Letters of Pliny
by
Pliny

Translated by William Melmoth revised by F. C. T. Bosanquet



GAIUS PLINIUS CAECILIUS SECUNDUS, usually known as
Pliny the Younger, was born at Como in 62 A. D. He was only
eight years old when his father Caecilius died, and he was adopted
by his uncle, the elder Pliny, author of the Natural History. He was
carefully educated, studying rhetoric under Quintilian and other
famous teachers, and he became the most eloquent pleader of his
time. In this and in much else he imitated Cicero, who had by this
time come to be the recognized master of Latin style. While still
young he served as military tribune in Syria, but he does not seem
to have taken zealously to a soldier s life. On his return he entered
politics under the Emperor Domitian; and in the year 100 A. D.
was appointed consul by Trajan and admitted to confidential
intercourse with that emperor. Later while he was governor of
Bithynia, he was in the habit of submitting every point of policy to
his master, and the correspondence between Trajan and him,
which forms the last part of the present selection, is of a high
degree of interest, both on account of the subjects discussed and
for the light thrown on the characters of the two men. He is
supposed to have died about 113 A. D. Pliny's speeches are now
lost, with the exception of one, a panegyric on Trajan delivered in
thanksgiving for the consulate. This, though diffuse and somewhat
too complimentary for modern taste, became a model for this kind
of composition. The others were mostly of two classes, forensic
and political, many of the latter being, like Cicero's speech against
Verres, impeachments of provincial governors for cruelty and
extortion toward their subjects. in these, as in his public activities
in general, he appears as a man of public spirit and integrity; and
in his relations with his native town he was a thoughtful and
munificent benefactor.

The letters, on which to-day his fame mainly rests, were largely
written with a view to publication, and were arranged by Pliny
himself. They thus lack the spontaneity of Cicero s impulsive
utterances, but to most modern readers who are not special
students of Roman history they are even more interesting. They
deal with a great variety of subjects: the description of a Roman
villa; the charms of country life; the reluctance of people to attend
authors  readings and to listen wizen they were present; a dinner
party; legacy-hunting in ancient Rome; the acquisition of a piece
of statuary; his love for his young wife; ghost stories; floating
islands, a tame dolphin, and other marvels. But by far the best
known are those describing the great eruption of Vesuvius in
which his uncle perished, a martyr to scientific curiosity, and the
letter to Trajan on his attempts to suppress Christianity in
Bithynia, with Trajan s reply approving his policy. Taken
altogether, these letters give an absorbingly vivid picture of the
days of the early empire, and of the interests of a cultivated Roman
gentleman of wealth. Occasionally, as in the last letters referred to,
they deal with important historical events; but their chief value is
in bringing before us, in somewhat the same manner as "The
Spectator" pictures the England of the age of Anne, the life of a
time which is not so unlike our own as its distance in years might
indicate. And in this time by no means the least interesting figure
is that of the letter-writer himself, with his vanity and
self-importance, his sensibility and generous affection? hvs
pedantry and his loyalty.

LETTERS GAIUS PLINIUS CAECILIUS SECUNDUS

I

To SEPTITTUS

YOU have frequently pressed me to make a select collection of my
Letters (if there really be any deserving of a special preference)
and give them to the public. I have selected them accordingly; not,
indeed, in their proper order of time, for I was not compiling a
history; but just as each came to hand. And now I have only to
wish that you may have no reason to repent of your advice, nor I of
my compliance: in that case, I may probably enquire after the rest,
which at present he neglected, and preserve those I shall hereafter
write. Farewell.

