Hoc itaque ipse mihi dico quotiens tale aliquid praestrinxerit oculos meos, quotiens occurrit domus splendida, cohors culta servorum, lectica formonsis inposita calonibus: "quid miraris? quid stupes? pompa est.

[17] Therefore this I say to myself whenever something of this kind has dazzled my eyes, whenever a splendid house meets me, a well-groomed cohort of slaves, a litter borne by handsome lackeys: "why do you marvel? why are you stupefied? it is pomp.

Ostenduntur istae res, non possidentur, et dum placent transeunt".

These things are displayed, they are not possessed, and while they please they pass by".

[18] Ad veras potius te converte divitias; disce parvo esse contentus et illam vocem magnus atque animosus exclama: habemus aquam, habemus polentam; Iovi ipsi controversiam de felicitate faciamus. Faciamus, oro te, etiam si ista defuerint; turpe est beatam vitam in auro et argento reponere, aeque turpe in aqua et polenta. "Quid ergo faciam si ista non fuerint?"

[18] Turn yourself rather to true riches; learn to be content with little, and cry out that utterance, great and high‑spirited: we have water, we have polenta; let us make with Jupiter himself a controversy about felicity. Let us do so, I beg you, even if those things are lacking; it is disgraceful to set the blessed life in gold and silver, and equally disgraceful in water and polenta. "What therefore shall I do if these things are not at hand?"

[19] Quaeris quod sit remedium inopiae? Famem fames finit: alioquin quid interest magna sint an exigua quae servire te cogant? quid refert quantulum sit quod tibi possit negare fortuna?

[19] You ask what the remedy for want is? Hunger ends hunger; otherwise, what difference does it make whether the things that compel you to serve are great or small? what does it matter how very little that is which Fortune can deny you?

[20] Haec ipsa aqua et polenta in alienum arbitrium cadit; liber est autem non in quem parum licet fortunae, sed in quem nihil. Ita est: nihil desideres oportet si vis Iovem provocare nihil desiderantem.'

[20] This very water and polenta fall under another’s control; but the free man is not the one over whom Fortune has little license, but the one over whom she has none. So it is: you ought to desire nothing if you wish to challenge Jove, who desires nothing.'

Haec nobis Attalus dixit, natura omnibus dixit; quae si voles frequenter cogitare, id ages ut sis felix, non ut videaris, et ut tibi videaris, non aliis. Vale.

These things Attalus said to us, nature said to all; if you are willing to think on them frequently, you will act so as to be happy, not to appear so, and to appear so to yourself, not to others. Farewell.

CXI. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

111. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETINGS

[1] Quid vocentur Latine sophismata quaesisti a me. Multi temptaverunt illis nomen inponere, nullum haesit; videlicet, quia res ipsa non recipiebatur a nobis nec in usu erat, nomini quoque repugnatum est. Aptissimum tamen videtur mihi quo Cicero usus est: 'cavillationes' vocat.

[1] You asked me what “sophismata” are called in Latin. Many have tried to impose a name on them; none stuck—evidently, because the thing itself was not accepted among us nor was it in use, resistance was shown to the name as well. Nevertheless, the most fitting seems to me the one Cicero used: he calls them ‘cavillations.’

[2] Quibus quisquis se tradidit quaestiunculas quidem vafras nectit, ceterum ad vitam nihil proficit: neque fortior fit neque temperantior neque elatior. At ille qui philosophiam in remedium suum exercuit ingens fit animo, plenus fiduciae, inexsuperabilis et maior adeunti.

[2] Whoever has delivered himself over to these indeed weaves wily little questions, but he profits nothing for life: he becomes neither stronger nor more temperate nor more exalted. But he who has exercised philosophy as his own remedy becomes immense in spirit, full of confidence, insuperable, and greater to the one approaching.

[3] Quod in magnis evenit montibus, quorum proceritas minus apparet longe intuentibus: cum accesseris, tunc manifestum fit quam in arduo summa sint. Talis est, mi Lucili, verus et rebus, non artificiis philosophus. In edito stat, admirabilis, celsus, magnitudinis verae; non exsurgit in plantas nec summis ambulat digitis eorum more qui mendacio staturam adiuvant longioresque quam sunt videri volunt; contentus est magnitudine sua.

[3] What happens with great mountains, whose height seems less to those looking from afar: when you have approached, then it becomes manifest how steep the summits are. Such is, my Lucilius, the philosopher who is true and of realities, not of artifices. He stands on a height, admirable, lofty, of true magnitude; he does not rear up on his soles nor walk on the tips of his toes in the manner of those who help their stature by a falsehood and wish to seem taller than they are; he is content with his own magnitude.

[4] Quidni contentus sit eo usque crevisse quo manus fortuna non porrigit? Ergo et supra humana est et par sibi in omni statu rerum, sive secundo cursu vita procedit, sive fluctuatur et per adversa ac difficilia: hanc constantiam cavillationes istae de quibus paulo ante loquebar praestare non possunt. Ludit istis animus, non proficit, et philosophiam a fastigio suo deducit in planum.

[4] Why should he not be content to have grown up to that point to which the hand of Fortune does not reach? Therefore he is both above human things and equal to himself in every condition of affairs, whether life proceeds with a favorable course, or fluctuates and goes through adverse and difficult things: this constancy those cavillations, of which I was speaking a little before, cannot furnish. The mind plays with those, it does not make progress, and it brings philosophy down from its pinnacle into the level plain.

[5] Nec te prohibuerim aliquando ista agere, sed tunc cum voles nihil agere. Hoc tamen habent in se pessimum: dulcedinem quandam sui faciunt et animum specie subtilitatis inductum tenent ac morantur, cum tanta rerum moles vocet, cum vix tota vita sufficiat ut hoc unum discas, vitam contemnere. 'Quid regere?' inquis.

[5] Nor would I prohibit you from doing those things at some time, but then when you want to do nothing. Yet they have this as their worst feature: they make a certain sweetness of themselves and, the mind induced by the semblance of subtlety, they hold it fast and delay it, when so great a mass of matters calls, when scarcely a whole life suffices that you may learn this one thing, to contemn life. 'To rule what?' you ask.

Secundum opus est; nam nemo illam bene rexit nisi qui contempserat. Vale.

It is a secondary work; for no one has ruled it well except one who has contemned it. Farewell.

CXII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

112. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Cupio mehercules amicum tuum formari ut desideras etinstitui, sed valde durus capitur; immo, quod est molestius, valde mollis capitur et consuetudine mala ac diutina fractus. Volo tibi ex nostro artificio exemplum referre.

[1] I desire, by Hercules, that your friend be formed as you wish and be instructed; but he is very hard to handle—nay, what is more troublesome, very soft to handle—and broken by evil and long-continued custom. I want to bring you an example from our craft.

[2] Non quaelibet insitionem vitis patitur: si vetus et exesa est, si infirma gracilisque, aut non recipiet surculum aut non alet nec adplicabit sibi nec in qualitatem eius naturamque transibit. Itaque solemus supra terram praecidere ut, si non respondit, temptari possit secunda fortuna et iterum repetita infra terram inseratur.

[2] Not every vine endures grafting: if it is old and eaten out, if weak and slender, it will either not receive the scion or will not nourish it, nor will it fasten it to itself, nor pass over into its quality and nature. And so we are accustomed to cut it back above the ground so that, if it does not respond, a second chance of fortune may be tried, and, the attempt repeated, it may be inserted below the ground.

[3] Hic de quo scribis et mandas non habet vires: indulsit vitiis. Simul et emarcuit et induruit; non potest recipere rationem, non potest nutrire. 'At cupit ipse.' Noli credere.

[3] This man about whom you write and commend does not have the strength: he has indulged his vices. At once he has both withered and hardened; he cannot receive reason, he cannot nourish it. 'But he himself desires it.' Do not believe it.

Non dico illum mentiri tibi: putat se cupere. Stomachum illi fecit luxuria: cito cum illa redibit in gratiam.

I do not say that he is lying to you: he thinks he desires. Luxury has caused him disgust; he will quickly return into favor with her.

[4] 'Sed dicit se offendi vita sua.' Non negaverim; quis enim non offenditur? Homines vitia sua et amant simul et oderunt. Tunc itaque de illo feremus sententiam cum fidem nobis fecerit invisam iam sibi esse luxuriam: nunc illis male convenit.

[4] 'But he says he is offended by his life.' I would not deny it; for who is not offended? Men both love and hate their vices at the same time. Therefore we shall deliver a judgment about him when he has given us proof that luxury is by now hateful to himself: for the present the two fit together badly.

Vale.

Farewell.

CXIII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

113. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Desideras tibi scribi a me quid sentiam de hac quaestione iactata apud nostros, an iustitia, fortitudo, prudentia ceteraeque virtutes animalia sint. Hac subtilitate effecimus, Lucili carissime, ut exercere ingenium inter inrita videremur et disputationibus nihil profuturis otium terere. Faciam quod desideras et quid nostris videatur exponam; sed me in alia esse sententia profiteor: puto quaedam esse quae deceant phaecasiatum palliatumque.

[1] You desire to have written to you by me what I think about this question bandied about among our people, whether justice, fortitude, prudence, and the other virtues are animals. By this subtlety we have brought it about, dearest Lucilius, that we seem to exercise our ingenium among vain things and to waste our otium on disputations that will profit nothing. I will do what you desire and set forth what seems to our people; but I profess that I am of another opinion: I think there are certain matters that befit the slippered and pallium-clad.

Quae sint ergo quae antiquos moverint vel quae sint quae antiqui moverint dicam.

Therefore I will say what things moved the ancients, or what things the ancients moved.

[2] Animum constat animal esse, cum ipse efficiat ut simus animalia, cum ab illo animalia nomen hoc traxerint; virtus autem nihil aliud est quam animus quodam modo se habens; ergo animal est. Deinde virtus agit aliquid; agi autem nihil sine impetu potest; si impetum habet, qui nulli est nisi animali, animal est.

[2] It is agreed that the mind is an animate being (animal), since it itself brings it about that we are animals, since animals have drawn this name from it; but virtue is nothing other than the mind being in a certain state; therefore it is an animate being. Next, virtue does something; yet nothing can act without an impulse; if it has impulse—which belongs to none except an animal—it is an animate being.

[3] 'Si animal est' inquit 'virtus, habet ipsa virtutem.' Quidni habeat se ipsam? quomodo sapiens omnia per virtutem gerit, sic virtus per se. 'Ergo' inquit 'et omnes artes animalia sunt et omnia quae cogitamus quaeque mente conplectimur. Sequitur ut multa millia animalium habitent in his angustiis pectoris, et singuli multa simus animalia aut multa habeamus animalia.' Quaeris quid adversus istud respondeatur?

[3] 'If virtue is an animal,' he says, 'it has virtue itself.' Why should it not have itself? just as the wise man does all things through virtue, so virtue by itself. 'Therefore,' he says, 'both all the arts are animals, and all the things that we think and that we comprehend with the mind. It follows that many thousands of animals inhabit these narrow confines of the breast, and that each of us is many animals or has many animals.' You ask what is answered against this?

Unaquaeque ex istis res animal erit: multa animalia non erunt. Quare? dicam, si mihi accommodaveris subtilitatem et intentionem tuam.

Each one of those things will be an animal; there will not be many animals. Why? I will say, if you lend me your subtlety and your attention.

[4] Singula animalia singulas habere debent substantias; ista omnia unum animum habent; itaque singula esse possunt, multa esse non possunt. Ego et animal sum et homo, non tamen duos esse nos dices. Quare?

[4] Individual animals ought to have individual substances; all those things have one soul; and so they can be single, they cannot be many. I am both an animal and a man, yet you will not say that we are two. Why?

quia separati debent esse. Ita dico: alter ab altero debet esse diductus ut duo sint. Quidquid in uno multiplex est sub unam naturam cadit; itaque unum est.

because they ought to be separate. Thus I say: the one ought to be drawn apart from the other so that they may be two. Whatever is multiple within one falls under one nature; and so it is one.

[5] Et animus meus animal est et ego animal sum, duo tamen non sumus. Quare? quia animus mei pars est.

[5] And my soul is an animal and I am an animal, yet we are not two. Why? because the soul is a part of me.

Tunc aliquid per se numerabitur cum per se stabit; ubi vero alterius membrum erit, non poterit videri aliud. Quare? dicam: quia quod aliud est suum oportet esse et proprium et totum et intra se absolutum.

Then something will be numbered per se when it stands per se; but when it will be a member of another, it will not be able to be seen as other. Why? I will say: because that which is other ought to be its own, and proper, and whole, and absolute within itself.

[6] Ego in alia esse me sententia professus sum; non enim tantum virtutes animalia erunt, si hoc recipitur, sed opposita quoque illis vitia et adfectus, tamquam ira, timor, luctus, suspicio. Ultra res ista procedet: omnes sententiae, omnes cogitationes animalia erunt. Quod nullo modo recipiendum est; non enim quidquid ab homine fit homo est.

[6] I have professed that I am of another opinion; for not only will the virtues be animals, if this is admitted, but the vices opposed to them and the affections as well, such as anger, fear, grief, suspicion. The matter will go further: all opinions, all cogitations will be animals. This is in no way to be accepted; for not everything that is done by a human is a human.

