Seneca: EPISTULAE MORALES AD LUCILIUM

[1] Minus tibi accuratas a me epistulas mitti quereris. Quis enim accurate loquitur nisi qui vult putide loqui? Qualis sermo meus esset si una desideremus aut ambularemus, inlaboratus et facilis, tales esse epistulas meas volo, quae nihil habent accersitum nec fictum.

[1] You complain that less carefully polished letters are sent to you by me. For who speaks accurately except the one who wants to speak putridly—i.e., pedantically? Such as my conversation would be if we were together, whether sitting together or walking—unlabored and easy—such I want my letters to be, which have nothing adscititious nor fictitious.

[2] Si fieri posset, quid sentiam ostendere quam loqui mallem. Etiam si disputarem, nec supploderem pedem nec manum iactarem nec attollerem vocem, sed ista oratoribus reliquissem, contentus sensus meos ad te pertulisse, quos nec exornassem nec abiecissem.

[2] If it could be done, I would prefer to show what I feel rather than to speak. Even if I were disputing, I would neither stamp my foot nor toss my hand nor raise my voice, but would have left those things to orators, content to have carried my thoughts to you, which I would neither have adorned nor debased.

[3] Hoc unum plane tibi adprobare vellem, omnia me illa sentire quae dicerem, nec tantum sentire sed amare. Aliter homines amicam, aliter liberos osculantur; tamen in hoc quoque amplexu tam sancto et moderato satis apparet adfectus. Non mehercules ieiuna esse et arida volo quae de rebus tam magnis dicentur (neque enim philosophia ingenio renuntiat), multum tamen operae inpendi verbis non oportet.

[3] I would plainly wish to make this one thing clear to you: that I feel all those things which I say, and not only feel them but love them. Men kiss a mistress one way, their children another; yet in this embrace too, so sacred and restrained, the affection is quite apparent. By Hercules, I do not want what will be said about matters so great to be jejune and arid (for philosophy does not renounce genius), yet much effort ought not to be expended on words.

[4] Haec sit propositi nostri summa: quod sentimus loquamur, quod loquimur sentiamus; concordet sermo cum vita. Ille promissum suum implevit qui et cum videas illum et cum audias idem est. Videbimus qualis sit, quantus sit: unus est.

[4] Let this be the summa of our purpose: let us speak what we think, let us think what we speak; let discourse be in concord with life. He has fulfilled his promise who is the same both when you see him and when you hear him. We shall see of what quality he is, how great he is: he is one.

[5] Non delectent verba nostra sed prosint. Si tamen contingere eloquentia non sollicito potest, si aut parata est aut parvo constat, adsit et res pulcherrimas prosequatur: sit talis ut res potius quam se ostendat. Aliae artes ad ingenium totae pertinent, hic animi negotium agitur.

[5] Let not our words delight but benefit. If, however, eloquence can be attained without solicitude—if either it is ready or comes at small cost—let it be present and accompany the most beautiful matters: let it be such as to display the matter rather than itself. Other arts pertain wholly to genius; here the business of the soul is transacted.

[6] Non quaerit aeger medicum eloquentem, sed si ita competit ut idem ille qui sanare potest compte de iis quae facienda sunt disserat, boni consulet. Non tamen erit quare gratuletur sibi quod inciderit in medicum etiam disertum; hoc enim tale est quale si peritus gubernator etiam formosus est.

[6] The sick man does not seek an eloquent medic; but if it so happens that the very same one who can heal also discourses neatly about the things that must be done, he will take it as a good thing. Nevertheless, there will be no reason for him to congratulate himself that he has happened upon a medic who is also articulate; for this is the sort of thing as if an expert helmsman were also handsome.

[7] Quid aures meas scabis? quid oblectas? aliud agitur: urendus, secandus, abstinendus sum.

[7] Why are you scratching my ears? why are you entertaining me? another matter is at hand: I must be cauterized, incised, put under abstinence.

Ad haec adhibitus es; curare debes morbum veterem, gravem, publicum; tantum negotii habes quantum in pestilentia medicus. Circa verba occupatus es? iamdudum gaude si sufficis rebus. Quando tam multa disces?

For this you have been called in; you must treat a disease old, grave, and public; you have as much business as a physician has in a pestilence. Are you occupied with words? By now, be glad if you suffice for the matters. When will you learn so many things?

quando quae didiceris adfiges tibi ita ut excidere non possint? quando illa experieris? Non enim, ut cetera, memoriae tradidisse satis est: in opere temptanda sunt; non est beatus qui scit illa, sed <qui> facit.

when will you affix to yourself the things you have learned in such a way that they cannot fall out? when will you experience them? For it is not enough, as with other things, to have consigned them to memory: they must be tested in work; he is not blessed who knows them, but <who> does them.

[8] 'Quid ergo? infra illum nulli gradus sunt? statim a sapientia praeceps est?' Non, ut existimo; nam qui proficit in numero quidem stultorum est, magno tamen intervallo ab illis diducitur.

[8] 'What then? Are there no steps below him? Is it at once a headlong plunge from wisdom?' No, as I think; for he who makes progress is indeed in the number of fools, yet he is separated from them by a great interval.

Inter ipsos quoque proficientes sunt magna discrimina: in tres classes, ut quibusdam placet, dividuntur.

Even among the proficients themselves there are great distinctions: they are divided into three classes, as it pleases certain persons.

[9] Primi sunt qui sapientiam nondum habent sed iam in vicinia eius constiterunt; tamen etiam quod prope est extra est. Qui sint hi quaeris? qui omnes iam adfectus ac vitia posuerunt, quae erant conplectenda didicerunt, sed illis adhuc inexperta fiducia est.

[9] The first are those who do not yet have wisdom but have already taken their stand in its vicinity; yet even what is near is outside. You ask who these are? Those who have now laid down all affections and vices, who have learned the things that were to be embraced, but whose confidence is still untried.

Bonum suum nondum in usu habent, iam tamen in illa quae fugerunt decidere non possunt; iam ibi sunt unde non est retro lapsus, sed hoc illis de se nondum liquet: quod in quadam epistula scripsisse me memini, 'scire se nesciunt'. Iam contigit illis bono suo frui, nondum confidere.

They do not yet have their good in use, yet now they cannot fall back into those things which they have fled; now they are there whence there is no retro lapse, but this is not yet clear to them about themselves: as I remember to have written in a certain letter, ‘they do not know that they know.’ Already it has befallen them to enjoy their own good, not yet to have confidence.

[10] Quidam hoc proficientium genus de quo locutus sum ita conplectuntur ut illos dicant iam effugisse morbos animi, adfectus nondum, et adhuc in lubrico stare, quia nemo sit extra periculum malitiae nisi qui totam eam excussit; nemo autem illam excussit nisi qui pro illa sapientiam adsumpsit.

[10] Certain people comprehend this class of the progressing about which I have spoken in such a way that they say that they have already escaped the diseases of the mind, not yet the affections, and that they still stand on slippery ground, because no one is outside the peril of malice unless he has shaken it all off; and no one has shaken it off unless he has assumed wisdom in its stead.

[11] Quid inter morbos animi intersit et adfectus saepe iam dixi. Nunc quoque te admonebo: morbi sunt inveterata vitia et dura, ut avaritia, ut ambitio; nimio artius haec animum inplicuerunt et perpetua eius mala esse coeperunt. Ut breviter finiam, morbus est iudicium in pravo pertinax, tamquam valde expetenda sint quae leviter expetenda sunt; vel, si mavis, ita finiamus: nimis inminere leviter petendis vel ex toto non petendis, aut in magno pretio habere in aliquo habenda vel in nullo.

[11] What the difference is between diseases of the mind and passions I have often already said. Now too I will remind you: diseases are inveterate and hard vices, as avarice, as ambition; these have entangled the mind too tightly and have begun to be its perpetual evils. To conclude briefly, a disease is a judgment stubbornly fixed on what is crooked, as though things that are to be sought lightly were to be sought greatly; or, if you prefer, let us finish thus: to press excessively upon things to be lightly sought or not sought at all, or to hold at a great price things that ought to be held at some price or at none.

[12] Adfectus sunt motus animi inprobabiles, subiti et concitati, qui frequentes neglectique fecere morbum, sicut destillatio una nec adhuc in morem adducta tussim facit, adsidua et vetus pthisin. Itaque qui plurimum profecere extra morbos sunt, adfectus adhuc sentiunt perfecto proximi.

[12] Affections (passions) are reprehensible motions of the mind, sudden and aroused, which, when frequent and left neglected, have produced a disease—just as a single distillation, not yet brought into a habit, does not make a cough, whereas a continual and long-standing one makes phthisis. And so those who have made the most progress are beyond diseases; they still feel affections, being nearest to the perfect.

[13] Secundum genus est eorum qui et maxima animi mala et adfectus deposuerunt, sed ita ut non sit illis securitatis suae certa possessio; possunt enim in eadem relabi.

[13] The second kind is of those who have put aside both the greatest evils of the mind and the affects, but in such a way that there is not for them a sure possession of their security; for they can relapse into the same.

[14] Tertium illud genus extra multa et magna vitia est, sed non extra omnia. Effugit avaritiam sed iram adhuc sentit; iam non sollicitatur libidine, etiamnunc ambitione; iam non concupiscit, sed adhuc timet, et in ipso metu ad quaedam satis firmus est, quibusdam cedit: mortem contemnit, dolorem reformidat.

[14] The third kind is outside many and great vices, but not outside all. It has escaped avarice but still feels anger; now it is not agitated by libido, yet even now by ambition; now it does not covet, but still it fears, and in the very fear it is sufficiently firm with respect to certain things, to some it yields: it contemns death, it dreads pain.

[15] De hoc loco aliquid cogitemus: bene nobiscum agetur, si in hunc admittimur numerum. Magna felicitate naturae magnaque et adsidua intentione studii secundus occupatur gradus; sed ne hic quidem contemnendus est color tertius. Cogita quantum circa te videas malorum; aspice quam nullum sit nefas sine exemplo, quantum cotidie nequitia proficiat, quantum publice privatimque peccetur: intelleges satis nos consequi, si inter pessimos non sumus.

[15] Let us think something about this position: it will go well with us, if we are admitted into this number. The second step is won by great felicity of nature and by great and assiduous application of study; but not even this third color is to be despised. Consider how many evils you see around you; look how there is no nefarious act without precedent, how much wickedness makes progress every day, how much there is sinning publicly and privately: you will understand that we achieve enough, if we are not among the worst.

[16] 'Ego vero' inquis 'spero me posse et amplioris ordinis fieri.' Optaverim hoc nobis magis quam promiserim: praeoccupati sumus, ad virtutem contendimus inter vitia districti. Pudet dicere: honesta colimus quantum vacat. At quam grande praemium expectat, si occupationes nostras et mala tenacissima abrumpimus!

[16] 'I indeed,' you say, 'hope that I can even be made of a more ample order.' I would wish this for us rather than I would promise it: we are preoccupied, we contend toward virtue constrained among vices. It is shameful to say: we cultivate honorable things insofar as there is leisure. But how great a reward awaits, if we break off our occupations and the most tenacious evils!

[17] Non cupiditas nos, non timor pellet; inagitati terroribus, incorrupti voluptatibus, nec mortem horrebimus nec deos; sciemus mortem malum non esse, deos malo non esse. Tam inbecillum est quod nocet quam cui nocetur: optima vi noxia carent.

[17] Neither cupidity nor fear will drive us; unagitated by terrors, uncorrupted by pleasures, we shall dread neither death nor the gods; we shall know that death is not an evil, that the gods are not evil. As feeble is that which harms as that which is harmed: the best things, by their power, are devoid of noxiousness.

[18] Expectant nos, ex hac aliquando faece in illud evadimus sublime et excelsum, tranquillitas animi et expulsis erroribus absoluta libertas. Quaeris quae sit ista? Non homines timere, non deos; nec turpia velle nec nimia; in se ipsum habere maximam potestatem: inaestimabile bonum est suum fieri.

[18] They await us, if we ever escape from these dregs into that sublime and exalted height, tranquility of mind and, with errors expelled, absolute liberty. You ask what that is? To fear neither men nor gods; to will neither shameful things nor excessive ones; to have the greatest power over oneself: it is an inestimable good to become one’s own.

Vale.

Farewell.