II

To ARRIANUS

I FORESEE your journey in my direction is likely to be delayed,
and therefore send you the speech which I promised in my former;
requesting you, as usual, to revise and correct it. I desire this the
more earnestly as I never, I think, wrote with the same
empressenient in any of my former speeches; for I have
endeavoured to imitate your old favourite Demosthenes and
Calvus, who is lately become mine, at least in the rhetorical forms
of the speech; for to catch their sublime spirit, is given, alone, to
the "inspired few." My subject, indeed, seemed naturally to lend
itself to this (may I venture to call it?) emulation; consisting, as it
did, almost entirely in a vehement style of address, even to a
degree sufficient to have awakened me (if only I am capable of
being awakened) out of that indolence in which I have long
reposed. I have not however altogether neglected the flowers of
rhetoric of my favourite Marc-Tully, wherever I could with
propriety step out of my direct road, to enjoy a more flowery path:
for it was energy, not austerity, at which I aimed. I would not have
you imagine by this that I am bespeaking your indulgence: on the
contrary, to make your correcting pen more vigorous, I will
confess that neither my friends nor myself are averse from the
publication of this piece, if only you should join in the approval of
what is perhaps my folly. The truth is, as I must publish something,
I, wish it might be this performance rather than any other, because
it is already finished: (you hear the wish of laziness.) At all events,
however, something I must publish, and for many reasons; chiefly
because of the tracts which I have already sent in to the world,
though they have long since lost all their recommendation from
novelty, are still, I am told, in request; if, after all, the booksellers
are not tickling my ears. And let them; since, by that innocent
deceit, I am encouraged to pursue my studies. Farewell.

III

To VOCONIUS ROMANUS

DID YOU ever meet with a more abject and mean-spirited
creature than Marcus Regulus since the death of Domitian, during
whose reign his conduct was no less infamous, though more
concealed, than under Nero's? He began to be afraid I was angry
with him, and his apprehensions were perfectly correct; I was
angry. He had not only done his best to increase the peril of the
position in which Rusticus Arulenus1 stood, but had exulted in his
death; insomuch that he actually recited and published a libel upon
his memory, in which he styles him "The Stoics' Ape": adding,
"stigmated2 with the Vitellian scar."3 You recognize Regulus'
eloquent strain! He fell with such fury upon the character of
Herennius Senecio that Metius Carus said to him, one day, "What
business have you with my dead? Did I ever interfere in the affair
of Crassus' or Camerinus'? " Victims, you know, to Regulus, in
Nero's time. For these reasons he imagined I was highly
exasperated, and so at the recitation of his last piece, I got no
invitation. Besides, he had not forgotten, it seems, with what
deadly purpose he had once attacked me in the Court of the
Hundred.  Rusticus had desired me to act as counsel for Arionilla,
Titnon's wife: Regulus was engaged against me. In one part of the
case I was strongly insisting upon a particular judgment given by
Metius Modestus, an excellent man, at that time in banishment by
Domitian's order. Now then for Regulus. "Pray," says he, "what is
your opinion of Modestus?" You see what a risk I should have run
had I answered that I had a high opinion of him, how I should have
disgraced myself on the other hand if I had replied that I had a bad
opinion of him. But some guardian power, I am persuaded, must
have stood by me to assist me in this emergency. "I will tell you
my opinion," I said, "if that is a matter to be brought before the
court." "I ask you," he repeated, "what is your opinion of
Modestus?" I replied that it was customary to examine witnesses to
the character of an accused man, not to the character of one on
whom sentence had already been passed. He pressed me a third
time. "I do not now enquire, said he, "your opinion of Modestus in
general, I only ask your opinion of his loyalty." "Since you will
have my opinion then," I rejoined, "I think it illegal even to ask a