[7] 'Iustitia quid est?' inquit. Animus quodam modo se habens. 'Itaque si animus animal est, et iustitia.' Minime; haec enim habitus animi est et quaedam vis.

[7] 'What is justice?' he says. A mind in a certain way holding itself. 'Therefore, if the mind is an animal, justice is too.' By no means; for this is a habit of the mind and a certain force.

Idem animus in varias figuras convertitur et non totiens animal aliud est quotiens aliud facit; nec illud quod fit ab animo animal est.

The same mind is converted into various figures, and it is not another animal as many times as it does something different; nor is that which is produced by the mind an animal.

[8] iustitia animal est, fortitudo, si ceterae virtutes, utrum desinunt esse animalia subinde aut rursus incipiunt, an semper sunt? desinere virtutes non possunt. Ergo multa animalia, immo innumerabilia, in hoc animo versantur.

[8] justice is an animal, fortitude, if the other virtues, do they cease to be animals from time to time and then begin again, or are they always so? Virtues cannot cease. Therefore many animals—nay, innumerable—are engaged within this mind.

[9] 'Non sunt' inquit 'multa, quia ex uno religata sunt et partes unius ac membra sunt.' Talem ergo faciem animi nobis proponimus qualis est hydrae multa habentis capita, quorum unumquodque per se pugnat, per se nocet. Atqui nullum ex illis capitibus animal est, sed animalis caput: ceterum ipsa unum animal est. Nemo in Chimaera leonem animal esse dixit aut draconem: hae partes erant eius; partes autem non sunt animalia.

[9] 'They are not,' he says, 'many, because they are bound together out of one and are parts of one and its members.' Thus we set before ourselves such an aspect of the mind as that of the Hydra having many heads, each of which fights on its own, harms on its own. And yet none of those heads is an animal, but the head of an animal: moreover, the creature itself is one animal. No one said, in the case of the Chimaera, that the lion was an animal or the dragon: these were its parts; but parts are not animals.

[10] Quid est quo colligas iustitiam animal esse? 'Agit' inquit 'aliquid et prodest; quod autem agit et prodest impetum habet; animal est.' Verum est si suum impetum habet; sed animi.

[10] What is there by which you infer that justice is an animal? 'It acts,' he says, 'in some way and benefits; but what acts and benefits has an impulse; is an animal.' It is true, if it has its own impulse; rather that of the mind.

[11] Omne animal donec moriatur id est quod coepit: homo donec moriatur homo est, equus equus, canis canis; transire in aliud non potest. Iustitia, id est animus quodam modo se habens, animal est. Credamus: deinde animal est fortitudo, id est animus quodam modo se habens.

[11] Every animal, until it dies, is that which it began: a man, until he dies, is a man; a horse, a horse; a dog, a dog; it cannot pass over into another thing. Justice, that is, a mind in a certain manner disposed, is an animal. Let us grant it; then fortitude, that is, a mind in a certain manner disposed, is an animal.

Quis animus? ille qui modo iustitia erat? Tenetur in priore animali, in aliud animal transire ei non licet; in eo illi in quo primum esse coepit perseverandum est.

Which mind? The one that just now was justice? It is confined in the prior animal; it is not permitted for it to pass into another animal; in that one in which it first began to be it must persevere.

[12] Praeterea unus animus duorum esse animalium non potest, multo minus plurium. Si iustitia, fortitudo, temperantia ceteraeque virtutes animalia sunt, quomodo unum animum habebunt? singulos habeant oportet, aut non sunt animalia.

[12] Furthermore, one mind cannot belong to two animals, much less to more. If justice, fortitude, temperance, and the other virtues are animals, how will they have one mind? They must have individual ones, or they are not animals.

[13] Non potest unum corpus plurium animalium esse. Hoc et ipsi fatentur. Iustitiae quod est corpus?

[13] One body cannot be of several animals. This even they themselves admit. What body does Justice have?

'Animus'. Quid? fortitudinis quod est corpus? 'Idem animus'. Atqui unum corpus esse duorum animalium non potest.

'The soul.' What? what is the body of fortitude? 'The same soul.' But indeed one body cannot belong to two animals.

[14] 'Sed idem animus' inquit 'iustitiae habitum induit et fortitudinis et temperantiae.' Hoc fieri posset si quo tempore iustitia esset fortitudo non esset, quo tempore fortitudo esset temperantia non esset; nunc vero omnes virtutes simul sunt. Ita quomodo singulae erunt animalia, cum unus animus sit, qui plus quam unum animal non potest facere?

[14] 'But,' he says, 'the same mind puts on the habit of justice and of fortitude and of temperance.' This could happen if, at the time when justice was, fortitude was not; at the time when fortitude was, temperance was not; but as it is, all the virtues are together at the same time. Thus how will the individual ones be animals, since there is one mind, which cannot make more than one animal?

[15] Denique nullum animal pars est alterius animalis; iustitia autem pars est animi; non est ergo animal.

[15] Finally, no animal is a part of another animal; but justice is a part of the mind; therefore it is not an animal.

Videor mihi in re confessa perdere operam; magis enim indignandum de isto quam disputandum est. Nullum animal alteri par est. Circumspice omnium corpora: nulli non et color proprius est et figura sua et magnitudo.

I seem to myself to be wasting effort on a matter confessed; for there is more occasion for indignation about that fellow than for disputation. No animal is equal to another. Look around at the bodies of all: each has its proper color, its own figure, and its magnitude.

[16] Inter cetera propter quae mirabile divini artificis ingenium est hoc quoque existimo esse, quod in tanta copia rerum numquam in idem incidit; etiam quae similia videntur, cum contuleris, diversa sunt. Tot fecit genera foliorum: nullum non sua proprietate signatum; tot animalia: nullius magnitudo cum altero convenit, utique aliquid interest. Exegit a se ut quae alia erant et dissimilia essent et inparia.

[16] Among the other things on account of which the genius of the divine artisan is marvelous, I also reckon this: that in so great an abundance of things it never falls into the same; even those which seem similar, when you have compared them, are different. He made so many kinds of leaves: not one is not marked with its own propriety; so many animals: the magnitude of none agrees with that of another—assuredly there is some difference. He exacted of himself that things which were other should be both dissimilar and unequal.

Virtutes omnes, ut dicitis, pares sunt; ergo non sunt animalia.

All virtues, as you say, are equal; therefore they are not animals.

[17] Nullum non animal per se agit; virtus autem per se nihil agit, sed cum homine. Omnia animalia aut rationalia sunt, ut homines, ut dii, ; virtutes utique rationales sunt; atqui nec homines sunt nec dii; ergo non sunt animalia.

[17] No animal fails to act by itself; but virtue by itself does nothing, rather with a human. All animals are either rational, as humans, as gods, ; virtues, to be sure, are rational; and yet they are neither humans nor gods; therefore they are not animals.

[18] Omne rationale animal nihil agit nisi primum specie alicuius rei inritatum est, deinde impetum cepit, deinde adsensio confirmavit hunc impetum. Quid sit adsensio dicam. Oportet me ambulare: tunc demum ambulo cum hoc mihi dixi et adprobavi hanc opinionem meam; oportet me sedere: tunc demum sedeo.

[18] Every rational animal does nothing unless first it has been provoked by the appearance of some thing, then it has taken an impulse, then assent has confirmed this impulse. I will say what assent is. I ought to walk: then at last I walk when I have said this to myself and have approved this my opinion; I ought to sit: then at last I sit.

Haec adsensio in virtute non est.

This assent is not in virtue.

[19] Puta enim prudentiam esse: quomodo adsentietur 'oportet me ambulare'? Hoc natura non recipit. Prudentia enim ei cuius est prospicit, non sibi; nam nec ambulare potest nec sedere. Ergo adsensionem non habet; quod adsensionem non habet rationale animal non est.

[19] Suppose, for instance, that it is prudence: how will it assent to 'I ought to walk'? Nature does not admit this. For prudence looks out for the one to whom it belongs, not for itself; for it can neither walk nor sit. Therefore it does not have assent; and whatever does not have assent is not a rational animal.

Virtus si animal est, rationale est; rationale autem non est; ergo nec animal.

If virtue is an animal, it is rational; but it is not rational; therefore neither is it an animal.

[20] Si virtus animal est, virtus autem bonum omnest, omne bonum animal est. Hoc nostri fatentur. Patrem servare bonum est, et sententiam prudenter in senatu dicere bonum est, et iuste decernere bonum est; ergo et patrem servare animal est et prudenter sententiam dicere animal est.

[20] If virtue is an animal, but virtue is a good, every good is an animal. Our people admit this. To save one’s father is a good, and to speak one’s opinion prudently in the senate is a good, and to decide justly is a good; therefore both to save one’s father is an animal and to speak an opinion prudently is an animal.

Eo usque res ~exegit~ ut risum tenere non possis: prudenter tacere bonum est, <* * * cenare bonum est>; ita et tacere et cenare animal est.

The matter has ~driven~ so far that you cannot hold back laughter: to be prudently silent is good, <* * * to dine is good>; thus both to be silent and to dine is an animal.

[21] Ego mehercules titillare non desinam et ludos mihi ex istis subtilibus ineptiis facere. Iustitia et fortitudo, si animalia sunt, certe terrestria sunt; omne animal terrestre alget, esurit, sitit; ergo iustitia alget, fortitudo esurit, clementia sitit.

[21] I, by Hercules, will not cease to be tickled and to make sport for myself out of these subtle inanities. Justice and fortitude, if they are animals, are certainly terrestrial; every terrestrial animal grows cold, hungers, thirsts; therefore justice grows cold, fortitude hungers, clemency thirsts.

[22] Quid porro? non interrogabo illos quam figuram habeant ista animalia? hominis an equi an ferae?

[22] What further? Shall I not ask them what figure those animals have? Of a man or of a horse or of a wild beast?

Si rotundam illis qualem deo dederint, quaeram an et avaritia et luxuria et dementia aeque rotundae sint; sunt enim et ipsae animalia. Si has quoque conrotundaverint, etiamnunc interrogabo an prudens ambulatio animal sit. Necesse est confiteantur, deinde dicant ambulationem animal esse et quidem rotundum.

If they assign to them a spherical form such as they have given to God, I will ask whether avarice and luxury and dementia are equally spherical; for they too are animals. If they round these off as well, even now I will ask whether prudent walking is an animal. They must confess it, and then say that walking is an animal, and indeed a round one.

[23] Ne putes autem primum ex nostris non ex praescripto loqui sed meae sententiae esse, inter Cleanthen et discipulum eius Chrysippum non convenit quid sit ambulatio. Cleanthes ait spiritum esse a principali usque in pedes permissum, Chrysippus ipsum principale. Quid est ergo cur non ipsius Chrysippi exemplo sibi quisque se vindicet et ista tot animalia quot mundus ipse non potest capere derideat?

[23] Do not think, however, first, that I——of our school, am speaking not according to the prescript but from my own opinion; between Cleanthes and his disciple Chrysippus there is no agreement as to what walking is. Cleanthes says it is the spirit permitted from the principal (ruling part) down to the feet; Chrysippus [says it is] the principal itself. What reason is there, then, why, by the example of Chrysippus himself, each person should not lay claim to himself and deride those so many animals as the world itself cannot contain?

[24] 'Non sunt' inquit 'virtutes multa animalia, et tamen animalia sunt. Nam quemadmodum aliquis et poeta est et orator, et tamen unus, sic virtutes istae animalia sunt sed multa non sunt. Idem est animus et animus et iustus et prudens et fortis, ad singulas virtutes quodam modo se habens.'

[24] 'They are not,' he says, 'the virtues many animals, and yet they are animals. For just as someone is both a poet and an orator, and yet one, so these virtues are animals but they are not many. The same is the mind both as mind and as just and prudent and brave, comporting itself in a certain way toward each single virtue.'

[25] Sublata * * * convenit nobis. Nam et ego interim fateor animum animal esse, postea visurus quam de ista re sententiam feram: actiones eius animalia esse nego. Alioqui et omnia verba erunt animalia et omnes versus.

[25] Removed * * * we are in agreement. For I too meanwhile admit the mind to be an animal, afterwards intending to see before I give a judgment about that matter: I deny that its actions are animals. Otherwise even all words will be animals and all verses.

Nam si prudens sermo bonum est, bonum autem omne animal est, <sermo animal est>. Prudens versus bonum est, bonum autem omne animal est; versus ergo animal est. Ita

For if prudent discourse is a good, and every good is an animal, <discourse is an animal>. A prudent verse is a good, and every good is an animal; therefore a verse is an animal. Thus

arma virumque cano

i sing of arms and of the man

animal est, quod non possunt rotundum dicere cum sex pedes habeat.

it is an animal, which they cannot call rotund when it has six feet.

[26] 'Textorium' inquis 'totum mehercules istud quod cum maxime agitur.' Dissilio risu cum mihi propono soloecismum animal esse et barbarismum et syllogismum et aptas illis facies tamquam pictor adsigno. Haec disputamus attractis superciliis, fronte rugosa? Non possum hoc loco dicere illud Caelianum: 'o tristes ineptias!' Ridiculae sunt.

[26] 'Weaving-work,' you say, 'the whole, by Hercules, of that which is at this very moment being carried on.' I burst with laughter when I set before myself solecism, barbarism, and syllogism as animals, and, like a painter, assign to them fitting faces. Do we debate these things with eyebrows drawn together, with a wrinkled brow? I cannot in this place say that Caelian phrase: 'o sad sillinesses!' They are laughable.