LXXVI. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

76. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Inimicitias mihi denuntias si quicquam ex iis quae cotidie facio ignoraveris. Vide quam simpliciter tecum vivam: hoc quoque tibi committam. Philosophum audio et quidem quintum iam diem habeo ex quo in scholam eo et ab octava disputantem audio.

[1] You proclaim enmity against me if you are ignorant of anything of the things I do every day. See how simply I live with you: this too I will commit to you. I listen to a philosopher, and indeed for the fifth day now I have been going to the school and I listen to him disputing from the eighth hour.

'Bona' inquis 'aetate.' Quidni bona? quid autem stultius est quam quia diu non didiceris non discere?

'Good,' you say, 'at your age.' Why not good? and what, moreover, is more foolish than not to learn because you have for a long time not learned?

[2] 'Quid ergo? idem faciam quod trossuli et iuvenes?' Bene mecum agitur si hoc unum senectutem meam dedecet: omnis aetatis homines haec schola admittit. 'In hoc senescamus, ut iuvenes sequamur?' In theatrum senex ibo et in circum deferar et nullum par sine me depugnabit: ad philosophum ire erubescam?

[2] 'What then? shall I do the same as the trossuli and the youths?' It goes well with me if this alone disgraces my old age: this school admits men of every age. 'Shall we grow old in this, in order that we may follow the youths?' As an old man I will go to the theater and be carried to the circus, and no pair will fight without me: shall I blush to go to the philosopher?

[3] Tamdiu discendum est quamdiu nescias; si proverbio credimus, quamdiu vivas. Nec ulli hoc rei magis convenit quam huic: tamdiu discendum est quemadmodum vivas quamdiu vivas. Ego tamen illic aliquid et doceo.

[3] One must keep learning for as long as you do not know; if we believe the proverb, for as long as you live. Nor does this agree with any matter more than with this one: one must keep learning how to live for as long as one lives. I, however, also teach something there.

Quaeris quid doceam? etiam seni esse discendum.

You ask what I teach? That even an old man must learn.

[4] Pudet autem me generis humani quotiens scholam intravi. Praeter ipsum theatrum Neapolitanorum, ut scis, transeundum est Metronactis petenti domum. Illud quidem fartum est, et ingenti studio quis sit pythaules bonus iudicatur; habet tubicen quoque Graecus et praeco concursum: at in illo loco in quo vir bonus quaeritur, in quo vir bonus discitur, paucissimi sedent, et hi plerisque videntur nihil boni negotii habere quod agant; inepti et inertes vocantur.

[4] But I am ashamed of the human race whenever I have entered the school. Past the theatre itself of the Neapolitans, as you know, one must pass when seeking Metronax’s house. That, indeed, is crammed, and with huge zeal it is adjudged who is a good pythaules (flute‑player); the Greek trumpeter too and the crier have a concourse: but in that place where the good man is sought, where the good man is learned, very few sit, and these seem to most people to have no good business that they are about; they are called inept and inert.

Mihi contingat iste derisus: aequo animo audienda sunt inperitorum convicia et ad honesta vadenti contemnendus est ipse contemptus.

Let that derision befall me: the revilings of the unskilled must be heard with an even mind, and for one going toward honorable things, contempt itself is to be contemned.

[5] Perge, Lucili, et propera, ne tibi accidat quod mihi, ut senex discas; immo ideo magis propera quoniam id nunc adgressus es quod perdiscere vix senex possis. 'Quantum' inquis 'proficiam?' Quantum temptaveris.

[5] Go on, Lucilius, and make haste, lest what befell me befall you, that you learn as an old man; nay rather, for that very reason hasten the more, since you have now undertaken that which you can scarcely learn through-and-through as an old man. 'How much,' you ask, 'shall I make progress?' As much as you will have attempted.

[6] Quid expectas? nulli sapere casu obtigit. Pecunia veniet ultro, honor offeretur, gratia ac dignitas fortasse ingerentur tibi: virtus in te non incidet.

[6] What do you expect? Wisdom has befallen no one by chance. Money will come unbidden, honor will be offered, favor and dignity perhaps will be thrust upon you: virtue will not fall upon you.

Ne levi quidem opera aut parvo labore cognoscitur; sed est tanti laborare omnia bona semel occupaturo. Unum est enim bonum quod honestum: in illis nihil invenies veri, nihil certi, quaecumque famae placent.

It is not understood even by light effort or small labor; but it is worth the toil for him who will seize all goods at once. For the one good is what is honorable: in those things whatever please fame, you will find nothing true, nothing sure.

[7] Quare autem unum sit bonum quod honestum dicam, quoniam parum me exsecutum priore epistula iudicas magisque hanc rem tibi laudatam quam probatam putas, et in artum quae dicta sunt contraham.

[7] And why the one good is that which is honorable I will say, since you judge me to have set it forth too little in the prior epistle and think this matter more lauded to you than proved; and I will compress what has been said into a narrow compass.

[8] Omnia suo bono constant. Vitem fertilitas commendat et sapor vini, velocitas cervum; quam fortia dorso iumenta sint quaeris, quorum hic unus est usus, sarcinam ferre; in cane sagacitas prima est, si investigare debet feras, cursus, si consequi, audacia, si mordere et invadere: id in quoque optimum esse debet cui nascitur, quo censetur.

[8] All things consist in their own proper good. Fertility and the savor of the wine commend the vine, velocity the stag; you ask how strong pack-animals are in the back, of which this is the single use: to bear a burden; in a dog sagacity is foremost, if he ought to investigate wild beasts, running, if to overtake, audacity, if to bite and to assault: that ought to be best in each, for which it is born, by which it is rated.

[9] In homine quid est optimum? ratio: hac antecedit animalia, deos sequitur. Ratio ergo perfecta proprium bonum est, cetera illi cum animalibus satisque communia sunt.

[9] In a human being, what is best? reason: by this he precedes animals, he follows the gods. Therefore perfect reason is the proper good; the rest are for him sufficiently common with animals.

Valet: et leones. Formonsus est: et pavones. Velox est: et equi.

He is strong: and the lions. He is handsome: and the peacocks. He is swift: and the horses.

Non dico, in his omnibus vincitur; non quaero quid in se maximum habeat, sed quid suum. Corpus habet: et arbores. Habet impetum ac motum voluntarium: et bestiae et vermes.

I do not say he is surpassed in all these; I do not ask what he has greatest in himself, but what is his own. He has a body: so do trees. He has impetus and voluntary motion: so do beasts and worms.

Habet vocem: sed quanto clariorem canes, acutiorem aquilae, graviorem tauri, dulciorem mobilioremque luscinii?

He has a voice: yet how much clearer is that of dogs, how much more acute that of the eagle, how much graver that of the bull, how much sweeter and more mobile that of the nightingale?

[10] Quid est in homine proprium? ratio: haec recta et consummata felicitatem hominis implevit. Ergo si omnis res, cum bonum suum perfecit, laudabilis est et ad finem naturae suae pervenit, homini autem suum bonum ratio est, si hanc perfecit laudabilis est et finem naturae suae tetigit.

[10] What is proper in man? Reason: this, when right and consummate, has fulfilled the felicity of man. Therefore, if every thing, when it has perfected its own good, is praiseworthy and has reached the end of its nature, but for man his own good is reason, then if he has perfected this he is praiseworthy and has touched the end of his nature.

Haec ratio perfecta virtus vocatur eademque honestum est.

This perfected reason is called virtue, and the same is the honorable.

[11] Id itaque unum bonum est in homine quod unum hominis est; nunc enim non quaerimus quid sit bonum, sed quid sit hominis bonum. Si nullum aliud est hominis quam ratio, haec erit unum eius bonum, sed pensandum cum omnibus. Si sit aliquis malus, puto inprobabitur; si bonus, puto probabitur.

[11] Therefore that one good in man is that which is the one thing proper to man; for now we are not seeking what the good is, but what the good of man is. If nothing else belongs to man than reason, this will be his one good, but it must be weighed with all things. If someone be wicked, I think he will be disapproved; if good, I think he will be approved.

Id ergo in homine primum solumque est quo et probatur et inprobatur.

Therefore, in man this is the first and only thing by which he is both approved and disapproved.

[12] Non dubitas an hoc sit bonum; dubitas an solum bonum sit. Si quis omnia alia habeat, valetudinem, divitias, imagines multas, frequens atrium, sed malus ex confesso sit, inprobabis illum; item si quis nihil quidem eorum quae rettuli habeat, deficiatur pecunia, clientium turba, nobilitate et avorum proavorumque serie, sed ex confesso bonus sit, probabis illum. Ergo hoc unum est bonum hominis, quod qui habet, etiam si aliis destituitur, laudandus est, quod qui non habet in omnium aliorum copia damnatur ac reicitur.

[12] You do not doubt whether this is the good; you doubt whether it is the sole good. If someone should have all other things—health, riches, many images, a crowded atrium—yet be confessedly wicked, you will disapprove him; likewise, if someone should have none of the things I have listed, be lacking in money, in a throng of clients, in nobility and the series of grandfathers and great-grandfathers, yet be confessedly good, you will approve him. Therefore this one thing is the good of man: whoever has it, even if he is destitute of the others, is to be praised; whoever does not have it, amid a plentitude of all the others, is condemned and rejected.

[13] Quae condicio rerum, eadem hominum est: navis bona dicitur non quae pretiosis coloribus picta est nec cui argenteum aut aureum rostrum est nec cuius tutela ebore caelata est nec quae fiscis atque opibus regiis pressa est, sed stabilis et firma et iuncturis aquam excludentibus spissa, ad ferendum incursum maris solida, gubernaculo parens, velox et non sentiens ventum;

[13] The same condition of things is that of men: a ship is called good not the one which has been painted with precious colors, nor the one whose ram (rostrum) is silver or golden, nor whose protective image (tutela) is carved in ivory, nor the one weighed down with money-chests and royal resources, but the one that is stable and firm and tight in its water-excluding joints, solid to bear the inrush of the sea, obedient to the helm, swift and not feeling the wind;

[14] gladium bonum dices non cui auratus est balteus nec cuius vagina gemmis distinguitur, sed cui et ad secandum subtilis acies est et mucro munimentum omne rupturus; regula non quam formosa, sed quam recta sit quaeritur: eo quidque laudatur cui comparatur, quod illi proprium est.

[14] you will call a sword good not the one whose baldric is gilded nor whose scabbard is distinguished with gems, but the one that has a fine edge for cutting and a point that will break through every muniment; the rule is examined not for how shapely it is, but how straight it is: by that standard each thing is praised to which it is compared—what is proper to it.

[15] Ergo in homine quoque nihil ad rem pertinet quantum aret, quantum feneret, a quam multis salutetur, quam pretioso incumbat lecto, quam perlucido poculo bibat, sed quam bonus sit. Bonus autem est si ratio eius explicita et recta est et ad naturae suae voluntatem accommodata.

[15] Therefore, in a man too, nothing pertains to the matter—how much he plows, how much he lends at interest, by how many he is greeted, on how precious a couch he reclines, from how pellucid a cup he drinks—but how good he is. Moreover, he is good if his reason is explicit and straight and accommodated to the will of his nature.

[16] Haec vocatur virtus, hoc est honestum et unicum hominis bonum. Nam cum sola ratio perficiat hominem, sola ratio perfecte beatum facit; hoc autem unum bonum est quo uno beatus efficitur. Dicimus et illa bona esse quae a virtute profecta contractaque sunt, id est opera eius omnia; sed ideo unum ipsa bonum est quia nullum sine illa est.

[16] This is called virtue, that is, the honorable and the unique good of a human being. For since reason alone perfects a human, reason alone makes him perfectly blessed; and this is the one good by which alone one is made blessed. We also say that those things are goods which have proceeded from virtue and are comprised in it, that is, all its works; but for this reason virtue itself is the single good, because there is none without it.

[17] Si omne in animo bonum est, quidquid illum confirmat, extollit, amplificat, bonum est; validiorem autem animum et excelsiorem et ampliorem facit virtus. Nam cetera quae cupiditates nostras inritant deprimunt quoque animum et labefaciunt et cum videntur attollere inflant ac multa vanitate deludunt. Ergo id unum bonum est quo melior animus efficitur.

[17] If all good is in the mind, whatever confirms it, exalts it, amplifies it, is good; but virtue makes the mind more robust, more exalted, and more ample. For the other things which excite our cupidities also depress the mind and make it totter, and when they seem to raise it up, they inflate it and delude with much vanity. Therefore that alone is the good by which the mind is made better.