question concerning a person who stands convicted." He sat down
at this, completely silenced; and I received applause and
congratulation on all sides, that without injuring my reputation by
an advantageous, perhaps, though ungenerous answer, I had not
entangled myself in the toils of so insidious a catch-question.
Thoroughly frightened upon this then, he first seizes upon
Caecilius Celer, next he goes and begs of Fabius Justus, that they
would use their joint interest to bring about a reconciliation
between us. And lest this should not be sufficient, he sets off to
Spurinnz as well; to whom he came in the humblest way (for he is
the most abject creature alive, where he has anything to be afraid
of) and says to him, "Do, I entreat of you, call on Pliny to-morrow
morning, certainly in the morning, no later (for I cannot endure
this anxiety of mind longer), and endeavour by any means in your
power to soften his resentment." I was already up, the next day,
when a message arrived from Spurinna, "I am coming to call on
you." I sent word back, "Nay, I will wait upon you;" however, both
of us setting out to pay this visit, we met under Livia's portico. He
acquainted me with the commission he had received from
Regulus, and interceded for him as became so worthy a man in
behalf of one so totally dissimilar, without greatly pressing the
thing. "I will leave it to you," was my reply, "to consider what
answer to return Regulus; you ought not to be deceived by me. I
am waiting for Mauricus'7 return" (for he had not yet come back
out of exile), "so that I cannot give you any definite answer either
way, as I mean to be guided entirely by his decision, for he ought
to be my leader here, and I simply to do as he says." Well, a few
days after this, Regulus met me as I was at the praetor's; he kept
close to me there and begged a word in private, when he said he
was afraid I deeply resented an expression he had once made use
of in his reply to Satrius and myself, before the Court of the
Hundred, to this effect, "Satrius Rufus, who does not endeavour to
rival Cicero, and who is content with the eloquence of our own
day." I answered, now I perceived indeed, upon his own
confession, that he had meant it ill-naturedly; otherwise it might
have passed for a compliment. "For I am free to own," I said, "that
I do endeavour to rival Cicero, and am not content with the
eloquence of our own day. For I consider it the very height of folly
not to copy the best models of every kind. But, how happens it that
you, who have so good a recollection of what passed upon this
occasion, should have forgotten that other, when you asked me my
opinion of the loyalty of Modestus?" Pale as he always is, he
turned simply pallid at this, and stammered out, "I did not intend
to hurt you when I asked this question, but Modestus." Observe the
vindictive cruelty of the fellow, who made no concealment of his
willingness to injure a banished man. But the reason he alleged in
justification of his conduct is pleasant. Modestus, he explained, in
a letter of his, which was read to Domitian, had used the following
expression, "Regulus, the biggest rascal that walks upon two feet :"
and what Modestus had written was the simple truth, beyond all
manner of controversy. Here, about, our conversation came to an
end, for I did not wish to proceed further, being desirous to keep
matters open until Mauricus returns. It is no easy matter, I am well
aware of that, to destroy Regulus; he is rich, and at the head of a
party; courted8 by many, feared by more: a passion that will
sometimes prevail even beyond friendship itself. But, after all, ties
of this sort are not so strong but they may be loosened; for a bad
man's credit is as shifty as himself. However (to repeat), I am
waiting until Mauricus comes back. He is a man of sound
judgment and great sagacity formed upon long experience, and
who, from his observations of the past, well knows how to judge of
the future. I shall talk the matter over with him, and consider
myself justified either in pursuing or dropping this affair, as he
shall advise. Meanwhile I thought I owed this account to our
mutual friendship, which gives you an undoubted right to know
about not only all my actions but all my plans as well. Farewell.