Quin itaque potius aliquid utile nobis ac salutare tractamus et quaerimus quomodo ad virtutes pervenire possimus, quae nos ad illas via adducat?

Why, then, do we not rather discuss something useful and salutary for us and inquire how we may attain to the virtues, what way may lead us to them?

[27] Doce me non an fortitudo animal sit, sed nullum animal felix esse sine fortitudine, nisi contra fortuita convaluit et omnis casus antequam exciperet meditando praedomuit. Quid est fortitudo? Munimentum humanae imbecillitatis inexpugnabile, quod qui circumdedit sibi securus in hac vitae obsidione perdurat; utitur enim suis viribus, suis telis.

[27] Teach me not whether fortitude is an animal, but that no animal is happy without fortitude, unless it has grown strong against fortuitous things and has by meditating pre‑subdued all chances before it met them. What is fortitude? An inexpugnable muniment of human imbecility, which whoever has girded around himself endures secure in this siege of life; for he uses his own strengths, his own weapons.

[28] Hoc loco tibi Posidonii nostri referre sententiam volo: 'non est quod umquam fortunae armis putes esse te tutum: tuis pugna. Contra ipsam fortuna non armat; itaque contra hostes instructi, contra ipsam inermes sunt.'

[28] At this point I wish to report to you the opinion of our Posidonius: 'there is no reason for you ever to think yourself safe by the arms of Fortune: fight with your own. Against herself Fortune does not arm; and so, though equipped against enemies, against her they are unarmed.'

[29] Alexander Persas quidem et Hyrcanos et Indos et quidquid gentium usque in oceanum extendit oriens vastabat fugabatque, sed ipse modo occiso amico, modo amisso, iacebat in tenebris, alias scelus, alias desiderium suum maerens, victor tot regum atque populorum irae tristitiaeque succumbens; id enim egerat ut omnia potius haberet in potestate quam adfectus.

[29] Alexander was devastating and putting to flight the Persians, the Hyrcanians, the Indians, and whatever peoples the East extends as far as the Ocean; but he himself, now with a friend slain, now with one lost, was lying in darkness, at one time lamenting his crime, at another his longing, the victor of so many kings and peoples succumbing to anger and sadness; for he had brought it about that he had everything rather in his power than his affections.

[30] O quam magnis homines tenentur erroribus qui ius dominandi trans maria cupiunt permittere felicissimosque se iudicant si multas [pro] milite provincias obtinent et novas veteribus adiungunt, ignari quod sit illud ingens parque dis regnum: imperare sibi maximum imperium est.

[30] O by how great errors men are held, who desire to send the right of dominion across the seas and judge themselves most felicitous if they hold many provinces by soldiery and join new ones to the old, ignorant what that vast realm, on a par with the gods, is: to command oneself is the greatest imperium.

[31] Doceat me quam sacra res sit iustitia alienum bonum spectans, nihil ex se petens nisi usum sui. Nihil sit illi cum ambitione famaque: sibi placeat. Hoc ante omnia sibi quisque persuadeat: me iustum esse gratis oportet.

[31] Let it teach me how sacred a thing justice is, looking to another’s good, seeking nothing for itself except the use of itself. Let it have nothing to do with ambition and fame: let it please itself. Before all things let each person persuade himself of this: that I ought to be just gratis.

Parum est. Adhuc illud persuadeat sibi: me in hanc pulcherrimam virtutem ultro etiam inpendere iuvet; tota cogitatio a privatis commodis quam longissime aversa sit. Non est quod spectes quod sit iustae rei praemium: maius in iusto est.

It is not enough. Let him further persuade himself of this: that it should delight me to expend myself upon this most beautiful virtue of my own accord as well; let the whole cogitation be turned as far as possible away from private advantages. There is no reason for you to look to what the reward of a just matter may be: the greater lies in the just act.

[32] Illud adhuc tibi adfige quod paulo ante dicebam, nihil ad rem pertinere quam multi aequitatem tuam noverint. Qui virtutem suam publicari vult non virtuti laborat sed gloriae. Non vis esse iustus sine gloria?

[32] Affix this still to yourself, which I was saying a little before: it does not pertain to the matter how many know your equity. He who wants his virtue to be publicized labors not for virtue but for glory. Do you not wish to be just without glory?

at mehercules saepe iustus esse debebis cum infamia, et tunc, si sapis, mala opinio bene parta delectet. Vale.

But, by Hercules, you will often have to be just together with infamy, and then, if you are wise, let an ill opinion, well-earned, delight you. Farewell.

CXIV. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

114. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Quare quibusdam temporibus provenerit corrupti generis oratio quaeris et quomodo in quaedam vitia inclinatio ingeniorum facta sit, ut aliquando inflata explicatio vigeret, aliquando infracta et in morem cantici ducta; quare alias sensus audaces et fidem egressi placuerint, alias abruptae sententiae et suspiciosae, in quibus plus intellegendum esset quam audiendum; quare aliqua aetas fuerit quae translationis iure uteretur inverecunde. Hoc quod audire vulgo soles, quod apud Graecos in proverbium cessit: talis hominibus fuit oratio qualis vita.

[1] You ask why at certain times an oration of a corrupt kind has prospered, and how a bending of talents into certain vices has come about, so that at one time an inflated explication might thrive, at another a broken one and drawn out in the manner of a chant; why at one time bold thoughts and those that have gone beyond credibility have pleased, at another abrupt and suspect sentences, in which more was to be understood than to be heard; why there was some age which used, shamelessly, the right of transference (metaphor). This thing which you are wont commonly to hear, which among the Greeks has passed into a proverb: such was men’s speech as was their life.

[2] Quemadmodum autem uniuscuiusque actio ~dicendi~ similis est, sic genus dicendi aliquando imitatur publicos mores, si disciplina civitatis laboravit et se in delicias dedit. Argumentum est luxuriae publicae orationis lascivia, si modo non in uno aut in altero fuit, sed adprobata est et recepta.

[2] And just as the delivery ~of speaking~ of each individual is similar, so the genre of speaking sometimes imitates the public mores, if the discipline of the state has faltered and has given itself over to delights. The lasciviousness of oration is an argument of public luxury, provided it has not been in one or in another only, but has been approved and received.

[3] Non potest alius esse ingenio, alius animo color. Si ille sanus est, si compositus, gravis, temperans, ingenium quoque siccum ac sobrium est: illo vitiato hoc quoque adflatur. Non vides, si animus elanguit, trahi membra et pigre moveri pedes?

[3] The color cannot be one in genius and another in spirit. If that is sound, if composed, grave, temperate, the genius too is dry and sober; with that corrupted, this too is breathed upon. Do you not see, if the spirit has grown languid, the limbs are dragged and the feet move sluggishly?

si ille effeminatus est, in ipso incessu apparere mollitiam? si ille acer est et ferox, concitari gradum? si furit aut, quod furori simile est, irascitur, turbatum esse corporis motum nec ire sed ferri?

if that man is effeminate, does softness appear in his very gait? if he is keen and ferocious, is his step quickened? if he is in a frenzy or—what is similar to frenzy—grows angry, is the motion of the body disturbed, and does he not go but is borne along?

Quanto hoc magis accidere ingenio putas, quod totum animo permixtum est, ab illo fingitur, illi paret, inde legem petit?

How much more do you think this happens to the temperament, which is wholly commingled with the mind, is fashioned by it, obeys it, and seeks its law from it?

[4] Quomodo Maecenas vixerit notius est quam ut narrari nunc debeat quomodo ambulaverit, quam delicatus fuerit, quam cupierit videri, quam vitia sua latere noluerit. Quid ergo? non oratio eius aeque soluta est quam ipse discinctus?

[4] How Maecenas lived is better known than that it ought now to be narrated how he walked, how delicate he was, how he desired to seem, how he was unwilling that his vices lie hidden. What then? Was not his oration as loosened as he himself was ungirded?

non tam insignita illius verba sunt quam cultus, quam comitatus, quam domus, quam uxor? Magni vir ingenii fuerat si illud egisset via rectiore, si non vitasset intellegi, si non etiam in oratione difflueret. Videbis itaque eloquentiam ebrii hominis involutam et errantem et licentiae plenam.

Are not his words less adorned than his attire, than his retinue, than his house, than his wife? He would have been a man of great ingenuity if he had carried it through by a straighter way, if he had not shunned being understood, if he were not even in his oration diffuse. You will see, therefore, the eloquence of an inebriated man, involved and errant and full of license.

[Maecenas de cultu suo.]

[Maecenas on his personal style.]

[5] Quid turpius 'amne silvisque ripa comantibus'? Vide ut 'alveum lyntribus arent versoque vado remittant hortos'. Quid? si quis 'feminae cinno crispat et labris columbatur incipitque suspirans, ut cervice lassa fanantur nemoris tyranni'. 'Inremediabilis factio rimantur epulis lagonaque temptant domos et spe mortem exigunt.' 'Genium festo vix suo testem.' 'Tenuisve cerei fila et crepacem molam.' 'Focum mater aut uxor investiunt.'

[5] What is more shameful than 'a river and a bank with tresses of woods'? See how 'they dry the channel with skiffs and, the shoal being turned, send back gardens.' What? if someone 'with a woman’s wink puckers and with his lips dovecotes, and begins, sighing, to speak, as the tyrants of the grove, with weary neck, utter oracles.' 'An irremediable faction snoops out for banquets and with a flagon test houses and by hope exact death.' 'His Genius on his own feast-day scarcely a witness.' 'Or the slender threads of the wax-candle and the clacking mill.' 'The hearth mother or wife invests.'

[6] Non statim cum haec legeris hoc tibi occurret, hunc esse qui solutis tunicis in urbe semper incesserit (nam etiam cum absentis Caesaris partibus fungeretur, signum a discincto petebatur); hunc esse qui tribunali, in rostris, in omni publico coetu sic apparuerit ut pallio velaretur caput exclusis utrimque auribus, non aliter quam in mimo fugitivi divitis solent; hunc esse cui tunc maxime civilibus bellis strepentibus et sollicita urbe et armata comitatus hic fuerit in publico, spadones duo, magis tamen viri quam ipse; hunc esse qui uxorem milliens duxit, cum unam habuerit?

[6] Not at once, when you read these things, will it occur to you that this is he who has always walked in the city with loosened tunics (for even when he was discharging the duties for the absent Caesar, the watchword was asked from the ungirdled one); that this is he who on the tribunal, on the Rostra, in every public assembly appeared in such a way that his head was veiled with a cloak, his ears shut out on both sides, just as in a mime the runaway of a rich man is wont; that this is he whose retinue then, with the civil wars clattering and the city anxious and armed, was in public, two eunuchs, yet more men than he himself; that this is he who married a wife a thousand times, though he had but one?

[7] Haec verba tam inprobe structa, tam neglegenter abiecta, tam contra consuetudinem omnium posita ostendunt mores quoque non minus novos et pravos et singulares fuisse. Maxima laus illi tribuitur mansuetudinis: pepercit gladio, sanguine abstinuit, nec ulla alia re quid posset quam licentia ostendit. Hanc ipsam laudem suam corrupit istis orationis portentosissimae delicis; apparet enim mollem fuisse, non mitem.

[7] These words, constructed so improperly, cast down so negligently, set so against the custom of all, show that his morals likewise were no less new and depraved and singular. The greatest praise is attributed to him for mansuetude: he spared the sword, he abstained from blood, and by no other thing did he show what he could do than by license. This very praise of his he corrupted by those delicacies of the most portentous oration; for it appears that he was soft, not mild.

[8] Hoc istae ambages compositionis, hoc verba transversa, hoc sensus miri, magni quidem saepe sed enervati dum exeunt, cuivis manifestum facient: motum illi felicitate nimia caput. Quod vitium hominis esse interdum, interdum temporis solet.

[8] These circumlocutions of composition, these oblique words, these wondrous meanings, often great indeed but enervated as they come forth, will make it manifest to anyone: his head was disturbed by excessive felicity. Which vice is wont sometimes to belong to the man, sometimes to the time.

[9] Ubi luxuriam late felicitas fudit, cultus primum corporum esse diligentior incipit; deinde supellectili laboratur; deinde in ipsas domos inpenditur cura ut in laxitatem ruris excurrant, ut parietes advectis trans maria marmoribus fulgeant, ut tecta varientur auro, ut lacunaribus pavimentorum respondeat nitor; deinde ad cenas lautitia transfertur et illic commendatio ex novitate et soliti ordinis commutatione captatur, ut ea quae includere solent cenam prima ponantur, ut quae advenientibus dabantur exeuntibus dentur.

[9] Where felicity has poured out luxury far and wide, the adornment of bodies first begins to be more diligent; then there is labor over the furnishings; then care is expended upon the houses themselves, so that they run out into the spaciousness of the countryside, so that the walls may shine with marbles conveyed across the seas, so that the roofs be variegated with gold, so that the lustre of the pavements may answer to the coffered ceilings; then lavishness is transferred to dinners, and there commendation is captured from novelty and from a commutation of the accustomed order, such that those things which are wont to close the dinner are placed first, and that the things which were given to those arriving are given to those departing.