[18] Omnes actiones totius vitae honesti ac turpis respectu temperantur; ad haec faciendi et non faciendi ratio derigitur. Quid sit hoc dicam: vir bonus quod honeste se facturum putaverit faciet etiam [sine pecunia] si laboriosum erit, faciet etiam si damnosum erit, faciet etiam si periculosum erit; rursus quod turpe erit non faciet, etiam si pecuniam adferet, etiam si voluptatem, etiam si potentiam; ab honesto nulla re deterrebitur, ad turpia nulla invitabitur.

[18] All actions of an entire life are tempered with respect to the honorable and the base; to these the reason of doing and not doing is directed. I will say what this is: the good man will do whatever he judges to be honorable, even [without money], he will do it even if it will be laborious, he will do it even if it will be costly, he will do it even if it will be perilous; conversely, what will be base he will not do, even if it will bring money, even if pleasure, even if power; from the honorable he will be deterred by nothing, to base things he will be invited by nothing.

[19] Ergo si honestum utique secuturus est, turpe utique vitaturus, et in omni actu vitae spectaturus haec duo, nec aliud malum quam turpe, si una indepravata virtus est et sola permanet tenoris sui, unum est bonum virtus, cui iam accidere ne sit bonum non potest. Mutationis periculum effugit: stultitia ad sapientiam erepit, sapientia in stultitiam non revolvitur.

[19] Therefore, if he is assuredly going to follow the honest, assuredly going to avoid the turpid, and in every act of life going to look to these two, nor any other evil than the turpid, if virtue is one, undepraved, and alone remains in its own tenor, virtue is the one good, to which it can no longer befall not to be good. It escapes the peril of mutation: folly creeps up to sapience, sapience is not rolled back into folly.

[20] Dixi, si forte meministi, et concupita vulgo et formidata inconsulto impetu plerosque calcasse: inventus est qui divitias proiceret, inventus est qui flammis manum inponeret, cuius risum non interrumperet tortor, qui in funere liberorum lacrimam non mitteret, qui morti non trepidus occurreret; amor enim, ira, cupiditas pericula depoposcerunt. Quod potest brevis obstinatio animi, aliquo stimulo excitata, quanto magis virtus, quae non ex impetu nec subito sed aequaliter valet, cui perpetuum robur est?

[20] I said, if perchance you remember, that both things commonly coveted and things feared have, by unconsidered impetus, been trampled underfoot by many: there has been found one who would cast away riches, one who would place his hand in the flames, one whose laughter the torturer would not interrupt, one who would not shed a tear at the funeral of his children, one who would meet death without trepidation; for love, anger, cupidity have demanded dangers. What a brief obstinacy of spirit, roused by some stimulus, can accomplish—how much more virtue, which is strong not from impulse nor all of a sudden but evenly, which has perpetual vigor?

[21] Sequitur ut quae ab inconsultis saepe contemnuntur, a sapientibus semper, ea nec bona sint nec mala. Unum ergo bonum ipsa virtus est, quae inter hanc fortunam et illam superba incedit cum magno utriusque contemptu.

[21] It follows that the things which are often contemned by the unadvised, and always by the wise, are neither good nor bad. Therefore the one good is virtue itself, which strides proudly between this fortune and that with great contempt of both.

[22] Si hanc opinionem receperis, aliquid bonum esse praeter honestum, nulla non virtus laborabit; nulla enim obtineri poterit si quicquam extra se respexerit. Quod si est, rationi repugnat, ex qua virtutes sunt, et veritati, quae sine ratione non est; quaecumque autem opinio veritati repugnat falsa est.

[22] If you have received this opinion, that there is some good besides the honorable, no virtue will fail to labor; for none can be maintained if it should look outside itself to anything. But if that is so, it is repugnant to reason, from which virtues are, and to truth, which is not without reason; and whatever opinion is repugnant to truth is false.

[23] Virum bonum concedas necesse est summae pietatis erga deos esse. Itaque quidquid illi accidit aequo animo sustinebit; sciet enim id accidisse lege divina qua universa procedunt. Quod si est, unum illi bonum erit quod honestum; in hoc enim positum et parere diis nec excandescere ad subita nec deplorare sortem suam, sed patienter excipere fatum et facere imperata.

[23] You must concede that a good man is of the highest piety toward the gods. And so whatever happens to him he will sustain with an even mind; for he will know that it has happened by the divine law by which the universe proceeds. If this is so, one good alone will be his, that which is honorable; for in this is set both to obey the gods and not to blaze up at sudden things nor to deplore his lot, but to receive fate patiently and to do what is commanded.

[24] Si ullum aliud est bonum quam honestum, sequetur nos aviditas vitae, aviditas rerum vitam instruentium, quod est intolerabile, infinitum, vagum. Solum ergo bonum est honestum, cui modus est.

[24] If there is any other good than the honorable, an avidity for life will follow us, an avidity for the things that furnish life—which is intolerable, infinite, wandering. Therefore the only good is the honorable, which has measure.

[25] Diximus futuram hominum feliciorem vitam quam deorum, si ea bona sunt quorum nullus diis usus est, tamquam pecunia, honores. Adice nunc quod, si modo solutae corporibus animae manent, felicior illis status restat quam est dum versantur in corpore. Atqui si ista bona sunt quibus per corpora utimur, emissis erit peius, quod contra fidem est, feliciores esse liberis et in universum datis clusas et obsessas.

[25] We have said that the life of men would be more felicitous than that of the gods, if those are goods of which the gods have no use, such as money and honors. Add now that, if only souls loosed from bodies remain, a more felicitous status awaits them than it is while they are conversant in a body. But if those are goods which we use through bodies, it will be worse for those sent out, which is against credence: that those shut in and besieged are more felicitous than the free and, in general, those given over to the universe.

[26] Illud quoque dixeram, si bona sunt ea quae tam homini contingunt quam mutis animalibus, et muta animalia beatam vitam actura; quod fieri nullo modo potest. Omnia pro honesto patienda sunt; quod non erat faciendum si esset ullum aliud bonum quam honestum.

[26] I had said this, too: if those are goods which befall a human no less than mute animals, then mute animals also are going to lead a blessed life; which in no way can come to pass. Everything is to be endured for the sake of the honorable; which ought not to have been done if there were any other good than the honorable.

Haec quamvis latius exsecutus essem priore epistula, constrinxi et breviter percucurri.

Although I had set these things forth more broadly in the prior epistle, I compressed them and ran through them briefly.

[27] Numquam autem vera tibi opinio talis videbitur, nisi animum adleves et te ipse interroges, si res exegerit ut pro patria moriaris et salutem omnium civium tua redimas, an porrecturus sis cervicem non tantum patienter sed etiam libenter. Si hoc facturus es, nullum aliud bonum est; omnia enim relinquis ut hoc habeas. Vide quanta vis honesti sit: pro re publica morieris, etiam si statim facturus hoc eris cum scieris tibi esse faciendum.

[27] Never, however, will a true opinion of this sort seem to you, unless you raise your mind and ask yourself whether, if the situation should require that you die for your fatherland and redeem the safety of all the citizens at the price of your own life, you will extend your neck not only patiently but even willingly. If you are going to do this, there is no other good; for you relinquish everything in order to have this. See how great the force of the honorable is: you will die for the commonwealth, even if you will at once do this when you know it must be done by you.

[28] Interdum ex re pulcherrima magnum gaudium etiam exiguo tempore ac brevi capitur, et quamvis fructus operis peracti nullus ad defunctum exemptumque rebus humanis pertineat, ipsa tamen contemplatio futuri operis iuvat, et vir fortis ac iustus, cum mortis suae pretia ante se posuit, libertatem patriae, salutem omnium pro quibus dependit animam, in summa voluptate est et periculo suo fruitur.

[28] Sometimes from a most beautiful deed a great joy is taken even in a scant and brief time; and although no fruit of the completed work pertains to the defunct, removed from human affairs, nevertheless the very contemplation of the future work delights, and the brave and just man, when he has set before himself the prices of his death—the liberty of the fatherland, the safety of all for whom he pays out his life—is in the highest delight and enjoys his own peril.

[29] Sed ille quoque cui etiam hoc gaudium eripitur quod tractatio operis maximi et ultimi praestat, nihil cunctatus desiliet in mortem, facere recte pieque contentus. Oppone etiamnunc illi multa quae dehortentur, dic, 'factum tuum matura sequetur oblivio et parum grata existimatio civium'. Respondebit tibi, 'ista omnia extra opus meum sunt, ego ipsum contemplor; hoc esse honestum scio; itaque quocumque ducit ac vocat venio'.

[29] But that man too, from whom even this joy is snatched away which the handling of the greatest and final work affords, without any hesitation will leap down into death, content to act rightly and piously. Set against him even now many things that may dissuade, say, 'your deed will be followed by swift oblivion and the not-very-grateful esteem of the citizens.' He will answer you, 'all those things are outside my work, I contemplate the work itself; I know this to be honorable; and so wherever it leads and calls, I go.'

[30] Hoc ergo unum bonum est, quod non tantum perfectus animus sed generosus quoque et indolis bonae sentit: cetera levia sunt, mutabilia. Itaque sollicite possidentur; etiam si favente fortuna in unum congesta sunt, dominis suis incubant gravia et illos semper premunt, aliquando et inludunt.

[30] Therefore this alone is the good, which not only a perfected mind but also a generous one and of good inborn character perceives: the rest are light, changeable. And so they are possessed anxiously; even if, with Fortune favoring, they have been heaped together into one, they lie heavy upon their masters and always press them, and sometimes even make sport of them.

[31] Nemo ex istis quos purpuratos vides felix est, non magis quam ex illis quibus sceptrum et chlamydem in scaena fabulae adsignant: cum praesente populo lati incesserunt et coturnati, simul exierunt, excalceantur et ad staturam suam redeunt. Nemo istorum quos divitiae honoresque in altiore fastigio ponunt magnus est. Quare ergo magnus videtur?

[31] None of those whom you see purple-clad is happy, no more than those to whom on the stage of a play they assign the scepter and the chlamys: though, with the people present, they have strode broad-gaited and buskined, as soon as they exit, they are unshod and return to their own stature. None of those whom riches and honors place upon a loftier pinnacle is great. Why, then, does he seem great?

cum basi illum sua metiris. Non est magnus pumilio licet in monte constiterit; colossus magnitudinem suam servabit etiam si steterit in puteo.

since you measure him by his own base. A dwarf is not great, though he may have stood upon a mountain; a colossus will preserve his magnitude even if he should stand in a well.

[32] Hoc laboramus errore, sic nobis inponitur, quod neminem aestimamus eo quod est, sed adicimus illi et ea quibus adornatus est. Atqui cum voles veram hominis aestimationem inire et scire qualis sit, nudum inspice; ponat patrimonium, ponat honores et alia fortunae mendacia, corpus ipsum exuat: animum intuere, qualis quantusque sit, alieno an suo magnus.

[32] We labor under this error; thus are we imposed upon, that we estimate no one by that which he is, but we add to him also the things with which he is adorned. And so, when you wish to enter upon a true estimation of a man and to know of what sort he is, inspect him naked; let him set aside his patrimony, set aside honors and the other mendacities of Fortune, let him strip off the body itself: look upon the mind, of what kind and how great it is—great by another’s, or by its own.

[33] Si rectis oculis gladios micantes videt et si scit sua nihil interesse utrum anima per os an per iugulum exeat, beatum voca; si cum illi denuntiata sunt corporis tormenta et quae casu veniunt et quae potentioris iniuria, si vincula et exilia et vanas humanarum formidines mentium securus audit et dicit:

[33] If with steady eyes he sees the flashing swords, and if he knows it makes no difference to him whether the soul goes out through the mouth or through the jugular, call him blessed; if, when the torments of the body have been announced to him, both those that come by chance and those by the injury of one more powerful, if bonds and exiles and the empty terrors of human minds, he hears them with his mind secure and says:

'non ulla laborum,
o virgo, nova mi facies inopinave surgit;
omnia praecepi atque animo mecum ipse peregi.

'no aspect of labors,
o virgin, rises for me new or unforeseen;
I have anticipated all things and with my mind I myself have carried them through.

Tu hodie ista denuntias: ego semper denuntiavi mihi et hominem paravi ad humana.'

You today give notice of those things: I have always given notice to myself and have prepared the man for human things.'