[10] Cum adsuevit animus fastidire quae ex more sunt et illi pro sordidis solita sunt, etiam in oratione quod novum est quaerit et modo antiqua verba atque exoleta revocat ac profert, modo fingit ~et ignota ac~ deflectit, modo, id quod nuper increbruit, pro cultu habetur audax translatio ac frequens.

[10] When the mind has grown accustomed to disdain what is according to custom, and the usual things are to it as if sordid, even in speech it seeks what is new, and now it recalls and brings forth ancient and obsolete words, now it coins ~and unknown and~ it deflects, now—what has lately grown frequent—audacious and frequent translation is held as refinement.

[11] Sunt qui sensus praecidant et hoc gratiam sperent, si sententia pependerit et audienti suspicionem sui fecerit; sunt qui illos detineant et porrigant; sunt qui non usque ad vitium accedant (necesse est enim hoc facere aliquid grande temptanti) sed qui ipsum vitium ament.

[11] There are those who cut short the sense and hope for favor by this, if the sentence hangs suspended and creates in the listener a suspicion of itself; there are those who detain it and extend it; there are those who do not approach as far as vice (for it is necessary indeed to do this for one attempting something grand) but who love the vice itself.

Itaque ubicumque videris orationem corruptam placere, ibi mores quoque a recto descivisse non erit dubium. Quomodo conviviorum luxuria, quomodo vestium aegrae civitatis indicia sunt, sic orationis licentia, si modo frequens est, ostendit animos quoque a quibus verba exeunt procidisse.

Therefore, wherever you see a corrupted oration pleasing, there it will not be doubtful that the mores too have defected from rectitude. Just as the luxury of banquets, just as that of garments, are indications of a sick state, so the license of oration, if indeed it is frequent, shows that the minds too, from which the words issue, have collapsed.

[12] Mirari quidem non debes corrupta excipi non tantum a corona sordidiore sed ab hac quoque turba cultiore; togis enim inter se isti, non iudicis distant. Hoc magis mirari potes, quod non tantum vitiosa sed vitia laudentur. Nam illud semper factum est: nullum sine venia placuit ingenium.

[12] You ought not, indeed, to marvel that corrupt things are welcomed not only by the more sordid crowd but also by this more cultivated throng; for these men differ among themselves by their togas, not by their judgment. This you may marvel at more: that not only things vitiated, but the vices, are praised. For this has always happened: no genius has pleased without indulgence.

Da mihi quemcumque vis magni nominis virum: dicam quid illi aetas sua ignoverit, quid in illo sciens dissimulaverit. Multos tibi dabo quibus vitia non nocuerint, quosdam quibus profuerint. Dabo, inquam, maximae famae et inter admiranda propositos, quos si quis corrigit, delet; sic enim vitia virtutibus inmixta sunt ut illas secum tractura sint.

Give me whatever man of great name you will: I will tell what his own age has pardoned him, what it has knowingly dissimulated in him. I will give you many for whom vices have not harmed, some for whom they have profited. I will give, I say, men of the greatest fame and set among the admirable, whom, if anyone corrects, he effaces; for vices are so intermixed with the virtues as to drag those along with themselves.

[13] Adice nunc quod oratio certam regulam non habet: consuetudo illam civitatis, quae numquam in eodem diu stetit, versat. Multi ex alieno saeculo petunt verba, duodecim tabulas loquuntur; Gracchus illis et Crassus et Curio nimis culti et recentes sunt, ad Appium usque et Coruncanium redeunt. Quidam contra, dum nihil nisi tritum et usitatum volunt, in sordes incidunt.

[13] Add now this: oration has no fixed rule; the custom of the civitas, which has never stood long in the same condition, keeps turning it about. Many fetch words from a foreign age; they speak the language of the Twelve Tables. To them Gracchus and Crassus and Curio are too polished and too recent; they go back all the way to Appius and Coruncanius. Some, on the contrary, while they wish for nothing except what is worn and usual, fall into sordidness.

[14] Utrumque diverso genere corruptum est, tam mehercules quam nolle nisi splendidis uti ac sonantibus et poeticis, necessaria atque in usu posita vitare. Tam hunc dicam peccare quam illum: alter se plus iusto colit, alter plus iusto neglegit; ille et crura, hic ne alas quidem vellit.

[14] Each is corrupted in a different manner; and, by Hercules, so is the unwillingness to use anything except splendid, sonorous, and poetic [words], to avoid what is necessary and set in common use. I will say that this man sins as much as that one: the one cultivates himself more than is just, the other neglects himself more than is just; that fellow even plucks his legs, this one not even his armpits.

[15] Ad compositionem transeamus. Quot genera tibi in hac dabo quibus peccetur? Quidam praefractam et asperam probant; disturbant de industria si quid placidius effluxit; nolunt sine salebra esse iuncturam; virilem putant et fortem quae aurem inaequalitate percutiat.

[15] Let us pass to composition. How many kinds in this shall I point out to you by which one errs? Some approve a headstrong and rough one; they deliberately disturb it if anything has flowed out more placidly; they do not want the juncture to be without a bump; they think that which strikes the ear with unevenness to be manly and strong.

Quorundam non est compositio, modulatio est; adeo blanditur et molliter labitur.

With certain people it is not composition, it is modulation; it so flatters and glides softly.

[16] Quid de illa loquar in qua verba differuntur et diu expectata vix ad clausulas redeunt? Quid illa in exitu lenta, qualis Ciceronis est, devexa et molliter detinens nec aliter quam solet ad morem suum pedemque respondens?

[16] What shall I say of that in which words are deferred, and, long expected, scarcely return to the clauses? What of that slow at the exit, such as Cicero’s is—sloping down and gently detaining, and responding, not otherwise than as it is wont, to its own manner and foot?

Non tantum * * * in genere sententiarum vitium est, si aut pusillae sunt et pueriles aut inprobae et plus ausae quam pudore salvo licet, si floridae sunt et nimis dulces, si in vanum exeunt et sine effectu nihil amplius quam sonant.

Not only * * * is there a fault in the kind of sentences, if either they are puny and puerile, or improper and have dared more than is permitted with modesty intact, if they are florid and too sweet, if they go out into the void and, without effect, are nothing more than they sound.

[17] Haec vitia unus aliquis inducit, sub quo tunc eloquentia est, ceteri imitantur et alter alteri tradunt. Sic Sallustio vigente anputatae sententiae et verba ante expectatum cadentia et obscura brevitas fuere pro cultu. L. Arruntius, vir rarae frugalitatis, qui historias belli Punici scripsit, fuit Sallustianus et in illud genus nitens.

[17] These faults some single individual introduces, under whom eloquence then is; the rest imitate, and one hands it on to another. Thus, while Sallust was in vogue, clipped sentences, words dropping before they are expected, and an obscure brevity passed for refinement. L. Arruntius, a man of rare frugality, who wrote histories of the Punic War, was Sallustian and strove after that style.

Est apud Sallustium 'exercitum argento fecit', id est, pecunia paravit. Hoc Arruntius amare coepit; posuit illud omnibus paginis. Dicit quodam loco 'fugam nostris fecere', alio loco 'Hiero rex Syracusanorum bellum fecit', et alio loco 'quae audita Panhormitanos dedere Romanis fecere'.

There is in Sallust “he made an army with silver,” that is, he procured it with money. Arruntius began to love this; he put it on every page. In one place he says “they made flight for our men,” in another place “Hiero, king of the Syracusans, made war,” and in another place “which, when heard, made the Panormitans surrender to the Romans.”

[18] Gustum tibi dare volui: totus his contexitur liber. Quae apud Sallustium rara fuerunt apud hunc crebra sunt et paene continua, nec sine causa; ille enim in haec incidebat, at hic illa quaerebat. Vides autem quid sequatur ubi alicui vitium pro exemplo est.

[18] I wished to give you a taste: the whole book is woven together with these. What with Sallust was rare, with this man is frequent and almost continuous, nor without cause; for that man fell upon these, but this one was seeking them. And you see, moreover, what follows when for someone a fault is a model.

[19] Dixit Sallustius 'aquis hiemantibus'. Arruntius in primo libro belli Punici ait 'repente hiemavit tempestas', et alio loco cum dicere vellet frigidum annum fuisse ait 'totus hiemavit annus', et alio loco 'inde sexaginta onerarias leves praeter militem et necessarios nautarum hiemante aquilone misit'. Non desinit omnibus locis hoc verbum infulcire. Quodam loco dicit Sallustius 'dum inter arma civilia aequi bonique famas petit'. Arruntius non temperavit quominus primo statim libro poneret ingentes esse 'famas' de Regulo.

[19] Sallust said “with the waters wintering.” Arruntius in the first book of the Punic War says “the storm suddenly wintered,” and elsewhere, when he wanted to say the year had been cold, he says “the whole year wintered,” and elsewhere “then he sent sixty light freighters, besides the soldiery and the sailors required, with Aquilo wintering.” He does not cease to wedge in this verb everywhere. In a certain passage Sallust says “while amid civil arms he seeks the ‘famas’ of the fair and the good.” Arruntius did not restrain himself from putting, straightway in the first book, that the “famas” about Regulus were immense.

[20] Haec ergo et eiusmodi vitia, quae alicui inpressit imitatio, non sunt indicia luxuriae nec animi corrupti; propria enim esse debent et ex ipso nata ex quibus tu aestimes alicuius adfectus: iracundi hominis iracunda oratio est, commoti nimis incitata, delicati tenera et fluxa.

[20] Therefore these and vices of such a sort, which imitation has imprinted on someone, are not indications of luxury nor of a corrupted mind; for they ought to be proper and born from the man himself, from which you may estimate someone’s affections: the speech of an irascible man is irascible, of one too much agitated incited, of a delicate man tender and flowing.

[21] Quod vides istos sequi qui aut vellunt barbam aut intervellunt, qui labra pressius tondent et adradunt servata et summissa cetera parte, qui lacernas coloris inprobi sumunt, qui perlucentem togam, qui nolunt facere quicquam quod hominum oculis transire liceat: inritant illos et in se avertunt, volunt vel reprehendi dum conspici. Talis est oratio Maecenatis omniumque aliorum qui non casu errant sed scientes volentesque.

[21] What you see those men follow—who either pluck the beard or pluck it out in patches, who trim the lips more closely and scrape them, the rest being preserved and let down; who put on cloaks of immodest color, who a translucent toga, who are unwilling to do anything that it be permitted to pass beyond the eyes of men: they irritate people and turn them toward themselves; they want even to be reproved, provided they are looked at. Such is the speech of Maecenas and of all the others who do not err by chance but knowingly and willingly.

[22] Hoc a magno animi malo oritur: quomodo in vino non ante lingua titubat quam mens cessit oneri et inclinata vel prodita est, ita ista orationis quid aliud quam ebrietas nulli molesta est nisi animus labat. Ideo ille curetur: ab illo sensus, ab illo verba exeunt, ab illo nobis est habitus, vultus, incessus. Illo sano ac valente oratio quoque robusta, fortis, virilis est: si ille procubuit, et cetera ruinam sequuntur.

[22] This arises from a great evil of mind: just as in wine the tongue does not stagger before the mind has yielded to the burden and has been inclined or betrayed, so that intoxication of speech—what else is it but ebriety?—afflicts no one unless the spirit is reeling. Therefore let that be cared for: from it our perceptions go forth, from it our words go forth, from it are our bearing, countenance, and gait. With it sound and vigorous, speech too is robust, strong, virile; if it has fallen prostrate, the rest also follow into ruin.

[23]

Rege incolumi mens omnibus una est:
amisso rupere fidem.

With the king intact, the mind is one in all:
when he is lost, they broke faith.

Rex noster est animus; hoc incolumi cetera manent in officio, parent, obtemperant: cum ille paulum vacillavit, simul dubitant. Cum vero cessit voluptati, artes quoque eius actusque marcent et omnis ex languido fluidoque conatus est.

Our king is the mind; with this intact, the rest remain in duty, obey, comply: when it has wavered a little, they at once hesitate. But when it has yielded to pleasure, its arts and actions too languish, and every endeavor is languid and fluid.

[24] Quoniam hac similitudine usus sum, perseverabo. Animus noster modo rex est, modo tyrannus: rex cum honesta intuetur, salutem commissi sibi corporis curat et illi nihil imperat turpe, nihil sordidum; ubi vero inpotens, cupidus, delicatus est, transit in nomen detestabile ac dirum et fit tyrannus. Tunc illum excipiunt adfectus inpotentes et instant; qui initio quidem gaudet, ut solet populus largitione nocitura frustra plenus et quae non potest haurire contrectans;

[24] Since I have used this similitude, I will persevere. Our mind is at one time a king, at another a tyrant: a king when it contemplates honest things, cares for the safety of the body entrusted to it, and commands nothing base, nothing sordid to it; but when it is unrestrained, greedy, self-indulgent, it passes into a detestable and dire name and becomes a tyrant. Then unrestrained affections catch it and press upon it; at the outset indeed it rejoices, as the populace is wont, filled in vain with a largess that will harm, and handling what it cannot drain.

[25] cum vero magis ac magis vires morbus exedit et in medullas nervosque descendere deliciae, conspectu eorum quibus se nimia aviditate inutilem reddidit laetus, pro suis voluptatibus habet alienarum spectaculum, sumministrator libidinum testisque, quarum usum sibi ingerendo abstulit. Nec illi tam gratum est abundare iucundis quam acerbum quod non omnem illum apparatum per gulam ventremque transmittit, quod non cum omni exoletorum feminarumque turba convolutatur, maeretque quod magna pars suae felicitatis exclusa corporis angustiis cessat.

[25] when indeed more and more the disease eats away his strength and the indulgences descend into the marrows and nerves, glad at the sight of those by which, through excessive avidity, he has rendered himself useless, he has, in place of his own pleasures, the spectacle of others’, a purveyor of lusts and a witness, the use of which he has taken from himself by stuffing things into himself. Nor is it so pleasing to him to abound in delights as it is bitter that he does not send all that apparatus through his gullet and belly, that he does not wallow with the whole mob of catamites and women, and he mourns that a great part of his felicity, shut out by the narrowness of the body, stands idle.

[26] Numquid enim, mi Lucili, in hoc furor est, quod nemo nostrum mortalem se cogitat, quod nemo inbecillum? immo quod nemo nostrum unum esse se cogitat? Aspice culinas nostras et concursantis inter tot ignes cocos: unum videri putas ventrem cui tanto tumultu comparatur cibus?

[26] For, my Lucilius, is there not madness in this: that none of us considers himself mortal, that none considers himself imbecile? nay rather, that none of us considers himself to be a single person? Look at our kitchens and the cooks running about amid so many fires: do you suppose it is for one belly that food is being prepared with such a tumult?

Aspice veteraria nostra et plena multorum saeculorum vindemiis horrea: unum putas videri ventrem cui tot consulum regionumque vina cluduntur? Aspice quot locis terra vertatur, quot millia colonorum arent, fodiant: unum videri putas ventrem cui et in Sicilia et in Africa seritur?

Look upon our cattle-yards and the storehouses filled with the vintages of many centuries: do you think it is a single belly that is in view, for which the wines of so many consuls and regions are shut away? Look how in how many places the earth is turned, how many thousands of colonists—tenant-farmers—plow and dig: do you think it is a single belly for which sowing is done both in Sicily and in Africa?

[27] Sani erimus et modica concupiscemus si unusquisque se numeret, metiatur simul corpus, sciat quam nec multum capere nec diu possit. Nihil tamen aeque tibi profuerit ad temperantiam omnium rerum quam frequens cogitatio brevis aevi et huius incerti: quidquid facies, respice ad mortem. Vale.

[27] We shall be sane and desire moderate things if each person reckons himself, measures his body at the same time, knows that it can neither contain much nor endure for long. Nothing, however, will profit you equally toward temperance in all things as frequent cogitation of the brevity of life and of its uncertainty: whatever you do, look toward death. Farewell.

CXV. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

115. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Nimis anxium esse te circa verba et compositionem, mi Lucili, nolo: habeo maiora quae cures. Quaere quid scribas, non quemadmodum; et hoc ipsum non ut scribas sed ut sentias, ut illa quae senseris magis adplices tibi et velut signes.

[1] I do not want you, my Lucilius, to be too anxious about words and composition: I have greater things for you to care for. Seek what you are to write, not how; and this very thing, not that you may write but that you may sense it, so that you may apply more to yourself the things you have sensed and, as it were, sign them.

[2] Cuiuscumque orationem videris sollicitam et politam, scito animum quoque non minus esse pusillis occupatum. Magnus ille remissius loquitur et securius; quaecumque dicit plus habent fiduciae quam curae. Nosti comptulos iuvenes, barba et coma nitidos, de capsula totos: nihil ab illis speraveris forte, nihil solidum.

[2] Whomever’s speech you see anxious and polished, know that his mind too is no less occupied with petty things. The great man speaks more at ease and more securely; whatever he says has more confidence than care. You know the dapper youths, neat in beard and hair, all straight out of the bandbox: from them you may look for nothing stout, nothing solid.

Oratio cultus animi est: si circumtonsa est et fucata et manu facta, ostendit illum quoque non esse sincerum et habere aliquid fracti. Non est ornamentum virile concinnitas.

Speech is the adornment of the mind: if it is close-shorn and painted and hand-wrought, it shows that that too is not sincere and has something broken. Concinnity is not a virile ornament.

[3] Si nobis animum boni viri liceret inspicere, o quam pulchram faciem, quam sanctam, quam ex magnifico placidoque fulgentem videremus, hinc iustitia, illinc fortitudine, hinc temperantia prudentiaque lucentibus! Praeter has frugalitas et continentia et tolerantia et liberalitas comitasque et (quis credat?) in homine rarum humanitas bonum splendorem illi suum adfunderent. Tunc providentia cum elegantia et ex istis magnanimitas eminentissima quantum, di boni, decoris illi, quantum ponderis gravitatisque adderent!

[3] If it were permitted us to inspect the spirit of a good man, oh how beautiful a face, how holy, how gleaming with the magnificent and the placid we would see, here with justice, there with fortitude, here with temperance and prudence shining! Besides these, frugality and continence and tolerance and liberality and affability, and (who would believe it?) humanity—a rare thing in a man—would pour their own good splendor upon him. Then providence with elegance, and among these the most eminent magnanimity—how much, good gods, of decor for him, how much of weight and gravity would they add!

quanta esset cum gratia auctoritas! Nemo illam amabilem qui non simul venerabilem diceret.

how great would authority be together with grace! No one would call it amiable who would not at the same time call it venerable.

[4] Si quis viderit hanc faciem altiorem fulgentioremque quam cerni inter humana consuevit, nonne velut numinis occursu obstupefactus resistat et ut fas sit vidisse tacitus precetur, tum evocante ipsa vultus benignitate productus adoret ac supplicet, et diu contemplatus multum extantem superque mensuram solitorum inter nos aspici elatam, oculis mite quiddam sed nihilominus vivido igne flagrantibus, tunc deinde illam Vergili nostri vocem verens atque attonitus emittat?

[4] If someone should see this face loftier and more shining than is wont to be seen among human things, would he not, as at the encounter of a numen, stand stupefied and halt, and silently pray that it be licit to have seen it, then, drawn forth by the very benignity of the countenance as it calls him, adore and supplicate, and, after long contemplating it—standing out greatly and lifted above the measure of the things accustomed among us to be seen—with eyes blazing with something gentle yet nonetheless with a vivid fire, then thereafter, reverent and thunderstruck, utter that voice of our Virgil?

[5]

O quam te memorem, virgo? namque haut tibi vultus
mortalis nec vox hominem sonat . .
sis felix nostrumque leves quaecumque laborem.

O how am I to name you, maiden? for your visage
is not mortal, nor does your voice sound human . .
may you be fortunate and lighten whatever labor of ours.

Aderit levabitque, si colere eam voluerimus. Colitur autem non taurorum opimis corporibus contrucidatis nec auro argentoque suspenso nec in thensauros stipe infusa, sed pia et recta voluntate.

She will be present and will relieve us, if we are willing to cultivate her. She is cultivated, however, not with the rich bodies of bulls butchered, nor with gold and silver hung up, nor with coin poured into treasuries, but with a pious and upright will.

[6] Nemo, inquam, non amore eius arderet si nobis illam videre contingeret; nunc enim multa obstrigillant et aciem nostram aut splendore nimio repercutiunt aut obscuritate retinent. Sed si, quemadmodum visus oculorum quibusdam medicamentis acui solet et repurgari, sic nos aciem animi liberare inpedimentis voluerimus, poterimus perspicere virtutem etiam obrutam corpore, etiam paupertate opposita, etiam humilitate et infamia obiacentibus; cernemus, inquam, pulchritudinem illam quamvis sordido obtectam.

[6] No one, I say, would not burn with love for her if it should befall us to see her; for now many things shackle us, and our gaze is either driven back by excessive splendor or held by obscurity. But if, just as the sight of the eyes is wont to be sharpened and cleansed by certain medicaments, so we are willing to free the acumen of the mind from impediments, we shall be able to perceive clearly Virtue even when buried by the body, even with poverty set in opposition, even with humility and infamy lying in the way; we shall discern, I say, that beauty, although covered with sordidness.

[7] Rursus aeque malitiam et aerumnosi animi veternum perspiciemus, quamvis multus circa divitiarum radiantium splendor inpediat et intuentem hinc honorum, illinc magnarum potestatium falsa lux verberet.

[7] Again, we shall equally perceive malice and the lethargy of a hardship-laden mind, although much splendor around radiant riches hinders, and a false light—here of honors, there of great powers—lashes the onlooker.

[8] Tunc intellegere nobis licebit quam contemnenda miremur, simillimi pueris, quibus omne ludicrum in pretio est; parentibus quippe nec minus fratribus praeferunt parvo aere empta monilia. Quid ergo inter nos et illos interest, ut Ariston ait, nisi quod nos circa tabulas et statuas insanimus, carius inepti? Illos reperti in litore calculi leves et aliquid habentes varietatis delectant, nos ingentium maculae columnarum, sive ex Aegyptiis harenis sive ex Africae solitudinibus advectae porticum aliquam vel capacem populi cenationem ferunt.

[8] Then it will be permitted us to understand how things to-be-despised we admire, very like boys, for whom every plaything is at a premium; for indeed they prefer, before their parents and no less their brothers, necklaces bought for a small bronze coin. What, then, is the difference between us and them, as Ariston says, except that we go mad over paintings and statues, being foolish at a dearer price? Them light pebbles found on the shore, having a bit of variegation, delight; us the variegations of enormous columns, which, whether brought from the sands of Egypt or from the solitudes of Africa, support some portico or a dining-room capacious for a crowd.

[9] Miramur parietes tenui marmore inductos, cum sciamus quale sit quod absconditur. Oculis nostris inponimus, et cum auro tecta perfudimus, quid aliud quam mendacio gaudemus? Scimus enim sub illo auro foeda ligna latitare.

[9] We marvel at walls overlaid with thin marble, though we know what sort it is that is concealed. We impose upon our eyes, and when we have drenched the roofs with gold, what else do we rejoice in than a lie? For we know that under that gold foul timbers lurk.

Nec tantum parietibus aut lacunaribus ornamentum tenue praetenditur: omnium istorum quos incedere altos vides bratteata felicitas est. Inspice, et scies sub ista tenui membrana dignitatis quantum mali iaceat.

Nor is a thin ornament only held out for the walls or the coffers of the ceiling: the felicity of all those whom you see striding lofty is gold-leafed. Look within, and you will know how much evil lies beneath that thin membrane of dignity.

[10] Haec ipsa res quae tot magistratus, tot iudices detinet, quae et magistratus et iudices facit, pecunia, ex quo in honore esse coepit, verus rerum honor cecidit, mercatoresque et venales in vicem facti quaerimus non quale sit quidque sed quanti; ad mercedem pii sumus, ad mercedem impii, et honesta quamdiu aliqua illis spes inest sequimur, in contrarium transituri si plus scelera promittent.

[10] This very thing which detains so many magistrates, so many judges, which also makes magistrates and judges—money—since it began to be in honor, the true honor of things has fallen; and we, made in turn merchants and venal, inquire not what quality each thing is but for how much; for hire we are pious, for hire impious, and we follow honorable things so long as some hope is in them, ready to pass over to the contrary if crimes shall promise more.

[11] Admirationem nobis parentes auri argentique fecerunt, et teneris infusa cupiditas altius sedit crevitque nobiscum. Deinde totus populus in alia discors in hoc convenit: hoc suspiciunt, hoc suis optant, hoc dis velut rerum humanarum maximum, cum grati videri volunt, consecrant. Denique eo mores redacti sunt ut paupertas maledicto probroque sit, contempta divitibus, invisa pauperibus.

[11] Our parents produced in us admiration for gold and silver, and the cupidity poured in during tender years settled deeper and grew up with us. Then the whole populace, discordant in other matters, agrees in this: this they look up to, this they wish for their own, this they consecrate to the gods as the greatest of human affairs when they wish to seem grateful. Finally, our mores have been reduced to this point, that poverty is a malediction and a reproach, despised by the rich, hated by the poor.

[12] Accedunt deinde carmina poetarum, quae adfectibus nostris facem subdant, quibus divitiae velut unicum vitae decus ornamentumque laudantur. Nihil illis melius nec dare videntur di inmortales posse nec habere.

[12] Then there come the poems of the poets, to put a torch to our passions, in which riches are lauded as if the unique honor and ornament of life. Nothing better, it seems, can the immortal gods either give to them or have.

[13]

Regia Solis erat sublimibus alta columnis,
clara micante auro.

The palace of the Sun was high with lofty columns,
bright with gleaming gold.

Eiusdem currum aspice:

Behold the chariot of the same:

Aureus axis erat, temo aureus, aurea summae
curvatura rotae, radiorum argenteus ordo.

Golden was the axle, golden the pole, golden the curvature of the wheel’s rim,
the order of the spokes was silver.

Denique quod optimum videri volunt saeculum aureum appellant.

Finally, they call the Golden Age that which they want to seem the best.

[14] Nec apud Graecos tragicos desunt qui lucro innocentiam, salutem, opinionem bonam mutent.

[14] Nor among the Greek tragic poets are there lacking those who for lucre barter innocence, salvation, and good opinion.