[34] Praecogitati mali mollis ictus venit. At stultis et fortunae credentibus omnis videtur nova rerum et inopinata facies; magna autem pars est apud inperitos mali novitas. Hoc ut scias, ea quae putaverant aspera fortius, cum adsuevere, patiuntur.

[34] The stroke of a premeditated ill comes soft. But to fools and to those who trust in Fortune, every face of things seems new and inopinate; moreover, among the inexperienced, a great part of the evil is its novelty. That you may know this: once they have grown accustomed, they more stoutly endure the things they had thought harsh.

[35] Ideo sapiens adsuescit futuris malis, et quae alii diu patiendo levia faciunt hic levia facit diu cogitando. Audimus aliquando voces inperitorum dicentium 'sciebam hoc mihi restare': sapiens scit sibi omnia restare; quidquid factum est, dicit 'sciebam'. Vale.

[35] Therefore the wise man accustoms himself to future evils, and what others make light by long enduring, this one makes light by long cogitating. We sometimes hear the voices of the inexperienced saying 'I knew this remained for me': the wise man knows that everything remains for him; whatever has happened, he says 'I knew it'. Farewell.

LXXVII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

77. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Subito nobis hodie Alexandrinae naves apparuerunt, quae praemitti solent et nuntiare secuturae classis adventum: tabellarias vocant. Gratus illarum Campaniae aspectus est: omnis in pilis Puteolorum turba consistit et ex ipso genere velorum Alexandrinas quamvis in magna turba navium intellegit; solis enim licet siparum intendere, quod in alto omnes habent naves.

[1] Suddenly today Alexandrian ships appeared to us, which are accustomed to be sent ahead and to announce the arrival of the fleet that will follow: they call them tabellariae. Their sight is welcome to Campania: the whole crowd stands upon the piers of Puteoli and, from the very kind of their sails, recognizes the Alexandrian ships even in a great throng of vessels; for only they are permitted to stretch the siparum, which all ships have on the open sea.

[2] Nulla enim res aeque adiuvat cursum quam summa pars veli; illinc maxime navis urgetur. Itaque quotiens ventus increbruit maiorque est quam expedit, antemna summittitur: minus habet virium flatus ex humili. Cum intravere Capreas et promunturium ex quo

[2] For nothing so equally helps the course as the highest part of the sail; from there the ship is most driven. And so, whenever the wind has increased and is greater than is expedient, the yard is lowered: the blast has less strength from a low position. When they have entered Capri and the promontory from which

alta procelloso speculatur vertice Pallas,
ceterae velo iubentur esse contentae: siparum
Alexandrinarum insigne [indicium] est.

Pallas keeps watch from the high, stormy summit,
the rest are ordered to be content with sail: the siparum
is the badge [indication] of the Alexandrian ships.

[3] In hoc omnium discursu properantium ad litus magnam ex pigritia mea sensi voluptatem, quod epistulas meorum accepturus non properavi scire quis illic esset rerum mearum status, quid adferrent: olim iam nec perit quicquam mihi nec adquiritur. Hoc, etiam si senex non essem, fuerat sentiendum, nunc vero multo magis: quantulumcumque haberem, tamen plus iam mihi superesset viatici quam viae, praesertim cum eam viam simus ingressi quam peragere non est necesse.

[3] In this dashings-about of all hastening to the shore I felt great pleasure from my indolence, that, about to receive the epistles of my own people, I did not hurry to know what there was there of the status of my affairs, what they were bringing: for some time now nothing of mine perishes nor is anything acquired. This, even if I were not an old man, ought to have been realized, now indeed much more: however little I might have, nevertheless by now there would remain to me more viaticum than way, especially since we have entered upon that road which it is not necessary to complete.

[4] Iter inperfectum erit si in media parte aut citra petitum locum steteris: vita non est inperfecta si honesta est; ubicumque desines, si bene desines, tota est. Saepe autem et fortiter desinendum est et non ex maximis causis; nam nec eae maximae sunt quae nos tenent.

[4] The journey will be imperfect if you stand in the middle or short of the aimed-at place; life is not imperfect if it is honorable; wherever you stop, if you stop well, it is whole. But often one must also stop bravely, and not for the very greatest causes; for the things that hold us are not the greatest.

[5] Tullius Marcellinus, quem optime noveras, adulescens quietus et cito senex, morbo et non insanabili correptus sed longo et molesto et multa imperante, coepit deliberare de morte. Convocavit complures amicos. Unusquisque aut, quia timidus erat, id illi suadebat quod sibi suasisset, aut, quia adulator et blandus, id consilium dabat quod deliberanti gratius fore suspicabatur.

[5] Tullius Marcellinus, whom you knew very well, a quiet young man and quickly an old man, seized by a disease not incurable but long and troublesome and imposing many demands, began to deliberate about death. He convoked several friends. Each person either, because he was timid, was advising him that which he had advised himself, or, because he was an adulator and smooth, was giving that counsel which he suspected would be more pleasing to the one deliberating.

[6] Amicus noster Stoicus, homo egregius et, ut verbis illum quibus laudari dignus est laudem, vir fortis ac strenuus, videtur mihi optime illum cohortatus. Sic enim coepit: 'noli, mi Marcelline, torqueri tamquam de re magna deliberes. Non est res magna vivere: omnes servi tui vivunt, omnia animalia: magnum est honeste mori, prudenter, fortiter.

[6] Our friend the Stoic, a distinguished man and, that I may praise him with the words with which he is worthy to be praised, a brave and strenuous man, seems to me to have exhorted him most excellently. For he began thus: 'Do not, my Marcellinus, torment yourself as though you were deliberating about a great matter. To live is not a great matter: all your slaves live, all animals [do]: it is a great thing to die honorably, prudently, bravely.'

Cogita quamdiu iam idem facias: cibus, somnus, libido -- per hunc circulum curritur; mori velle non tantum prudens aut fortis aut miser, etiam fastidiosus potest.'

Consider how long now you have been doing the same things: food, sleep, libido -- one runs through this circle; not only the prudent or the brave or the wretched can wish to die; even the fastidious can.'

[7] Non opus erat suasore illi sed adiutore: servi parere nolebant. Primum detraxit illis metum et indicavit tunc familiam periculum adire cum incertum esset an mors domini voluntaria fuisset; alioqui tam mali exempli esse occidere dominum quam prohibere.

[7] There was no need for him of a persuader but of a helper: the slaves were unwilling to obey. First he took away their fear and indicated that the household then incurred danger when it was uncertain whether the master’s death had been voluntary; otherwise, it was of as bad an example to kill the master as to prevent him.

[8] Deinde ipsum Marcellinum admonuit non esse inhumanum, quemadmodum cena peracta reliquiae circumstantibus dividantur, sic peracta vita aliquid porrigi iis qui totius vitae ministri fuissent. Erat Marcellinus facilis animi et liberalis etiam cum de suo fieret; minutas itaque summulas distribuit flentibus servis et illos ultro consolatus est.

[8] Then he admonished Marcellinus himself that it was not inhuman, just as, once the dinner has been completed, the leftovers are divided to those standing around, so, once life has been completed, something should be proffered to those who had been ministers of the whole life. Marcellinus was of an easy disposition and liberal even when it was to be done at his own expense; and so he distributed minute small sums to the weeping slaves, and of his own accord he consoled them.

[9] Non fuit illi opus ferro, non sanguine: triduo abstinuit et in ipso cubiculo poni tabernaculum iussit. Solium deinde inlatum est, in quo diu iacuit et calda subinde suffusa paulatim defecit, ut aiebat, non sine quadam voluptate, quam adferre solet lenis dissolutio non inexperta nobis, quos aliquando liquit animus.

[9] He had no need of iron, nor of blood: for three days he abstained and ordered a tent to be set up in his very bedchamber. Then a bath was brought in, in which he lay for a long time, and with warm water from time to time poured in he gradually failed, as he said, not without a certain pleasure, which a gentle dissolution is wont to bring, not unexperienced by us, whom at some time the spirit has left.

[10] In fabellam excessi non ingratam tibi; exitum enim amici tui cognosces non difficilem nec miserum. Quamvis enim mortem sibi consciverit, tamen mollissime excessit et vita elapsus est. Sed ne inutilis quidem haec fabella fuerit; saepe enim talia exempla necessitas exigit.

[10] I have digressed into a little fable not unpleasing to you; for you will learn that your friend’s exit was neither difficult nor miserable. Although, indeed, he has consigned death to himself, yet he departed most softly and slipped out of life. But not even will this little fable have been useless; for often necessity exacts such examples.

Saepe debemus mori nec volumus, morimur nec volumus.

Often we ought to die and we do not wish to; we die and we do not wish to.

[11] Nemo tam inperitus est ut nesciat quandoque moriendum; tamen cum prope accessit, tergiversatur, tremit, plorat. Nonne tibi videtur stultissimus omnium qui flevit quod ante annos mille non vixerat? aeque stultus est qui flet quod post annos mille non vivet.

[11] No one is so inexpert as not to know that one must die someday; yet when it has come near, he tergiversates, trembles, weeps. Does he not seem to you the most foolish of all who wept because he had not lived a thousand years earlier? Equally foolish is he who weeps because he will not live a thousand years hence.

Haec paria sunt: non eris nec fuisti; utrumque tempus alienum est.

These are on a par: you will not be, nor have you been; both times are alien to you.

[12] In hoc punctum coniectus es, quod ut extendas, quousque extendes? Quid fles? quid optas?

[12] Into this point you have been cast; and to extend it, how far will you extend it? Why do you weep? what do you desire?

perdis operam.

you waste your effort.

Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando.

Cease to hope to bend the fates of the gods by praying.

Rata et fixa sunt et magna atque aeterna necessitate ducuntur: eo ibis quo omnia eunt. Quid tibi novi est? Ad hanc legem natus es; hoc patri tuo accidit, hoc matri, hoc maioribus, hoc omnibus ante te, hoc omnibus post te. Series invicta et nulla mutabilis ope inligavit ac trahit cuncta.

They are ratified and fixed and are led by a great and eternal necessity: you will go where all things go. What is new to you? To this law you were born; this befell your father, this your mother, this your ancestors, this all before you, this all after you. An invincible series, changeable by no power, has bound and drags all things.

[13] Quantus te populus moriturorum sequetur, quantus comitabitur! Fortior, ut opinor, esses, si multa milia tibi commorerentur; atqui multa milia et hominum et animalium hoc ipso momento quo tu mori dubitas animam variis generibus emittunt. Tu autem non putabas te aliquando ad id perventurum ad quod semper ibas?

[13] How great a people of those about to die will follow you, how great will accompany you! You would be stronger, as I suppose, if many thousands were to die along with you; and yet many thousands both of humans and of animals, at this very moment at which you hesitate to die, are giving up their spirit in various kinds. But did you not think that you would someday arrive at that to which you were always going?

Nullum sine exitu iter est.

There is no journey without an exit.

[14] Exempla nunc magnorum virorum me tibi iudicas relaturum? puerorum referam. Lacon ille memoriae traditur, inpubis adhuc, qui captus clamabat 'non serviam' sua illa Dorica lingua, et verbis fidem inposuit: ut primum iussus est fungi servili et contumelioso ministerio (adferre enim vas obscenum iubebatur), inlisum parieti caput rupit.

[14] Do you judge that I am now going to relate to you examples of great men? I shall relate those of boys. That Laconian, still unbearded, is handed down to memory—captured, he kept shouting 'I will not serve' in that Doric tongue of his, and he put faith to his words: as soon as he was ordered to perform a servile and contumelious service (for he was ordered to bring an obscene vessel), he shattered his head by dashing it against the wall.

[15] Tam prope libertas est: et servit aliquis? Ita non sic perire filium tuum malles quam per inertiam senem fieri? Quid ergo est cur perturberis, si mori fortiter etiam puerile est?

[15] Freedom is so near: and does anyone still serve? So, would you not prefer your son to perish thus rather than to be made an old man through inertia? What, then, is there for you to be perturbed about, if to die bravely is even a boyish thing?

Puta nolle te sequi: duceris. Fac tui iuris quod alieni est. Non sumes pueri spiritum, ut dicas 'non servio'? Infelix, servis hominibus, servis rebus, servis vitae; nam vita, si moriendi virtus abest, servitus est.

Suppose you do not wish to follow: you will be led. Make within your own right what is another’s. Will you not take up a boy’s spirit, so as to say, 'I do not serve'? Unhappy one, you are a slave to men, you are a slave to things, you are a slave to life; for life, if the virtue of dying is absent, is servitude.

[16] Ecquid habes propter quod expectes? voluptates ipsas quae te morantur ac retinent consumpsisti: nulla tibi nova est, nulla non iam odiosa ipsa satietate. Quis sit vini, quis mulsi sapor scis: nihil interest centum per vesicam tuam an mille amphorae transeant: saccus es. Quid sapiat ostreum, quid mullus optime nosti: nihil tibi luxuria tua in futuros annos intactum reservavit.

[16] Have you anything for which to wait? You have consumed the very pleasures which delay and hold you back: none is new to you, none is not now hateful through satiety itself. You know what the savor of wine is, what the savor of mead is: it makes no difference whether a hundred or a thousand amphorae pass through your bladder: you are a sack. What an oyster tastes like, what a mullet tastes like you know very well: your luxury has reserved nothing for you, untouched, for future years.

Atqui haec sunt a quibus invitus divelleris.

And yet these are the things from which you are unwillingly torn.

[17] Quid est aliud quod tibi eripi doleas? Amicos? Scis enim amicus esse?

[17] What else is there that you would grieve to have snatched from you? Friends? For do you know how to be a friend?

Patriam? tanti enim illam putas ut tardius cenes? Solem?

Fatherland? For do you reckon it of such value that you dine later? The sun?

quem, si posses, extingueres: quid enim umquam fecisti luce dignum? Confitere non curiae te, non fori, non ipsius rerum naturae desiderio tardiorem ad moriendum fieri: invitus relinquis macellum, in quo nihil reliquisti.

whom, if you could, you would extinguish: for what have you ever done worthy of the light? Admit that you are not made more tardy to die by desire for the curia, nor for the forum, nor for nature of things herself: unwillingly you leave the meat-market, in which you have left nothing.

[18] Mortem times: at quomodo illam media boletatione contemnis! Vivere vis: scis enim? Mori times: quid porro?

[18] You fear death: yet how you contemn it in the very midst of a boletus‑feast! You wish to live: do you know how? You fear to die: what then?

ista vita non mors est? C. Caesar, cum illum transeuntem per Latinam viam unus ex custodiarum agmine demissa usque in pectus vetere barba rogaret mortem, 'nunc enim' inquit 'vivis?' Hoc istis respondendum est quibus succursura mors est: 'mori times: nunc enim vivis?'

Is not that life death? Gaius Caesar, when, as he was passing along the Latin Way, one from the troop of the guards, with an old beard let down as far as his chest, was asking for death, said, 'For now, are you living?' This is what must be answered to those for whom death will bring succor: 'You fear to die: for now, are you living?'

[19] 'Sed ego' inquit 'vivere volo, qui multa honeste facio; invitus relinquo officia vitae, quibus fideliter et industrie fungor.' Quid? tu nescis unum esse ex vitae officiis et mori? Nullum officium relinquis; non enim certus numerus quem debeas explere finitur.

[19] 'But I,' he says, 'wish to live, I who do many things honorably; unwillingly I leave the offices of life, which I discharge faithfully and industriously.' What? Do you not know that to die, too, is one of life’s offices? You leave no office; for no fixed number which you must fill up is defined.

[20] Nulla vita est non brevis; nam si ad naturam rerum respexeris, etiam Nestoris et Sattiae brevis est, quae inscribi monumento suo iussit annis se nonaginta novem vixisse. Vides aliquem gloriari senectute longa: quis illam ferre potuisset si contigisset centesimum implere? Quomodo fabula, sic vita: non quam diu, sed quam bene acta sit, refert.

[20] There is no life that is not brief; for if you have regard to the nature of things, even the life of Nestor and of Sattia is brief, she who ordered to be inscribed upon her monument that she had lived ninety-nine years. You see someone boast of a long old age: who could have borne it if it had befallen to complete the hundredth? As a play, so life: it is not how long, but how well it has been acted, that matters.

Nihil ad rem pertinet quo loco desinas. Quocumque voles desine: tantum bonam clausulam inpone. Vale.

It does not pertain to the matter where you finish. Finish wherever you wish: only put on a good closing clause. Farewell.

LXXVIII. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

78. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Vexari te destillationibus crebris ac febriculis, quae longas destillationes et in consuetudinem adductas sequuntur, eo molestius mihi est quia expertus sum hoc genus valetudinis, quod inter initia contempsi -- poterat adhuc adulescentia iniurias ferre et se adversus morbos contumaciter gerere -- deinde succubui et eo perductus sum ut ipse destillarem, ad summam maciem deductus.

[1] That you are harassed by frequent catarrhs and slight fevers, which follow long-continued and habituated catarrhs, is the more troublesome to me because I have experienced this kind of ill-health, which at the beginning I made light of -- adolescence could still bear injuries and carry itself contumaciously against diseases -- then I succumbed and was brought to such a pass that I myself was dripping with catarrh, reduced to utmost leanness.

[2] Saepe impetum cepi abrumpendae vitae: patris me indulgentissimi senectus retinuit. Cogitavi enim non quam fortiter ego mori possem, sed quam ille fortiter desiderare non posset. Itaque imperavi mihi ut viverem; aliquando enim et vivere fortiter facere est.

[2] I often conceived the impulse to break off life: the old age of my most indulgent father held me back. For I considered not how bravely I could die, but how he could not bravely endure to be without me. And so I commanded myself to live; for sometimes even to live is to do bravely.

[3] Quae mihi tunc fuerint solacio dicam, si prius hoc dixero, haec ipsa quibus adquiescebam medicinae vim habuisse; in remedium cedunt honesta solacia, et quidquid animum erexit etiam corpori prodest. Studia mihi nostra saluti fuerunt; philosophiae acceptum fero quod surrexi, quod convalui; illi vitam debeo et nihil illi minus debeo.

[3] I will say what was then a solace to me, if I first say this: that these very things in which I found rest had had the force of medicine; honorable solaces become a remedy, and whatever has raised the spirit also benefits the body. My studies were my salvation; I credit to philosophy that I rose again, that I recovered; to her I owe my life, and I owe her nothing less.

[4] Multum autem mihi contulerunt ad bonam valetudinem amici, quorum adhortationibus, vigiliis, sermonibus adlevabar. Nihil aeque, Lucili, virorum optime, aegrum reficit atque adiuvat quam amicorum adfectus, nihil aeque expectationem mortis ac metum subripit: non iudicabam me, cum illos superstites relinquerem, mori. Putabam, inquam, me victurum non cum illis, sed per illos; non effundere mihi spiritum videbar, sed tradere.

[4] Moreover, much was contributed to my good health also by my friends, by whose exhortations, vigils, conversations I was alleviated. Nothing, Lucilius, best of men, so refreshes and assists the sick as the affection of friends; nothing so steals away the expectation of death and its fear: I did not judge that I was dying when I left them surviving. I thought, I say, that I would live not with them but through them; I did not seem to be pouring out my spirit, but to be handing it over.

Haec mihi dederunt voluntatem adiuvandi me et patiendi omne tormentum; alioqui miserrimum est, cum animum moriendi proieceris, non habere vivendi.

These gave me the will to aid myself and to suffer every torment; otherwise it is most wretched, when you have cast your mind to dying, not to have a will for living.

[5] Ad haec ergo remedia te confer. Medicus tibi quantum ambules, quantum exercearis monstrabit; ne indulgeas otio, ad quod vergit iners valetudo; ut legas clarius et spiritum, cuius iter ac receptaculum laborat, exerceas; ut naviges et viscera molli iactatione concutias; quibus cibis utaris, vinum quando virium causa advoces, quando intermittas ne inritet et exasperet tussim. Ego tibi illud praecipio quod non tantum huius morbi sed totius vitae remedium est: contemne mortem.

[5] To these remedies, then, betake yourself. A physician will show you how much you should walk, how much you should exercise; do not indulge idleness, toward which inert health inclines; that you read more clearly and exercise your breath, whose passage and receptacle are in distress; that you sail and shake the inner organs with gentle tossing; what foods you should use, when you should call in wine for the sake of strength, when you should intermit it lest it irritate and exasperate the cough. I prescribe this to you, which is a remedy not only for this malady but for the whole of life: contemn death.

Nihil triste est cum huius metum effugimus.

Nothing is sad when we have escaped the fear of this.

[6] Tria haec in omni morbo gravia sunt: metus mortis, dolor corporis, intermissio voluptatum. De morte satis dictum est: hoc unum dicam, non morbi hunc esse sed naturae metum. Multorum mortem distulit morbus et saluti illis fuit videri perire.

[6] These three things are grave in every illness: fear of death, pain of the body, intermission of pleasures. About death enough has been said: this one thing I will say, that this fear belongs not to the illness but to nature. Illness has deferred the death of many, and it has been to their salvation to seem to be perishing.

Morieris, non quia aegrotas, sed quia vivis. Ista te res et sanatum manet; cum convalueris, non mortem sed valetudinem effugeris.

You will die, not because you are sick, but because you live. That condition awaits you even when healed; when you have recovered, you will have escaped not death but illness.

[7] Ad illud nunc proprium incommodum revertamur: magnos cruciatus habet morbus, sed hos tolerabiles intervalla faciunt. Nam summi doloris intentio invenit finem; nemo potest valde dolere et diu; sic nos amantissima nostri natura disposuit ut dolorem aut tolerabilem aut brevem faceret.

[7] Let us now return to that particular inconvenience: disease has great excruciations, but intervals make these tolerable. For the intensity of the highest pain finds an end; no one can suffer greatly and for a long time; thus nature, most loving of us, has so disposed us that she made pain either tolerable or brief.

[8] Maximi dolores consistunt in macerrimis corporis partibus: nervi articulique et quidquid aliud exile est acerrime saevit cum in arto vitia concepit. Sed cito hae partes obstupescunt et ipso dolore sensum doloris amittunt, sive quia spiritus naturali prohibitus cursu et mutatus in peius vim suam qua viget admonetque nos perdit, sive quia corruptus umor, cum desiit habere quo confluat, ipse se elidit et iis quae nimis implevit excutit sensum.

[8] The greatest pains take their stand in the thinnest parts of the body: the nerves and the joints, and whatever else is slender, rage most sharply when, in a confined place, they have conceived disorders. But these parts quickly grow numb and, by the very pain, lose the sense of pain, either because the spirit, hindered in its natural course and changed for the worse, loses the force by which it has vigor and admonishes us, or because the corrupted humor, when it has ceased to have a place into which it may flow together, dashes itself to pieces and, in those parts which it has overfilled too much, shakes off sensation.

[9] Sic podagra et cheragra et omnis vertebrarum dolor nervorumque interquiescit cum illa quae torquebat hebetavit; omnium istorum prima verminatio vexat, impetus mora extinguitur et finis dolendi est optorpuisse. Dentium, oculorum, aurium dolor ob hoc ipsum acutissimus est quod inter angusta corporis nascitur, non minus, mehercule, quam capitis ipsius; sed si incitatior est, in alienationem soporemque convertitur.

[9] Thus podagra and chiragra and every pain of the vertebrae and of the nerves comes to rest in between when that which was tormenting has dulled; of all these the first vermination vexes, the impetus is extinguished by delay, and the end of suffering pain is to have grown numb. The pain of the teeth, eyes, and ears is for this very reason most acute, because it arises among the narrow places of the body, no less, by Hercules, than that of the head itself; but if it is more incited, it is converted into alienation and sleep.

[10] Hoc itaque solacium vasti doloris est, quod necesse est desinas illum sentire si nimis senseris. Illud autem est quod inperitos in vexatione corporis male habet: non adsueverunt animo esse contenti; multum illis cum corpore fuit. Ideo vir magnus ac prudens animum diducit a corpore et multum cum meliore ac divina parte versatur, cum hac querula et fragili quantum necesse est.

[10] This, therefore, is the solace of vast pain: that it is necessary that you cease to feel it if you have felt it too much. But this is what holds the inexperienced ill in the vexation of the body: they have not been accustomed to be content with the mind; they have had much to do with the body. Therefore the great and prudent man draws his mind away from the body and is much conversant with the better and divine part, with this querulous and fragile one only as much as is necessary.

[11] 'Sed molestum est' inquit 'carere adsuetis voluptatibus, abstinere cibo, sitire, esurire.' Haec prima abstinentia gravia sunt, deinde cupiditas relanguescit ipsis per [se] quae cupimus fatigatis ac deficientibus; inde morosus est stomachus, inde quibus fuit aviditas cibi odium est. Desideria ipsa moriuntur; non est autem acerbum carere eo quod cupere desieris.