Sine me vocari pessimum, [simul] ut dives vocer.
An dives omnes quaerimus, nemo an bonus.
Non quare et unde, quid habeas tantum rogant.

Allow me to be called the worst, [at the same time] provided that I be called rich.
Is it a rich man we all seek, does no one seek a good one?
They ask not why and whence, only what you have.

Ubique tanti quisque, quantum habuit, fuit.
Quid habere nobis turpe sit quaeris? nihil.

Everywhere each was worth as much as he had.
What would be shameful for us to have, you ask? Nothing.

Aut dives opto vivere aut pauper mori.
Bene moritur quisquis moritur dum lucrum facit.
Pecunia, ingens generis humani bonum,
cui non voluptas matris aut blandae potest
par esse prolis, non sacer meritis parens;
tam dulce si quid Veneris in vultu micat,
merito illa amores caelitum atque hominum movet.

Either I desire to live rich or to die poor.
He dies well, whoever dies while making lucre.
Money, the immense good of the human race,
to which neither the delight of a mother nor of a blandishing progeny can
be equal, nor a parent sacred for merits;
if anything so sweet of Venus glitters in the face,
deservedly that stirs the loves of the celestials and of men.

[15] Cum hi novissimi versus in tragoedia Euripidis pronuntiati essent, totus populus ad eiciendum et actorem et carmen consurrexit uno impetu, donec Euripides in medium ipse prosilivit petens ut expectarent viderentque quem admirator auri exitum faceret. Dabat in illa fabula poenas Bellerophontes quas in sua quisque dat.

[15] When these very latest verses had been pronounced in the tragedy of Euripides, the whole populace rose up with one impetus to cast out both the actor and the poem, until Euripides himself leapt forth into the midst, begging that they wait and see what outcome the admirer of gold would bring about. In that play Bellerophon was paying the penalties which each man pays in his own case.

[16] Nulla enim avaritia sine poena est, quamvis satis sit ipsa poenarum. O quantum lacrimarum, quantum laborum exigit! quam misera desideratis, quam misera partis est!

[16] For no avarice is without penalty, although it itself is punishment enough. O how many tears, how many labors it exacts! how wretched amid the things desired, how wretched amid the things acquired it is!

Adice cotidianas sollicitudines quae pro modo habendi quemque discruciant. Maiore tormento pecunia possidetur quam quaeritur. Quantum damnis ingemescunt, quae et magna incidunt et videntur maiora.

Add the daily solicitudes which, in proportion to each person’s measure of having, excruciate them. Money is possessed with greater torment than it is sought. How greatly they groan over losses, which both occur great and seem greater.

Denique ut illis fortuna nihil detrahat, quidquid non adquiritur damnum est.

Finally, granted that Fortune detracts nothing from them, whatever is not acquired is a loss.

[17] 'At felicem illum homines et divitem vocant et consequi optant quantum ille possidet.' Fateor. Quid ergo? tu ullos esse condicionis peioris existimas quam qui habent et miseriam et invidiam?

[17] 'But men call that man happy and rich, and they wish to attain as much as he possesses.' I confess it. What then? Do you reckon any to be of a worse condition than those who have both misery and envy?

Utinam qui divitias optaturi essent cum divitibus deliberarent; utinam honores petituri cum ambitiosis et summum adeptis dignitatis statum! Profecto vota mutassent, cum interim illi nova suscipiunt cum priora damnaverint. Nemo enim est cui felicitas sua, etiam si cursu venit, satis faciat; queruntur et de consiliis et de processibus suis maluntque semper quae reliquerunt.

Would that those who are about to desire riches would deliberate with the rich; would that those who are going to seek honors would do so with the ambitious and with those who have attained the highest status of dignity! Surely they would have changed their vows, while in the meantime those men take up new ones after they have condemned the former. For there is no one for whom his own felicity, even if it comes at a run, is enough to satisfy; they complain both of their counsels and of their progress, and they always prefer the things they have left behind.

[18] Itaque hoc tibi philosophia praestabit, quo equidem nihil maius existimo: numquam te paenitebit tui. Ad hanc tam solidam felicitatem, quam tempestas nulla concutiat, non perducent te apte verba contexta et oratio fluens leniter: eant ut volent, dum animo compositio sua constet, dum sit magnus et opinionum securus et ob ipsa quae aliis displicent sibi placens, qui profectum suum vita aestimet et tantum scire se iudicet quantum non cupit, quantum non timet. Vale.

[18] Therefore philosophy will bestow this on you, than which indeed I reckon nothing greater: you will never regret yourself. To this so solid felicity, which no tempest can shake, neatly woven words and an oration flowing gently will not lead you: let them go as they will, provided that his mind’s composition stand firm, provided that he be great and untroubled by opinions, and pleasing to himself because of the very things which displease others, one who estimates his progress by his life and judges that he knows just so much as he does not desire, just so much as he does not fear. Farewell.

CXVI. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

116. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Utrum satius sit modicos habere adfectus an nullos saepe quaesitum est. Nostri illos expellunt, Peripatetici temperant. Ego non video quomodo salubris esse aut utilis possit ulla mediocritas morbi.

[1] Whether it is preferable to have moderate affections or none has often been asked. Our people expel them, the Peripatetics temper them. I do not see how any mediocrity of disease can be salubrious or useful.

Noli timere: nihil eorum quae tibi non vis negari eripio. Facilem me indulgentemque praebebo rebus ad quas tendis et quas aut necessarias vitae aut utiles aut iucundas putas: detraham vitium. Nam cum tibi cupere interdixero, velle permittam, ut eadem illa intrepidus facias, ut certiore consilio, ut voluptates ipsas magis sentias: quidni ad te magis perventurae sint si illis imperabis quam si servies?

Do not fear: I snatch away none of those things which you do not wish to be denied to you. I will show myself easy and indulgent toward the things to which you tend and which you judge either necessary for life or useful or pleasant: I will remove the vice. For when I have forbidden you to desire, I will permit you to will, so that you may do those same things unafraid, with surer counsel, so that you may feel the pleasures themselves more: why should they not be more destined to come to you if you command them rather than serve them?

[2] 'Sed naturale est' inquis 'ut desiderio amici torquear: da ius lacrimis tam iuste cadentibus. Naturale est opinionibus hominum tangi et adversis contristari: quare mihi non permittas hunc tam honestum malae opinionis metum?' Nullum est vitium sine patrocinio; nulli non initium verecundum est et exorabile, sed ab hoc latius funditur. Non obtinebis ut desinat si incipere permiseris.

[2] 'But it is natural,' you say, 'that I be tormented by the desire for a friend: grant a right to tears falling so justly. It is natural to be touched by the opinions of men and to be saddened by adverse things: why will you not permit me this so honorable fear of ill opinion?' There is no vice without patronage; to every one the beginning is bashful and exorable, but from this it spreads more widely. You will not obtain that it cease if you have permitted it to begin.

[3] Inbecillus est primo omnis adfectus; deinde ipse se concitat et vires dum procedit parat: excluditur facilius quam expellitur. Quis negat omnis adfectus a quodam quasi naturali fluere principio? Curam nobis nostri natura mandavit, sed huic ubi nimium indulseris, vitium est.

[3] Every affect is feeble at first; then it rouses itself and, as it proceeds, readies strength: it is more easily shut out than expelled. Who denies that every affect flows from a certain, as it were, natural principle? Nature has entrusted to us the care of ourselves, but when you indulge this too much, it is vice.

Voluptatem natura necessariis rebus admiscuit, non ut illam peteremus, sed ut ea sine quibus non possumus vivere gratiora nobis illius faceret accessio: suo veniat iure, luxuria est. Ergo intrantibus resistamus, quia facilius, ut dixi, non recipiuntur quam exeunt.

Nature has mixed pleasure in with the necessary things, not that we should seek it, but so that the accession of it might make more pleasing to us those things without which we cannot live: if it comes on its own right, it is luxury. Therefore let us resist them as they are entering, because, more easily, as I said, they are not admitted than driven out.

[4] 'Aliquatenus' inquis 'dolere, aliquatenus timere permitte.' Sed illud 'aliquatenus' longe producitur nec ubi vis accipit finem. Sapienti non sollicite custodire se tutum est, et lacrimas suas et voluptates ubi volet sistet: nobis, quia non est regredi facile, optimum est omnino non progredi.

[4] 'To some extent,' you say, 'allow me to grieve; to some extent, to fear.' But that 'to some extent' is drawn out far and does not take its end where you wish. For the wise man it is safe not to guard himself solicitously, and he will halt his tears and his voluptuous pleasures where he wills; for us, because it is not easy to go back, the best is not to progress at all.

[5] Eleganter mihi videtur Panaetius respondisse adulescentulo cuidam quaerenti an sapiens amaturus esset. 'De sapiente' inquit 'videbimus: mihi et tibi, qui adhuc a sapiente longe absumus, non est committendum ut incidamus in rem commotam, inpotentem, alteri emancupatam, vilem sibi. Sive enim nos respicit, humanitate eius inritamur, sive contempsit, superbia accendimur.

[5] It seems to me that Panaetius answered elegantly to a certain young man asking whether a wise man would be about to love. 'About the wise man,' he said, 'we shall see: for me and for you, who are still far from the wise man, it is not to be committed that we fall into an affair agitated, impotent, made over to another (emancipated to another), cheap to itself. For if she regards us, we are provoked by her humanity; if she has scorned us, we are kindled by pride.

Aeque facilitas amoris quam difficultas nocet: facilitate capimur, cum difficultate certamus. Itaque conscii nobis inbecillitatis nostrae quiescamus; nec vino infirmum animum committamus nec formae nec adulationi nec ullis rebus blande trahentibus.'

Equally the facility of love harms as does its difficulty: by facility we are captured, with difficulty we contend. Therefore, being conscious of our weakness, let us be at rest; and let us not commit our feeble mind to wine, nor to beauty, nor to adulation, nor to any blandishments that draw us coaxingly.

[6] Quod Panaetius de amore quaerenti respondit, hoc ego de omnibus adfectibus dico: quantum possumus nos a lubrico recedamus; in sicco quoque parum fortiter stamus.

[6] What Panaetius answered to the one asking about love, this I say about all affections: as much as we can, let us recede from the slippery; even on the dry we stand not very firmly.

[7] Occurres hoc loco mihi illa publica contra Stoicos voce: 'nimis magna promittitis, nimis dura praecipitis. Nos homunciones sumus; omnia nobis negare non possumus. Dolebimus, sed parum; concupiscemus, sed temperate; irascemur, sed placabimur.'

[7] At this point you will confront me with that public voice against the Stoics: 'you promise things too great, you prescribe things too hard. We are little men; we cannot refuse ourselves everything. We shall grieve, but little; we shall desire, but temperately; we shall be angry, but we shall be appeased.'

[8] Scis quare non possimus ista? quia nos posse non credimus. Immo mehercules aliud est in re: vitia nostra quia amamus defendimus et malumus excusare illa quam excutere.

[8] Do you know why we cannot accomplish those things? Because we do not believe that we can. Nay, by Hercules, the matter is otherwise: our vices, because we love them, we defend, and we prefer to excuse them rather than shake them off.

Satis natura homini dedit roboris si illo utamur, si vires nostras colligamus ac totas pro nobis, certe non contra nos concitemus. Nolle in causa est, non posse praetenditur. Vale.

Nature has given to man strength enough, if we use it, if we gather our powers and incite them whole on our behalf, certainly not against ourselves. Unwillingness is the cause; “not being able” is put forward as a pretext. Farewell.

CXVII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

117. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS SALUTATION

[1] Multum mihi negotii concinnabis et, dum nescis, in magnam me litem ac molestiam inpinges, qui mihi tales quaestiunculas ponis, in quibus ego nec dissentire a nostris salva gratia nec consentire salva conscientia possum. Quaeris an verum sit quod Stoicis placet, sapientiam bonum esse, sapere bonum non esse. Primum exponam quid Stoicis videatur; deinde tunc dicere sententiam audebo.

[1] You will be contriving much business for me and, while you do not know it, you will thrust me into great litigation and annoyance, you who put to me such little questions, in which I can neither dissent from our own with goodwill intact nor consent with conscience intact. You ask whether what pleases the Stoics is true: that wisdom (sapience) is a good, but that to be wise (to taste of wisdom) is not a good. First I shall expound what seems to the Stoics; then I shall dare to state my judgment.

[2] Placet nostris quod bonum est corpus esse, quia quod bonum est facit, quidquid facit corpus est. Quod bonum est prodest; faciat autem aliquid oportet ut prosit; si facit, corpus est. Sapientiam bonum esse dicunt; sequitur ut necesse sit illam corporalem quoque dicere.

[2] Our school holds that what is good is a body, because what is good does, and whatever does is a body. What is good benefits; moreover, it ought to do something in order to benefit; if it does, it is a body. They say that wisdom is a good; it follows that it is necessary to call it corporeal as well.

[3] At sapere non putant eiusdem condicionis esse. Incorporale est et accidens alteri, id est sapientiae; itaque nec facit quicquam nec prodest. 'Quid ergo?' inquit 'non dicimus: bonum est sapere?' Dicimus referentes ad id ex quo pendet, id est ad ipsam sapientiam.

[3] But they do not think that to be wise is of the same condition. It is incorporeal and an accident of another, that is, of wisdom; and so it neither does anything nor does it benefit. 'What then?' he says, 'do we not say: it is good to be wise?' We say it, referring to that on which it depends, that is, to wisdom itself.

[4] Adversus hos quid ab aliis respondeatur audi, antequam ego incipio secedere et in alia parte considere. 'Isto modo' inquiunt 'nec beate vivere bonum est. Velint nolint, respondendum est beatam vitam bonum esse, beate vivere bonum non esse.'

[4] Against these, hear what is answered by others, before I begin to withdraw and sit on the other side. 'In this manner,' they say, 'nor is it a good to live happily. Whether they will or not, it must be answered that the happy life is a good, that to live happily is not a good.'

[5] Etiamnunc nostris illud quoque opponitur: 'vultis sapere; ergo expetenda res est sapere; si expetenda res est, bona est'. Coguntur nostri verba torquere et unam syllabam expetendo interponere quam sermo noster inseri non sinit. Ego illam, si pateris, adiungam. 'Expetendum est' inquiunt 'quod bonum est, expetibile quod nobis contingit cum bonum consecuti sumus.

[5] Even now this too is objected to our side: 'you wish to be wise; therefore to be wise is a thing to be sought; if it is a thing to be sought, it is good'. Our people are forced to twist words and to interpose one syllable by saying 'by seeking,' which our speech does not allow to be inserted. I will add it, if you allow. 'It is to-be-sought,' they say, 'what is good; "desirable" is what befalls us when we have obtained the good.

Non petitur tamquam bonum, sed petito bono accedit.'

It is not sought as a good, but, once the good has been sought, it accrues.'

[6] Ego non idem sentio et nostros iudico in hoc descendere quia iam primo vinculo tenentur et mutare illis formulam non licet. Multum dare solemus praesumptioni omnium hominum et apud nos veritatis argumentum est aliquid omnibus videri; tamquam deos esse inter alia hoc colligimus, quod omnibus insita de dis opinio est nec ulla gens usquam est adeo extra leges moresque proiecta ut non aliquos deos credat. Cum de animarum aeternitate disserimus, non leve momentum apud nos habet consensus hominum aut timentium inferos aut colentium.

[6] I do not feel the same, and I judge that our people climb down in this point, because they are already held by the first bond, and it is not permitted to them to change the formula. We are accustomed to give much to the presumption of all human beings, and with us it is an argument of truth for something to seem to all; just as, that gods exist, among other things we gather from this, that an opinion about the gods is implanted in all, nor is there any nation anywhere so cast out beyond laws and customs as not to believe that there are some gods. When we discuss the eternity of souls, the consensus of men—either of those fearing the underworld or of those worshiping—carries no slight weight with us.

Utor hac publica persuasione: neminem invenies qui non putet et sapientiam bonum et sapere.

I use this public persuasion: you will find no one who does not think both wisdom a good and to be wise.

[7] Non faciam quod victi solent, ut provocem ad populum: nostris incipiamus armis confligere. Quod accidit alicui, utrum extra id cui accidit est an in eo cui accidit? Si in eo est cui accidit, tam corpus est quam illud cui accidit.

[7] I will not do what the defeated are wont to do, to appeal to the people: let us begin to clash with our own arms. That which happens to someone, is it outside that to which it happens, or in that to which it happens? If it is in that in which it happens, it is as much a body as that to which it happens.

Nihil enim accidere sine tactu potest; quod tangit corpus est: nihil accidere sine actu potest; quod agit corpus est. Si extra est, postea quam acciderat recessit; quod recessit motum habet; quod motum habet corpus est.

For nothing can happen without contact; what touches is a body: nothing can happen without action; what acts is a body. If it is outside, after it had happened it receded; what has receded has motion; what has motion is a body.

[8] Speras me dicturum non esse aliud cursum, aliud currere, nec aliud calorem, aliud calere, nec aliud lucem, aliud lucere: concedo ista alia esse, sed non sortis alterius. Si valetudo indifferens est, bene valere indifferens est; si forma indifferens est, et formonsum esse. Si iustitia bonum est, et iustum esse; si turpitudo malum est, et turpem esse malum est, tam mehercules quam si lippitudo malum est, lippire quoque malum est.

[8] You expect me to say that a course is not one thing and running another, nor heat one thing and to be hot another, nor light one thing and to shine another: I grant that these are different, but not of a different lot. If health is indifferent, to be in good health is indifferent; if beauty is indifferent, then to be beautiful is [indifferent]. If justice is a good, then to be just is; if turpitude is an evil, then to be base is an evil, by Hercules, just as, if lippitude (bleary‑eyedness) is an evil, to be bleary‑eyed is also an evil.

Hoc ut scias, neutrum esse sine altero potest: qui sapit sapiens est; qui sapiens est sapit. Adeo non potest dubitari an quale illud sit, tale hoc sit, ut quibusdam utrumque unum videatur atque idem.

That you may know this, neither can exist without the other: whoever is sapient is a sapient person; whoever is a sapient person is sapient. So far is it from being able to be doubted that, of whatever quality that is, such this is, that to some people both seem one and the same.

[9] Sed illud libenter quaesierim, cum omnia aut mala sint aut bona aut indifferentia, sapere in quo numero sit? Bonum negant esse; malum utique non est; sequitur ut medium sit. Id autem medium atque indifferens vocamus quod tam malo contingere quam bono possit, tamquam pecunia, forma, nobilitas.

[9] But this I would gladly inquire: since all things are either evils or goods or indifferents, in which number is it to be sapient? They deny it to be a good; it is assuredly not an evil; it follows that it is a middle thing. And we call “middle” and “indifferent” that which can befall a bad man as much as a good one, such as money, form (beauty), nobility.

Hoc, ut sapiat, contingere nisi bono non potest; ergo indifferens non est. Atqui ne malum quidem est, quod contingere malo non potest; ergo bonum est. Quod nisi bonus non habet bonum est; sapere non nisi bonus habet; ergo bonum est.

This, for it to be wise, cannot befall anyone except a good man; therefore it is not indifferent. And yet neither is it an evil, since what cannot befall a bad man is not an evil; therefore it is a good. Whatever only a good man possesses is a good; only a good man possesses to be wise; therefore it is a good.

[10] Accidens est' inquit 'sapientiae.' Hoc ergo quod vocas sapere, utrum facit sapientiam an patitur? Sive facit illud sive patitur, utroque modo corpus est; nam et quod fit et quod facit corpus est. Si corpus est, bonum est; unum enim illi deerat quominus bonum esset, quod incorporale erat.

[10] 'It is an accident,' he says, 'of wisdom.' This, then, which you call being wise, does it make wisdom or does it undergo it? Whether it makes it or undergoes it, in either case it is a body; for both what is made and what makes are bodies. If it is a body, it is a good; for one thing was lacking to it to prevent its being a good—namely, that it was incorporeal.

[11] Peripateticis placet nihil interesse inter sapientiam et sapere, cum in utrolibet eorum et alterum sit. Numquid enim quemquam existimas sapere nisi qui sapientiam habet? numquid quemquam qui sapit non putas habere sapientiam?

[11] It pleases the Peripatetics that there is no difference between sapience and being sapient, since in either of them the other is present. Do you think anyone to be sapient unless he has sapience? do you suppose anyone who is sapient not to have sapience?

[12] Dialectici veteres ista distinguunt; ab illis divisio usque ad Stoicos venit. Qualis sit haec dicam. Aliud est ager, aliud agrum habere, quidni?

[12] The ancient dialecticians distinguish these things; from them the division came down as far as the Stoics. What sort this is I will say. One thing is a field, another to have a field—why not?

cum habere agrum ad habentem, non ad agrum pertineat. Sic aliud est sapientia, aliud sapere. Puto, concedes duo esse haec, id quod habetur et eum qui habet: habetur sapientia, habet qui sapit.

since to have a field pertains to the possessor, not to the field. Thus wisdom is one thing, to be wise is another. I think you will concede these two to be: that which is had and the one who has it: wisdom is what is had, he who is wise has it.

Sapientia est mens perfecta vel ad summum optimumque perducta; ars enim vitae est. Sapere quid est? non possum dicere 'mens perfecta', sed id quod contingit perfectam mentem habenti; ita alterum est mens bona, alterum quasi habere mentem bonam.

Wisdom is a mind perfect, or conducted to the highest and best; for it is the art of life. What is it to be wise? I cannot say “a perfect mind,” but rather that which is contingent upon one having a perfect mind; thus the one is a good mind, the other, as it were, to have a good mind.

[13] 'Sunt' inquit 'naturae corporum, tamquam hic homo est, hic equus; has deinde sequuntur motus animorum enuntiativi corporum. Hi habent proprium quiddam et a corporibus seductum, tamquam video Catonem ambulantem: hoc sensus ostendit, animus credidit. Corpus est quod video, cui et oculos intendi et animum.

[13] 'There are,' he says, 'natures of bodies, as when: here is a man, here a horse; these are then followed by motions of minds enunciative of bodies. These have a certain something proper and abstracted from bodies, as: I see Cato walking; this the sense shows, the mind has believed. What I see is a body, toward which I have directed both my eyes and my mind.

Dico deinde: Cato ambulat. Non corpus' inquit 'est quod nunc loquor, sed enuntiativum quiddam de corpore, quod alii effatum vocant, alii enuntiatum, alii dictum. Sic cum dicimus "sapientiam", corporale quiddam intellegimus; cum dicimus "sapit", de corpore loquimur.

Then I say: Cato walks. 'It is not a body,' he says, 'that I am now speaking of, but a certain enunciative thing about a body, which some call an effatum, others an enuntiatum, others a dictum. Thus when we say "wisdom," we understand something corporeal; when we say "he is wise," we speak about a body.'

Plurimum autem interest utrum illud dicas an de illo.'

‘But it matters very greatly whether you say that, or say something about that.’

[14] Putemus in praesentia ista duo esse (nondum enim quid mihi videatur pronuntio): quid prohibet quominus aliud quidem sed nihilominus bonum? Dicebam paulo ante aliud esse agrum, aliud habere agrum. Quidni?

[14] Let us for the present suppose these two things to be (for I do not yet pronounce what seems to me): what prohibits that it be other indeed but nonetheless good? I was saying a little before that to be a field is one thing, to have a field another. Why not?

in alia enim natura est qui habet, in alia quod habetur: illa terra est, hic homo est. At in hoc de quo agitur eiusdem naturae sunt utraque, et qui habet sapientiam et ipsa.

for the one who has is in one nature, and the thing that is had in another: that is land, this is a man. But in this matter which is under discussion, both are of the same nature, both the one who has wisdom and wisdom itself.

[15] Praeterea illic aliud est quod habetur, alius qui habet: hic in eodem est et quod habetur et qui habet. Ager iure possidetur, sapientia natura; ille abalienari potest et alteri tradi, haec non discedit a domino. Non est itaque quod compares inter se dissimilia.

[15] Furthermore, in that case one thing is what is possessed, another is the one who possesses; here, in the same person are both what is possessed and the one who possesses. A field is possessed by right, wisdom by nature; the former can be alienated and handed over to another, the latter does not depart from its owner. There is therefore no ground for you to compare dissimilar things among themselves.

Coeperam dicere posse ista duo esse et tamen utraque bona esse, tamquam sapientia et sapiens duo sunt et utrumque bonum esse concedis. Quomodo nihil obstat quominus et sapientia bonum sit et habens sapientiam, sic nihil obstat quominus et sapientia bonum sit et habere sapientiam, id est sapere.

I had begun to say that these two can exist and yet both be good, just as sapience and the sapient are two and you concede that each is good. Just as nothing stands in the way for both sapience to be a good and the one having sapience to be good, so nothing stands in the way for both sapience to be a good and to have sapience, that is, to be sapient.

[16] Ego in hoc volo sapiens esse, ut sapiam. Quid ergo? non est id bonum sine quo nec illud bonum est?

[16] I wish to be wise for this, that I may be wise. What then? Is not that a good, without which not even the other is good?

Vos certe dicitis sapientiam, si sine usu detur, accipiendam non esse. Quid est usus sapientiae? sapere: hoc est in illa pretiosissimum, quo detracto supervacua fit.

Surely you say that wisdom, if it be given without use, is not to be accepted. What is the use of wisdom? to be wise: this is the most precious thing in it, and with this taken away, it becomes superfluous.

Si tormenta mala sunt, torqueri malum est, adeo quidem ut illa non sint mala si quod sequitur detraxeris. Sapientia habitus perfectae mentis est, sapere usus perfectae mentis: quomodo potest usus eius bonum non esse quae sine usu bonum non est?

If torments are evils, to be tortured is an evil—indeed to such a degree that those would not be evils if you were to subtract what follows. Sapience is the habitus of a perfected mind, and to be wise is the use of a perfected mind: how can its use fail to be a good, when that which is not a good without use?

[17] Interrogo te an sapientia expetenda sit: fateris. Interrogo an usus sapientiae expetendus sit: fateris. Negas enim te illam recepturum si uti ea prohibearis.

[17] I ask you whether wisdom is to be sought: you confess it. I ask whether the use of wisdom is to be sought: you confess it. For you deny that you would receive it if you were prohibited from using it.