[11] 'But it is troublesome,' he says, 'to be without accustomed pleasures, to abstain from food, to thirst, to hunger.' These first deprivations are grievous; then cupidity grows languid, as the very things which we desire, wearied and failing per [se], do so; hence the stomach is fastidious; hence, for those in whom there was an avidity for food, there is a loathing of it. The desires themselves die; nor is it bitter to be without that which you have ceased to desire.

[12] Adice quod nullus non intermittitur dolor aut certe remittitur. Adice quod licet cavere venturum et obsistere inminenti remediis; nullus enim non signa praemittit, utique qui ex solito revertitur. Tolerabilis est morbi patientia, si contempseris id quod extremum minatur.

[12] Add that no pain fails to be intermitted, or at least to be remitted. Add that it is permitted to beware what is going to come and to resist what is imminent by remedies; for none fails to send forth signs beforehand, especially that which returns from habit. Patience in disease is tolerable, if you have contemned that which threatens as the ultimate.

[13] Noli mala tua facere tibi ipse graviora et te querelis onerare: levis est dolor si nihil illi opinio adiecerit. Contra si exhortari te coeperis ac dicere 'nihil est aut certe exiguum est; duremus; iam desinet', levem illum, dum putas, facies. Omnia ex opinione suspensa sunt; non ambitio tantum ad illam respicit et luxuria et avaritia: ad opinionem dolemus.

[13] Do not make your evils heavier for yourself and burden yourself with complaints: pain is light if opinion has added nothing to it. On the contrary, if you begin to exhort yourself and say 'it is nothing or at any rate it is trifling; let us endure; now it will cease', you will make it light, so long as you think so. All things are suspended on opinion; not ambition only looks to it, and luxury and avarice: according to opinion we suffer pain.

[14] Tam miser est quisque quam credidit. Detrahendas praeteritorum dolorum conquestiones puto et illa verba: 'nulli umquam fuit peius. Quos cruciatus, quanta mala pertuli!

[14] Each person is as miserable as he has believed. I think the complaints of past pains are to be removed, and those words: 'No one ever had it worse. What torments, what great evils I have borne!

Nemo me surrecturum putavit. Quotiens deploratus sum a meis, quotiens a medicis relictus! In eculeum inpositi non sic distrahuntur.' Etiam si sunt vera ista, transierunt: quid iuvat praeteritos dolores retractare et miserum esse quia fueris?

No one thought I would rise. How often was I bewailed by my own, how often abandoned by the physicians! Those set upon the rack are not thus torn apart.' Even if those things are true, they have passed: what good is it to go back over past pains and to be miserable because you once were?

Quid quod nemo non multum malis suis adicit et sibi ipse mentitur? Deinde quod acerbum fuit ferre, tulisse iucundum est: naturale est mali sui fine gaudere. Circumcidenda ergo duo sunt, et futuri timor et veteris incommodi memoria: hoc ad me iam non pertinet, illud nondum.

What of the fact that everyone adds much to his own ills and lies to himself? Then, what was bitter to bear is pleasant to have borne: it is natural to rejoice at the end of one’s own ill. Therefore two things must be pruned back, both the fear of the future and the memory of the old inconvenience: this now no longer pertains to me; that not yet.

[15] In ipsis positus difficultatibus dicat,

[15] Positioned in the very difficulties, let him say,

forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit.

perhaps even these things it will one day be pleasing to remember.

Toto contra ille pugnet animo; vincetur si cesserit, vincet si se contra dolorem suum intenderit: nunc hoc plerique faciunt, adtrahunt in se ruinam cui obstandum est. Istud quod premit, quod inpendet, quod urguet, si subducere te coeperis, sequetur et gravius incumbet; si contra steteris et obniti volueris, repelletur.

Let him fight back with his whole spirit; he will be conquered if he yields, he will conquer if he braces himself against his own dolor: now this is what most do, they draw upon themselves the ruin which ought to be withstood. That which presses, which impends, which urges, if you begin to withdraw yourself, will follow and will lean upon you more heavily; if you stand against it and are willing to strive, it will be repelled.

[16] Athletae quantum plagarum ore, quantum toto corpore excipiunt! ferunt tamen omne tormentum gloriae cupiditate nec tantum quia pugnant ista patiuntur, sed ut pugnent: exercitatio ipsa tormentum est. Nos quoque evincamus omnia, quorum praemium non corona nec palma est nec tubicen praedicationi nominis nostri silentium faciens, sed virtus et firmitas animi et pax in ceterum parta, si semel in aliquo certamine debellata fortuna est.

[16] How many blows do athletes receive on the face, how many on the whole body! Yet they bear every torment out of a desire for glory, and they suffer these things not only because they fight, but in order that they may fight: training itself is a torment. Let us also vanquish all things, whose prize is not a crown nor a palm, nor a trumpeter making silence for the proclamation of our name, but virtue and firmness of mind, and a peace secured henceforth, if once in some contest Fortune has been thoroughly subdued.

'Dolorem gravem sentio.'

'I feel grave pain.'

[17] Quid ergo? non sentis si illum muliebriter tuleris? Quemadmodum perniciosior est hostis fugientibus, sic omne fortuitum incommodum magis instat cedenti et averso.

[17] What then? Do you not feel it, if you bear it in a womanish manner? Just as a hostile foe is more pernicious to those who flee, so every fortuitous inconvenience presses the more upon one who yields and turns away.

'Sed grave est.' Quid? nos ad hoc fortes sumus, ut levia portemus? Utrum vis longum esse morbum an concitatum et brevem?

'But it is grave.' What? Are we brave for this, that we may bear light things? Do you wish the disease to be long, or impetuous and brief?

Si longus est, habet intercapedinem, dat refectioni locum, multum temporis donat, necesse est, ut exsurgat, et desinat: brevis morbus ac praeceps alterutrum faciet, aut extinguetur aut extinguet. Quid autem interest, non sit an non sim? in utroque finis dolendi est.

If it is long, it has an interval, gives room for refection, grants much time, it is necessary that it rise and cease: a short and headlong disease will do one or the other, either it will be extinguished or it will extinguish. But what does it matter, that it not be or that I not be? in both cases there is an end of suffering.

[18] Illud quoque proderit, ad alias cogitationes avertere animum et a dolore discedere. Cogita quid honeste, quid fortiter feceris; bonas partes tecum ipse tracta; memoriam in ea quae maxime miratus es sparge; tunc tibi fortissimus quisque et victor doloris occurrat: ille qui dum varices exsecandas praeberet legere librum perseveravit, ille qui non desiit ridere cum hoc ipsum irati tortores omnia instrumenta crudelitatis suae experirentur. Non vincetur dolor ratione, qui victus est risu?

[18] This too will be profitable: to avert the mind to other thoughts and to depart from pain. Consider what you have done honorably, what bravely; with yourself handle your good parts; scatter your memory over those things which you have most admired; then let every bravest man and conqueror of pain occur to you: that one who, while he offered his varicose veins to be excised, persisted in reading a book; that one who did not cease to laugh when the enraged torturers were trying out upon him all the instruments of their cruelty. Will pain not be conquered by reason, which has been conquered by laughter?

[19] Quidquid vis nunc licet dicas, destillationes et vim continuae tussis egerentem viscerum partes et febrem praecordia ipsa torrentem et sitim et artus in diversum articulis exeuntibus tortos: plus est flamma et eculeus et lamina et vulneribus ipsis intumescentibus quod illa renovaret et altius urgueret inpressum. Inter haec tamen aliquis non gemuit. Parum est: non rogavit.

[19] Say whatever you please now—distillations and the force of a continuous cough ejecting parts of the viscera, and a fever scorching the very precordia, and thirst, and limbs twisted different ways with the articulations coming out: something more is flame and the rack and the plate, and, with the very wounds intumescing, the fact that those would renew and press more deeply what had been impressed. Amid these things, however, someone did not groan. Too little: he did not beg.

Parum est: non respondit. Parum est: risit et quidem ex animo. Vis tu post hoc dolorem deridere?

Too little: he did not respond. Too little: he laughed, and indeed from the heart. Do you after this wish to deride pain?

[20] 'Sed nihil' inquit 'agere sinit morbus, qui me omnibus abduxit officiis.' Corpus tuum valetudo tenet, non et animum. Itaque cursoris moratur pedes, sutoris aut fabri manus inpedit: si animus tibi esse in usu solet, suadebis docebis, audies disces, quaeres recordaberis. Quid porro?

[20] 'But "nothing,"' he says, 'does the illness allow to be done, which has withdrawn me from all duties.' Your body illness holds, not your mind as well. And so it delays the runner’s feet, it hampers the hands of the cobbler or the smith: if your mind is wont to be in use to you, you will advise, you will teach, you will listen, you will learn, you will inquire, you will remember. What further?

nihil agere te credis si temperans aeger sis? ostendes morbum posse superari vel certe sustineri.

Do you believe you are doing nothing if you should be a temperate invalid? You will show that disease can be overcome, or at least sustained.

[21] Est, mihi crede, virtuti etiam in lectulo locus. Non tantum arma et acies dant argumenta alacris animi indomitique terroribus: et in vestimentis vir fortis apparet. Habes quod agas: bene luctare cum morbo.

[21] There is, believe me, a place for virtue even on the sickbed. Not only arms and battle-lines give arguments of a lively spirit and one indomitable by terrors: even in his garments the brave man appears. You have something to do: wrestle well with the disease.

Si nihil te coegerit, si nihil exoraverit, insigne prodis exemplum. O quam magna erat gloriae materia, si spectaremur aegri! ipse te specta, ipse te lauda.

If nothing has coerced you, if nothing has won you over by entreaty, you produce a signal example. O how great was the material for glory, if we were beheld as sick! You yourself look upon yourself, you yourself praise yourself.

[22] Praeterea duo genera sunt voluptatum. Corporales morbus inhibet, non tamen tollit; immo, si verum aestimes, incitat. Magis iuvat bibere sitientem, gratior est esurienti cibus; quidquid ex abstinentia contingit avidius excipitur.

[22] Moreover, there are two kinds of pleasures. Disease inhibits the corporal ones, yet does not take them away; indeed, if you estimate the truth, it incites them. It pleases the thirsty more to drink, food is more gratifying to the hungry; whatever comes from abstinence is received more avidly.

Illas vero animi voluptates, quae maiores certioresque sunt, nemo medicus aegro negat. Has quisquis sequitur et bene intellegit omnia sensuum blandimenta contemnit.

Those pleasures of the mind, which are greater and more certain, no physician denies to the sick. Whoever follows these and understands them well contemns all the blandishments of the senses.

[23] 'O infelicem aegrum!' Quare? quia non vino nivem diluit? quia non rigorem potionis suae, quam capaci scypho miscuit, renovat fracta insuper glacie?

[23] 'O unhappy invalid!' Why? because he does not dissolve snow with wine? because he does not renew the chill of his potion, which he has mixed in a capacious scyphus, with ice, broken moreover on top?

quia non ostrea illi Lucrina in ipsa mensa aperiuntur? quia non circa cenationem eius tumultus cocorum est ipsos cum opsoniis focos transferentium? Hoc enim iam luxuria commenta est: ne quis intepescat cibus, ne quid palato iam calloso parum ferveat, cenam culina prosequitur.

because Lucrine oysters are not opened for him on the very table? because around his dining-room there is a tumult of cooks transferring the very hearths along with the side-dishes? For luxury has by now devised this: lest any food grow lukewarm, lest anything be not sufficiently seething for a palate now calloused, the kitchen attends the dinner.

[24] 'O infelicem aegrum!' Edet quantum concoquat; non iacebit in conspectu aper ut vilis caro a mensa relegatus, nec in repositorio eius pectora avium (totas enim videre fastidium est) congesta ponentur. Quid tibi mali factum est? cenabis tamquam aeger, immo aliquando tamquam sanus.

[24] 'O unhappy sick man!' He will eat as much as he can concoct; a boar will not lie in sight, relegated from the table as cheap flesh, nor will the breasts of birds be heaped up on his sideboard (for to see them whole is fastidiousness). What harm has been done to you? You will dine like a sick man, nay rather, at times like a healthy man.

[25] Sed omnia ista facile perferemus, sorbitionem, aquam calidam, et quidquid aliud intolerabile videtur delicatis et luxu fluentibus magisque animo quam corpore morbidis: tantum mortem desinamus horrere. Desinemus autem, si fines bonorum ac malorum cognoverimus; ita demum nec vita taedio erit nec mors timori.