Quod expetendum est bonum est. Sapere sapientiae usus est, quomodo eloquentiae eloqui, quomodo oculorum videre. Ergo sapere sapientiae usus est, usus autem sapientiae expetendus est; sapere ergo expetendum est; si expetendum est, bonum est.

What is to be sought is good. To be wise is the use of wisdom, just as to speak is the use of eloquence, just as to see is the use of the eyes. Therefore to be wise is the use of wisdom, and the use of wisdom is to be sought; therefore to be wise is to be sought; if it is to be sought, it is good.

[18] Olim ipse me damno qui illos imitor dum accuso et verba apertae rei inpendo. Cui enim dubium potest esse quin, si aestus malum est, et aestuare malum sit? si algor malum est, malum sit algere?

[18] At times I condemn myself, who imitate those men while I accuse, and I expend words on a manifest matter. For to whom can it be doubtful that, if heat is an evil, to swelter is evil? if chill is an evil, to be cold is evil?

si vita bonum est, et vivere bonum sit? Omnia ista circa sapientiam, non in ipsa sunt; at nobis in ipsa commorandum est.

if life is a good, then is living a good too? All those things are around wisdom, not in wisdom itself; but it is in wisdom itself that we must dwell.

[19] Etiam si quid evagari libet, amplos habet illa spatiososque secessus: de deorum natura quaeramus, de siderum alimento, de his tam variis stellarum discursibus, an ad illarum motus nostra moveantur, an corporibus omnium animisque illinc impetus veniat, an et haec quae fortuita dicuntur certa lege constricta sint nihilque in hoc mundo repentinum aut expers ordinis volutetur. Ista iam a formatione morum recesserunt, sed levant animum et ad ipsarum quas tractat rerum magnitudinem attollunt; haec vero de quibus paulo ante dicebam minuunt et deprimunt nec, ut putatis, exacuunt, sed extenuant.

[19] Even if one is pleased to wander a bit, it has ample and spacious recesses: let us inquire about the nature of the gods, about the aliment of the stars, about these so various courses of the stars, whether our affairs are moved by their motions, whether an impetus comes from there to the bodies and souls of all, whether even these things which are called fortuitous are bound by a fixed law and nothing in this world is tossed about sudden or bereft of order. These topics have now receded from the formation of morals, but they lighten the mind and lift it to the magnitude of the very things which it handles; but those things of which I was speaking a little before lessen and depress, and, as you suppose, they do not whet, but attenuate.

[20] Obsecro vos, tam necessariam curam maioribus melioribusque debitam in re nescio an falsa, certe inutili terimus? Quid mihi profuturum est scire an aliud sit sapientia, aliud sapere? Quid mihi profuturum est scire illud bonum esse, ? Temere me geram, subibo huius voti aleam: tibi sapientia, mihi sapere contingat.

[20] I beseech you, are we wearing down so necessary a care, owed to greater and better matters, upon a subject perhaps false, certainly useless? What will it profit me to know whether sapience is one thing, being sapient another? What will it profit me to know that that is good, ? I will carry myself rashly; I will undergo the hazard of this wager: may sapience fall to you, and to me to be sapient.

Pares erimus.

We shall be equals.

[21] Potius id age ut mihi viam monstres qua ad ista perveniam. Dic quid vitare debeam, quid adpetere, quibus animum labantem studiis firmem, quemadmodum quae me ex transverso feriunt aguntque procul a me repellam, quomodo par esse tot malis possim, quomodo istas calamitates removeam quae ad me inruperunt, quomodo illas ad quas ego inrupi. Doce quomodo feram aerumnam sine gemitu meo, felicitatem sine alieno, quomodo ultimum ac necessarium non expectem sed ipsemet, cum visum erit, profugiam.

[21] Rather, do this: show me the way by which I may arrive at those things. Tell what I ought to avoid, what to seek, by what studies I may strengthen a wavering mind, how I may repel from me the things which strike me athwart and drive me far off my course, how I can be equal to so many evils, how I may remove those calamities which have broken in upon me, how I may deal with those into which I myself have rushed. Teach how I may bear hardship without my own groan, felicity without another’s, how I may not await the final and necessary, but I myself, when it shall seem good, may make my escape.

[22] Nihil mihi videtur turpius quam optare mortem. Nam si vis vivere, quid optas mori? sive non vis, quid deos rogas quod tibi nascenti dederunt?

[22] Nothing seems to me more shameful than to opt for death. For if you wish to live, why do you opt to die? Or if you do not wish it, why do you ask the gods for what they granted to you at your birth?

Nam ut quandoque moriaris etiam invito positum est, ut cum voles in tua manu est; alterum tibi necesse est, alterum licet.

For that you die sometime is set, even against your will; that you do so when you wish is in your hand; the one is necessary for you, the other is permitted.

[23] Turpissimum his diebus principium diserti mehercules viri legi: 'ita[que]' inquit 'quam primum moriar'. Homo demens, optas rem tuam. 'Ita quam primum moriar.' Fortasse inter has voces senex factus es; alioqui quid in mora est? Nemo te tenet: evade qua visum est; elige quamlibet rerum naturae partem, quam tibi praebere exitum iubeas.

[23] The most shameful opening, by Hercules, of an eloquent man I have read these days: 'so[and so],' he says, 'may I die as soon as possible.' Mindless man, you opt for what is yours. 'So, may I die as soon as possible.' Perhaps in the midst of these words you have become an old man; otherwise, what is the delay? No one holds you: evade by whatever way seems good; choose any part of nature’s realm that you bid to provide you an exit.

Haec nempe sunt et elementa quibus hic mundus administratur; aqua, terra, spiritus, omnia ista tam causae vivendi sunt quam viae mortis.

These, to be sure, are also the elements by which this world is administered; water, earth, spirit, all these are as much causes of living as ways of death.

[24] 'Ita quam primum moriar': 'quam primum' istud quid esse vis? quem illi diem ponis? citius fieri quam optas potest.

[24] 'So, that I may die as soon as possible': what do you want that 'as soon as possible' to be? what day do you set for it? it can happen more quickly than you desire.

Inbecillae mentis ista sunt verba et hac detestatione misericordiam captantis: non vult mori qui optat. Deos vitam et salutem roga: si mori placuit, hic mortis est fructus, optare desinere.

These are words of an imbecile mind and of one trying by this detestation to capture mercy: he who opts for it does not want to die. Ask the gods for life and health: if it has pleased you to die, this is the fruit of death—to cease to desire.

[25] Haec, mi Lucili, tractemus, his formemus animum. Hoc est sapientia, hoc est sapere, non disputatiunculis inanibus subtilitatem vanissimam agitare. Tot quaestiones fortuna tibi posuit, nondum illas solvisti: iam cavillaris?

[25] These things, my Lucilius, let us treat; by these let us form the mind. This is wisdom, this is to be wise, not to agitate a most vain subtlety with inane little disputations. So many questions has Fortune posed to you, you have not yet solved them: are you already caviling?

Quam stultum est, cum signum pugnae acceperis, ventilare. Remove ista lusoria arma: decretoriis opus est. Dic qua ratione nulla animum tristitia, nulla formido perturbet, qua ratione hoc secretarum cupiditatium pondus effundam.

How foolish it is, when you have received the signal for battle, to be brandishing about. Remove those toy arms: there is need of decisive ones. Say by what rationale no sadness, no dread may perturb the mind, by what rationale I may pour out this weight of hidden desires.

Agatur aliquid.

Let something be done.

[26] 'Sapientia bonum est, sapere non est bonum': sic fit negemur sapere, ut hoc totum studium derideatur tamquam operatum supervacuis.

[26] 'Wisdom is a good; to be wise is not a good': thus it comes about we are denied wisdom, so that this whole study is derided as though busied with superfluities.

Quid si scires etiam illud quaeri, an bonum sit futura sapientia? Quid enim dubi est, oro te, an nec messem futuram iam sentiant horrea nec futuram adulescentiam pueritia viribus aut ullo robore intellegat? Aegro interim nil ventura sanitas prodest, non magis quam currentem luctantemque post multos secuturum menses otium reficit.

What if you knew this too is being asked, whether future wisdom is a good? For what doubt is there, I beg you, whether granaries do not already perceive a future harvest, nor does childhood by strengths or by any vigor understand a future adolescence? Meanwhile, coming health profits nothing to the sick man, no more than leisure that will follow after many months refreshes one who is running and wrestling.

[27] Quis nescit hoc ipso non esse bonum id quod futurum est, quia futurum est? Nam quod bonum est utique prodest; nisi praesentia prodesse non possunt. Si non prodest, bonum non est; si prodest, iam est.

[27] Who does not know that by this very fact that which will be is not a good, because it will be? For what is good certainly profits; only things present can profit. If it does not profit, it is not a good; if it does profit, it already is.

Futurus sum sapiens; hoc bonum erit cum fuero: interim non est. Prius aliquid esse debet, deinde quale esse.

I shall be sapient; this will be a good when I shall have been; in the interim it is not. First something must be, then what quality it is.

[28] Quomodo, oro te, quod adhuc nihil est iam bonum est? Quomodo autem tibi magis vis probari non esse aliquid quam si dixero 'futurum est'? nondum enim venisse apparet quod veniet. Ver secuturum est: scio nunc hiemem esse.

[28] How, I beseech you, can that which is as yet nothing already be a good? And how, moreover, would you prefer it to be proved to you that something is not, than if I say 'it will be'? For it is evident that what will come has not yet come. Spring will follow: I know that it is now winter.

Aestas secutura est: scio aestatem non esse. Maximum argumentum habeo nondum praesentis futurum esse.

Summer will follow: I know it is not summer. I have the strongest argument that the not‑yet‑present will be.

[29] Sapiam, spero, sed interim non sapio; si illud bonum haberem, iam hoc carerem malo. Futurum est ut sapiam: ex hoc licet nondum sapere me intellegas. Non possum simul et in illo bono et in hoc malo esse; duo ista non coeunt nec apud eundem sunt una malum et bonum.

[29] I shall be wise, I hope, but meanwhile I am not wise; if I had that good, I would already be without this evil. It will come to pass that I shall be wise: from this you may understand that I am not yet wise. I cannot at the same time be both in that good and in this evil; those two do not cohere, nor are evil and good together in the same person.

[30] Transcurramus sollertissimas nugas et ad illa quae nobis aliquam opem sunt latura properemus. Nemo qui obstetricem parturienti filiae sollicitus accersit edictum et ludorum ordinem perlegit; nemo qui ad incendium domus suae currit tabulam latrunculariam prospicit ut sciat quomodo alligatus exeat calculus.

[30] Let us skim past the most skillful trifles and hasten to those things which are going to bring us some help. No one who, solicitous, summons a midwife for his daughter in labor reads through the edict and the order of the games; no one who runs to a fire at his own house looks over a latrunculi board so that he may know how a bound piece might get out.

[31] At mehercule omnia tibi undique nuntiantur, et incendium domus et periculum liberorum et obsidio patriae et bonorum direptio; adice isto naufragia motusque terrarum et quidquid aliud timeri potest: inter ista districtus rebus nihil aliud quam animum oblectantibus vacas? Quid inter sapientiam et sapere intersit inquiris? nodos nectis ac solvis tanta mole inpendente capiti tuo?

[31] But, by Hercules, everything is announced to you from every side—both the conflagration of your house and the peril of your children and the siege of your fatherland and the plundering of your goods; add to that shipwrecks and earthquakes and whatever else can be feared: amid these things, distracted, do you have leisure for nothing other than things that amuse the mind? You inquire what difference there is between wisdom and being wise? you tie and untie knots while so great a mass is hanging over your head?

[32] Non tam benignum ac liberale tempus natura nobis dedit ut aliquid ex illo vacet perdere. Et vide quam multa etiam diligentissimis pereant: aliud valetudo sua cuique abstulit, aliud suorum; aliud necessaria negotia, aliud publica occupaverunt; vitam nobiscum dividit somnus. Ex hoc tempore tam angusto et rapido et nos auferente quid iuvat maiorem partem mittere in vanum?

[32] Nature has not given us so benign and liberal a time that any portion of it is free to squander. And see how many things are lost even to the most diligent: one portion each man’s own health has taken away, another the health of his loved ones; some has necessary business occupied, some public business; sleep divides our life with us. From this time so narrow and rapid and carrying us away, what does it avail to send the greater part into the void?

[33] Adice nunc quod adsuescit animus delectare se potius quam sanare et philosophiam oblectamentum facere cum remedium sit. Inter sapientiam et sapere quid intersit nescio: scio mea non interesse sciam ista an nesciam. Dic mihi: cum quid inter sapientiam et sapere intersit didicero, sapiam?

[33] Add now this, that the mind gets accustomed to delighting itself rather than healing itself, and to make philosophy an oblectation when it is a remedy. What difference there is between sapience and being wise I do not know: I know it makes no difference to me whether I know these things or do not know them. Tell me: when I have learned what difference lies between sapience and being wise, shall I be wise?

Cur ergo potius inter vocabula me sapientiae detines quam inter opera? Fac me fortiorem, fac securiorem, fac fortunae parem, fac superiorem. Possum autem superior esse si derexero <eo> omne quod disco.

Why then do you rather detain me among the vocabulary of wisdom than among the works? Make me stronger, make me more secure, make me equal to Fortune, make me superior. Moreover, I can be superior if I direct thither all that I learn.

Vale.

Farewell.