[25] But all those things we shall easily endure—broth, hot water, and whatever else seems intolerable to the delicate and to those flowing with luxury and morbid more in mind than in body: only let us cease to shudder at death. We shall cease, however, if we come to know the limits of goods and evils; then at last neither will life be a weariness nor death a terror.

[26] Vitam enim occupare satietas sui non potest tot res varias, magnas, divinas percensentem: in odium illam sui adducere solet iners otium. Rerum naturam peragranti numquam in fastidium veritas veniet: falsa satiabunt.

[26] For satiety with oneself cannot preoccupy life as it reckons through so many various, great, divine things; inert leisure is wont to bring it into hatred of itself. To one traversing the nature of things, truth will never come into disgust; falsehoods will satiate.

[27] Rursus si mors accedit et vocat, licet inmatura sit, licet mediam praecidat aetatem, perceptus longissimae fructus est. Cognita est illi ex magna parte natura; scit tempore honesta non crescere: iis necesse est videri omnem vitam brevem qui illam voluptatibus vanis et ideo infinitis metiuntur.

[27] Again, if death approaches and calls, though it be immature, though it cut off midlife, the fruit of a very long life has been reaped. Nature has been known to him in great part; he knows that honorable things do not grow with time: it must needs be that the whole of life seem brief to those who measure it by vain, and therefore infinite, pleasures.

[28] His te cogitationibus recrea et interim epistulis nostris vaca. Veniet aliquando tempus quod nos iterum iungat ac misceat; quantulumlibet sit illud, longum faciet scientia utendi. Nam, ut Posidonius ait, 'unus dies hominum eruditorum plus patet quam inperitis longissima aetas'.

[28] Refresh yourself with these reflections and meanwhile have leisure for our letters. Some time will come which will join and commingle us again; however small that may be, the knowledge of how to use it will make it long. For, as Posidonius says, 'one day of erudite men extends further than the longest lifetime to the inexpert'.

[29] Interim hoc tene, hoc morde: adversis non succumbere, laetis non credere, omnem fortunae licentiam in oculis habere, tamquam quidquid potest facere factura sit. Quidquid expectatum est diu, levius accedit. Vale.

[29] Meanwhile hold this, bite this: not to succumb to adversities, not to trust in joys, to have all the license of Fortune before your eyes, as though whatever she can do she is about to do. Whatever has been long expected comes more lightly. Farewell.

LXXIX. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

79. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETINGS

[1] Expecto epistulas tuas quibus mihi indices circuitus Siciliae totius quid tibi novi ostenderit, et omnia de ipsa Charybdi certiora. Nam Scyllam saxum esse et quidem non terribile navigantibus optime scio: Charybdis an respondeat fabulis perscribi mihi desidero et, si forte observaveris (dignum est autem quod observes), fac nos certiores utrum uno tantum vento agatur in vertices an omnis tempestas aeque mare illud contorqueat, et an verum sit quidquid illo freti turbine abreptum est per multa milia trahi conditum et circa Tauromenitanum litus emergere.

[1] I await your epistles in which you indicate to me what the circuits of all Sicily have shown you that is new, and more certain particulars about Charybdis herself. For I know full well that Scylla is a rock, and indeed not terrible to those sailing: whether Charybdis answers to the fables I desire to have written out for me, and, if perchance you have observed (it is, moreover, worthy that you observe), make us more certain whether it is driven into vortices by only a single wind or whether every tempest equally contorts that sea, and whether it is true that whatever has been snatched away by that whirl of the strait is carried for many miles, sunk and concealed, and reemerges around the Tauromenitan shore.

[2] Si haec mihi perscripseris, tunc tibi audebo mandare ut in honorem meum Aetnam quoque ascendas, quam consumi et sensim subsidere ex hoc colligunt quidam, quod aliquanto longius navigantibus solebat ostendi. Potest hoc accidere non quia montis altitudo descendit, sed quia ignis evanuit et minus vehemens ac largus effertur, ob eandem causam fumo quoque per diem segniore. Neutrum autem incredibile est, nec montem qui devoretur cotidie minui, nec manere eundem, quia non ipsum exest sed in aliqua inferna valle conceptus exaestuat et aliis pascitur, in ipso monte non alimentum habet sed viam.

[2] If you write these things out to me, then I will dare to bid you, in my honor, to climb Etna as well, which some gather to be consumed and to be sinking little by little from this indication: that it used to be shown to sailors from a somewhat farther distance. This can happen not because the mountain’s altitude has gone down, but because the fire has waned and is carried forth less vehemently and copiously—on the same account the smoke too by day is more sluggish. Neither alternative, however, is unbelievable, neither that a mountain which is devoured daily is diminished, nor that it remains the same, because it is not the mountain itself that the eats away, but, conceived in some infernal valley, it seethes over and feeds on other things; in the mountain itself it has not nourishment but a way.

[3] In Lycia regio notissima est (Hephaestion incolae vocant), foratum pluribus locis solum, quod sine ullo nascentium damno ignis innoxius circumit. Laeta itaque regio est et herbida, nihil flammis adurentibus sed tantum vi remissa ac languida refulgentibus.

[3] In Lycia there is a most well-known region (the inhabitants call it Hephaestion), the soil bored through in several places, which an innoxious fire goes around without any harm to things that are growing. Therefore the region is luxuriant and grassy, the flames scorching nothing, but only gleaming with their force relaxed and languid.

[4] Sed reservemus ista, tunc quaesituri cum tu mihi scripseris quantum ab ipso ore montis nives absint, quas ne aestas quidem solvit; adeo tutae sunt ab igne vicino. Non est autem quod istam curam inputes mihi; morbo enim tuo daturus eras, etiam si nemo mandaret.

[4] But let us reserve those matters, then to inquire when you will have written to me how far from the very mouth of the mountain the snows are distant, which not even summer dissolves; so secure are they from the neighboring fire. Nor is there any reason for you to impute this concern to me; for to your own disease you were going to devote it, even if no one commanded.

[5] Quid tibi do ne Aetnam describas in tuo carmine, ne hunc sollemnem omnibus poetis locum adtingas? Quem quominus Ovidius tractaret, nihil obstitit quod iam Vergilius impleverat; ne Severum quidem Cornelium uterque deterruit. Omnibus praeterea feliciter hic locus se dedit, et qui praecesserant non praeripuisse mihi videntur quae dici poterant, sed aperuisse.

[5] What shall I give you so that you may not describe Etna in your poem, so that you may not touch this place solemn to all poets? The fact that Virgil had already filled it did not hinder Ovid from treating it; nor did both of them deter Cornelius Severus either. Moreover, to all, this place has happily yielded itself, and those who had gone before do not seem to me to have preempted what could be said, but to have opened it up.

[6] [Sed] Multum interest utrum ad consumptam materiam an ad subactam accedas: crescit in dies, et inventuris inventa non obstant. Praeterea condicio optima est ultimi: parata verba invenit, quae aliter instructa novam faciem habent. Nec illis manus inicit tamquam alienis; sunt enim publica.

[6] [But] It makes much difference whether you approach material that has been consumed or that has been wrought: it grows by the day, and the things discovered do not stand in the way of those who are going to discover. Moreover, the condition of the last is the best: he finds words prepared, which, arranged otherwise, have a new face. Nor does he lay hands on them as though on another’s; for they are public.

[Iurisconsulti negant quicquam publicum usu capi.]

[Jurisconsults deny that anything public can be acquired by usucapion.]

[7] Aut ego te non novi aut Aetna tibi salivam movet; iam cupis grande aliquid et par prioribus scribere. Plus enim sperare modestia tibi tua non permittit, quae tanta in te est ut videaris mihi retracturus ingenii tui vires, si vincendi periculum sit: tanta tibi priorum reverentia est.

[7] Either I do not know you, or Etna is stirring your saliva; already you are eager to write something grand and equal to your former works. For your modesty does not permit you to hope for more, which is so great in you that you seem to me about to retract the forces of your genius, if there should be a danger of conquering: so great is your reverence for the former.

[8] Inter cetera hoc habet boni sapientia: nemo ab altero potest vinci nisi dum ascenditur. Cum ad summum perveneris, paria sunt; non est incremento locus, statur. Numquid sol magnitudini suae adicit?

[8] Among other things, wisdom has this good: no one can be conquered by another except during the ascent. When you have reached the summit, things are equal; there is no place for increment; one stands fast. Does the sun add to its own magnitude?

numquid ultra quam solet luna procedit? Maria non crescunt; mundus eundem habitum ac modum servat.

Does the moon proceed beyond what it is wont to do? The seas do not increase; the world preserves the same habit and mode.

[9] Extollere se quae iustam magnitudinem implevere non possunt: quicumque fuerint sapientes, pares erunt et aequales. Habebit unusquisque ex iis proprias dotes: alius erit affabilior, alius expeditior, alius promptior in eloquendo, alius facundior: illud de quo agitur, quod beatum facit, aequalest in omnibus.

[9] Those that have fulfilled their just magnitude cannot raise themselves higher: whoever shall have been wise will be peers and equals. Each one of them will have his own endowments: one will be more affable, another more expeditious, another readier in eloquence, another more eloquent; that matter which is in question, that which makes one blessed, is equal in all.

[10] An Aetna tua possit sublabi et in se ruere, an hoc excelsum cacumen et conspicuum per vasti maris spatia detrahat adsidua vis ignium, nescio: virtutem non flamma, non ruina inferius adducet; haec una maiestas deprimi nescit. Nec proferri ultra nec referri potest; sic huius, ut caelestium, stata magnitudo est. Ad hanc nos conemur educere.

[10] Whether your Etna can slip and collapse in upon itself, or whether the continual force of the fires drags down this lofty summit, conspicuous across the expanses of the vast sea, I do not know: flame will not, nor ruin, bring virtue lower; this singular majesty does not know how to be depressed. It can be neither carried forth beyond nor brought back; thus its magnitude, like that of the celestials, is set. To this let us strive to lead ourselves up.

[11] Iam multum operis effecti est; immo, si verum fateri volo, non multum. Nec enim bonitas est pessimis esse meliorem: quis oculis glorietur qui suspicetur diem? Cui sol per caliginem splendet, licet contentus interim sit effugisse tenebras, adhuc non fruitur bono lucis.

[11] Already much of the work has been accomplished; nay rather, if I wish to confess the truth, not much. For it is not goodness to be better than the worst: who would glory in his eyes who merely suspects the day? For whom the sun shines through murk, although he is meanwhile content to have escaped the darkness, he does not yet enjoy the good of the light.

[12] Tunc animus noster habebit quod gratuletur sibi cum emissus his tenebris in quibus volutatur non tenui visu clara prospexerit, sed totum diem admiserit et redditus caelo suo fuerit, cum receperit locum quem occupavit sorte nascendi. Sursum illum vocant initia sua; erit autem illic etiam antequam hac custodia exsolvatur, cum vitia disiecerit purusque ac levis in cogitationes divinas emicuerit.

[12] Then our spirit will have something to congratulate itself for, when, emitted from these darknesses in which it wallows, it has looked out upon bright things not with a tenuous sight, but has admitted the whole day, and has been restored to its own heaven, when it has recovered the place which it occupied by the lot of being born. Upward its beginnings call it; moreover, it will be there even before it is released from this custody, when it has cast aside vices and, pure and light, has flashed forth into divine cogitations.

[13] Hoc nos agere, Lucili carissime, in hoc ire impetu toto, licet pauci sciant, licet nemo, iuvat. Gloria umbra virtutis est: etiam invitam comitabitur. Sed quemadmodum aliquando umbra antecedit, aliquando sequitur vel a tergo est, ita gloria aliquando ante nos est visendamque se praebet, aliquando in averso est maiorque quo serior, ubi invidia secessit.

[13] This we are doing, dearest Lucilius, into this we are going with our whole impetus; though few know it—though no one—it delights. Glory is the shadow of virtue: even unwilling, it will accompany her. But just as sometimes the shadow goes before, sometimes it follows or is behind, so glory is sometimes before us and offers itself to be seen; sometimes it is in the rear, and the later it is, the greater it is, when envy has withdrawn.

[14] Quamdiu videbatur furere Democritus! Vix recepit Socraten fama. Quamdiu Catonem civitas ignoravit!

[14] How long did Democritus seem to be raving! Fame scarcely received Socrates. How long did the state ignore Cato!

respuit nec intellexit nisi cum perdidit. Rutili innocentia ac virtus lateret, nisi accepisset iniuriam: dum violatur, effulsit. Numquid non sorti suae gratias egit et exilium suum complexus est?

it spurned and did not understand him until it had lost him. Rutilius’s innocence and virtue would have lain hidden, had he not suffered injustice: while he was being wronged, he shone forth. Did he not give thanks for his lot and embrace his exile?

De his loquor quos inlustravit fortuna dum vexat: quam multorum profectus in notitiam evasere post ipsos! quam multos fama non excepit sed eruit!

I speak of those whom Fortune illuminated while she vexed them: how many men’s advancements emerged into notice posthumously! how many did Fame not receive, but unearthed!

[15] Vides Epicurum quantopere non tantum eruditiores sed haec quoque inperitorum turba miretur: hic ignotus ipsis Athenis fuit, circa quas delituerat. Multis itaque iam annis Metrodoro suo superstes in quadam epistula, cum amicitiam suam et Metrodori grata commemoratione cecinisset, hoc novissime adiecit, nihil sibi et Metrodoro inter bona tanta nocuisse quod ipsos illa nobilis Graecia non ignotos solum habuisset sed paene inauditos.

[15] You see how greatly not only the more erudite but also this crowd of the unlearned admires Epicurus: this man was unknown in Athens itself, around which he had lain concealed. And so, many years later, as the survivor of his Metrodorus, in a certain letter, after he had celebrated his friendship and Metrodorus with a grateful commemoration, he added this at the last: that, amid such great goods, it had harmed neither himself nor Metrodorus that that noble Greece had held them not only as unknown but almost unheard-of.

[16] Numquid ergo non postea quam esse desierat inventus est? numquid non opinio eius enituit? Hoc Metrodorus quoque in quadam epistula confitetur, se et Epicurum non satis enotuisse; sed post se et Epicurum magnum paratumque nomen habituros qui voluissent per eadem ire vestigia.

[16] So then, was he not found after he had ceased to be? was not his repute shone forth? This Metrodorus also confesses in a certain epistle, that he and Epicurus had not been sufficiently made known; but that after them, those who should wish to go through the same vestiges would have a great and prepared name.

[17] Nulla virtus latet, et latuisse non ipsius est damnum: veniet qui conditam et saeculi sui malignitate conpressam dies publicet. Paucis natus est qui populum aetatis suae cogitat. Multa annorum milia, multa populorum supervenient: ad illa respice.

[17] No virtue lies hidden, and to have lain hidden is not its loss: there will come a day which will publish what was stored away and compressed by the malignity of its age. He is born for the few who has in mind the people of his own age. Many thousands of years, many peoples will supervene: look to those.

Etiam si omnibus tecum viventibus silentium livor indixerit, venient qui sine offensa, sine gratia iudicent. Si quod est pretium virtutis ex fama, nec hoc interit. Ad nos quidem nihil pertinebit posterorum sermo; tamen etiam non sentientes colet ac frequentabit.

Even if envy has imposed silence upon all those living with you, there will come those who will judge without offense, without favor. If there is any price of virtue from fame, not even this perishes. To us indeed the discourse of posterity will pertain nothing; nevertheless, even we not perceiving it, it will cherish and frequent us.

[18] Nulli non virtus et vivo et mortuo rettulit gratiam, si modo illam bona secutus est fide, si se non exornavit et pinxit, sed idem fuit sive ex denuntiato videbatur sive inparatus ac subito. Nihil simulatio proficit; paucis inponit leviter extrinsecus inducta facies: veritas in omnem partem sui eadem est. Quae decipiunt nihil habent solidi.

[18] Virtue has returned favor to everyone, both living and dead, provided only that one has followed it with good faith, if he did not deck and paint himself out, but was the same whether he appeared by announcement or unprepared and suddenly. Simulation profits nothing; a face lightly overlaid from without imposes on few: truth is the same in every part of itself. The things that deceive have nothing solid.

Tenue est mendacium: perlucet si diligenter inspexeris. Vale.

A lie is thin: it shines through if you inspect it carefully. Farewell.

LXXX. SENECA LVCILIO SVO SALVTEM

80. SENECA TO HIS LUCILIUS, GREETING

[1] Hodierno die non tantum meo beneficio mihi vaco sed spectaculi, quod omnes molestos ad sphaeromachian avocavit. Nemo inrumpet, nemo cogitationem meam inpediet, quae hac ipsa fiducia procedit audacius. Non crepabit subinde ostium, non adlevabitur velum: licebit tuto vadere, quod magis necessarium est per se eunti et suam sequenti viam.

[1] Today I have leisure for myself not only by my own doing but by the spectacle, which has called off all the troublesome people to the sphaeromachy. No one will burst in, no one will impede my thinking, which, with this very confidence, proceeds more boldly. The door will not be creaking every little while, the curtain will not be lifted: it will be permitted to go safely, which is more necessary for one going by himself and following his own path.

Non ergo sequor priores? facio, sed permitto mihi et invenire aliquid et mutare et relinquere; non servio illis, sed assentior.

Do I then not follow the predecessors? I do, but I allow myself both to find something and to change and to leave behind; I do not serve them, but I assent.

[2] Magnum tamen verbum dixi, qui mihi silentium promittebam et sine interpellatore secretum: ecce ingens clamor ex stadio perfertur et me non excutit mihi, sed in huius ipsius rei contemplationem transfert. Cogito mecum quam multi corpora exerceant, ingenia quam pauci; quantus ad spectaculum non fidele et lusorium fiat concursus, quanta sit circa artes bonas solitudo; quam inbecilli animo sint quorum lacertos umerosque miramur.

[2] Yet I have spoken a great word—I who was promising myself silence and, without an interpellator, secrecy: behold, a huge clamor is borne in from the stadium, and it does not shake me from myself, but transfers me into the contemplation of this very thing. I think with myself how many exercise their bodies, how few their wits; how great a concourse is made to a spectacle not bona fide and lusory, how great the solitude around the good arts; how weak in mind are those whose biceps and shoulders we admire.

[3] Illud maxime revolvo mecum: si corpus perduci exercitatione ad hanc patientiam potest qua et pugnos pariter et calces non unius hominis ferat, qua solem ardentissimum in ferventissimo pulvere sustinens aliquis et sanguine suo madens diem ducat, quanto facilius animus conroborari possit ut fortunae ictus invictus excipiat, ut proiectus, ut conculcatus exsurgat. Corpus enim multis eget rebus ut valeat: animus ex se crescit, se ipse alit, se exercet. Illis multo cibo, multa potione opus est, multo oleo, longa denique opera: tibi continget virtus sine apparatu, sine inpensa.

[3] This above all I turn over with myself: if the body can be brought by exercitation to such patience that it bears alike the fists and the kicks not of one man, that someone, sustaining the most burning sun in the most scorching dust and soaked with his own blood, carries the day, by how much more easily can the mind be corroborated, so that it receives the blows of Fortune unconquered, so that, thrown down, so that trampled underfoot, it rises up. For the body needs many things in order to be strong: the mind grows from itself, feeds itself, exercises itself. Those require much food, much drink, much oil, and, in fine, long labor: virtue will come to you without apparatus, without expense.

Quidquid facere te potest bonum tecum est.

Whatever can make you good is with you.

[4] Quid tibi opus est ut sis bonus? velle. Quid autem melius potes velle quam eripere te huic servituti quae omnes premit, quam mancipia quoque condicionis extremae et in his sordibus nata omni modo exuere conantur?

[4] What do you need in order to be good? To will it. And what better can you will than to snatch yourself from this servitude which presses upon everyone, which even slaves of the extremest condition, born in this sordidness, strive in every way to cast off?

Peculium suum, quod comparaverunt ventre fraudato, pro capite numerant: tu non concupisces quanticumque ad libertatem pervenire, qui te in illa putas natum?

They reckon their peculium, which they have acquired by defrauding the belly, as the price for their head: will you not covet, no matter how great the cost, to reach liberty, you who think yourself born for it?

[5] Quid ad arcam tuam respicis? emi non potest. Itaque in tabellas vanum coicitur nomen libertatis, quam nec qui emerunt habent nec qui vendiderunt: tibi des oportet istud bonum, a te petas.

[5] Why do you look to your strongbox? It cannot be bought. Accordingly, onto the tablets the empty name of liberty is cast, which neither those who have bought possess nor those who have sold: you ought to bestow this good on yourself; from yourself you should seek it.

Libera te primum metu mortis (illa nobis iugum inponit), deinde metu paupertatis.

Free yourself first from the fear of death (it imposes a yoke upon us), then from the fear of poverty.

[6] Si vis scire quam nihil in illa mali sit, compara inter se pauperum et divitum vultus: saepius pauper et fidelius ridet; nulla sollicitudo in alto est; etiam si qua incidit cura, velut nubes levis transit: horum qui felices vocantur hilaritas ficta est aut gravis et suppurata tristitia, eo quidem gravior quia interdum non licet palam esse miseros, sed inter aerumnas cor ipsum exedentes necesse est agere felicem.

[6] If you wish to know how there is nothing evil in it, compare the faces of poor and rich: the poor man laughs more often and more faithfully; no solicitude is aloft; even if some care falls in, like a light cloud it passes: of those who are called “happy” the cheerfulness is feigned, or it is a heavy and suppurated sadness—indeed the heavier because sometimes it is not permitted to be openly miserable, but amid hardships, while eating away their very heart, it is necessary to act the happy man.

[7] Saepius hoc exemplo mihi utendum est, nec enim ullo efficacius exprimitur hic humanae vitae mimus, qui nobis partes quas male agamus adsignat. Ille qui in scaena latus incedit et haec resupinus dicit,

[7] More often must I use this example, for by none more efficaciously is this mime of human life expressed, which assigns to us the parts which we play ill. He who on the stage struts broadly and, thrown backward, says these things,

en impero Argis; regna mihi liquit Pelops,
qua ponto ab Helles atque ab Ionio mari
urguetur Isthmos,

lo, I wield imperium at Argos; Pelops left the realms to me,
where the Isthmus is pressed by the sea, by Helle’s sea and by the Ionian sea,

servus est, quinque modios accipit et quinque denarios.

he is a slave; he receives five modii and five denarii.

[8] Ille qui superbus atque inpotens et fiducia virium tumidus ait,

[8] He who, superb and unrestrained, and tumid with confidence in his forces, says,

quod nisi quieris, Menelae, hac dextra occides,

unless you keep quiet, Menelaus, by this right hand you will die,

diurnum accipit, in centunculo dormit. Idem de istis licet omnibus dicas quos supra capita hominum supraque turbam delicatos lectica suspendit: omnium istorum personata felicitas est. Contemnes illos si despoliaveris.

He takes his per diem; he sleeps in a little patchwork cloak. The same you may say of all those whom the litter suspends, pampered, above the heads of men and above the crowd: the happiness of all those is masked. You will contemn them if you despoil them.

[9] Equum empturus solvi iubes stratum, detrahis vestimenta venalibus ne qua vitia corporis lateant: hominem involutum aestimas? Mangones quidquid est quod displiceat, id aliquo lenocinio abscondunt, itaque ementibus ornamenta ipsa suspecta sunt: sive crus alligatum sive brachium aspiceres, nudari iuberes et ipsum tibi corpus ostendi.

[9] About to buy a horse, you order the saddlecloth to be unfastened; you strip garments from those for sale, lest any defects of the body lie hidden: do you appraise a man wrapped up? Slave-dealers hide whatever there is that displeases by some cosmetic trick; and so to purchasers the very ornaments are suspect: whether you saw a leg bandaged or an arm, you would order it to be laid bare and the body itself to be shown to you.

[10] Vides illum Scythiae Sarmatiaeve regem insigni capitis decorum? Si vis illum aestimare totumque scire qualis sit, fasciam solve: multum mali sub illa latet. Quid de aliis loquor?

[10] Do you see that king of Scythia or Sarmatia, adorned with a notable head-insignia? If you wish to appraise him and to know wholly what sort he is, loosen the band: much evil lies hidden beneath it. Why speak of others?

si perpendere te voles, sepone pecuniam, domum, dignitatem, intus te ipse considera: nunc qualis sis aliis credis. Vale.

If you wish to weigh yourself, set aside money, home, dignity, consider yourself within: now you believe others as to what sort you are. Farewell.