IV

To CORNELIUS TACITUS

You will laugh (and you are quite welcome) when I tell you that
your old acquaintance is turned sportsman, and has taken three
noble boars. "What!" you exclaim, "Pliny! "--Even he. However, I
indulged at the same time my beloved inactivity; and, whilst I sat
at my nets, you would have found me, not with boar spear or
javelin, but pencil and tablet, by my side. I mused and wrote, being
determined to return, if with all my hands empty, at least with my
memorandums full. Believe me, this way of studying is not to be
despised: it is wonderful how the mind is stirred and quickened
into activity by brisk bodily exercise. There is something, too, in
the solemnity of the venerable woods with which one is
surrounded, together with that profound silence which is observed
on these occasions, that forcibly disposes the mind to meditation.
So for the future, let me advise you, whenever you hunt, to take
your tablets along with you, as well as your basket and bottle, for
be assured you will find Minerva no less fond of traversing the
hills than Diana. Farewell.

V

To POMPEIUS SATURNINUS

NOTHING could be more seasonable than the letter which I
received from you, in which you so earnestly beg me to send you
some of my literary efforts: the very thing I was intending to do. So
you have only put spurs into a willing horse and at once saved
yourself the excuse of refusing the trouble, and me the
awkwardness of asking the favour. Without hesitation then I avail
myself of your offer; as you must now take the consequence of it
without reluctance. But you are not to expect anything new from a
lazy fellow, for I am going to ask you to revise again the speech I
made to my fellow-townsmen when I dedicated the public library
to their use. You have already, I remember, obliged me with some
annotations upon this piece, but only in a general way; and so I
now beg of you not only to take a general view of the whole
speech, but, as you usually do, to go over it in detail. When you
have corrected it, I shall still be at liberty to publish or suppress it:
and the delay in the meantime will be attended with one of these
alternatives; for, while we are deliberating whether it is fit for
publishing, a frequent revision will either make it so, or convince
me that it is not. Though indeed my principal difficulty respecting
the publication of this harangue arises not so much from the
composition as out of the subject itself, which has something in it,
I am afraid, that will look too like ostentation and self-conceit. For,
be the style ever so plain and unassuming, yet, as the occasion
necessarily led me to speak not only of the munificence of my
ancestors, but of my own as well, my modesty will be seriously
embarrassed. A dangerous and slippery situation this, even when
one is led into it by plea of necessity! For, if mankind are not very
favourable to panegyric, even when bestowed upon others, how
much more difficult is it to reconcile them to it when it is a tribute
which we pay to ourselves or to our ancestors? Virtue, by herself,
is generally the object of envy, but particularly so when glory and
distinction attend her; and the world is never so little disposed to
detract from the rectitude of your conduct as when it passes
unobserved and unapplauded. For these reasons, I frequently ask
myself whether I composed this harangue, such as it is, merely
from a personal consideration, or with a view to the public as well;
and I am sensible that what may be exceedingly useful and proper
in the prosecution of any affair may lose all its grace and fitness
the moment the business is completed: for instance, in the case
before us, what could be more to my purpose than to explain at
large the motives of my intended bounty? For, first, it engaged my
mind in good and ennobling thoughts; next, it enabled me, by
frequent dwelling upon them, to receive a perfect impression of
their loveliness, while it guarded at the same time against that
repentance which is sure to follow on an impulsive act of
generosity. There arose also a further advantage from this method,
as it fixed in me a certain habitual contempt of money. For, while
mankind seem to be universally governed by an innate passion to
accumulate wealth, the cultivation of a more generous affection in
my own breast taught me to emancipate myself from the slavery of
so predominant a principle: and I thought that my honest intentions
would be the more meritorious as they should appear to proceed,
not from sudden impulse, bttt from the dictates of cool and
deliberate reflection. I considered, besides, that I was not engaging
myself to exhibit public games or gladiatorial combats, but to
establish an annual fund for the support and education of young
men of good families but scanty means. The pleasures of the
senses are so far from wanting the oratorical arts to recommend
them that we stand in need of all the powers of eloquence to
moderate and restrain rather than stir up their influence. But the
work of getting anybody to cheerfully undertake the monotony and
drudgery of education must be effected not by pay merely, but by a
skilfully worked-up appeal to the emotions as well. If physicians
find it expedient to use the most insinuating address in
recommending to their patients a wholesome though, perhaps,
unpleasant regimen, how much more occasion had he to exert all
the powers of persuasion who, out of regard to the public welfare,
was endeavouring to reconcile it to a most useful though not
equally popular benefaction? Particularly, as my aim was to
recommend an institution, calculated solely for the benefit of those
who were parents to men who, at present, had no children; and to
persuade the greater number to wait patiently until they should be
entitled to an honour of which a few only could immediately
partake. But as at that fime, when I attempted to explain and
enforce the general design and benefit of my institution, I
considered more the general good of my countrymen, than any
reputation which might result to myself; so I am apprehensive lest,
if I publish that pIece, it may perhaps look as if I had a view rather
to my own personal credit than the benefit of others, Besides, I am
very sensible how much nobler it is to place the reward of virtue in
the silent approbation of one's own breast than in the applause of
the world. Glory ought to be the consequence, not the motive, of
our actions; and although it happen not to attend the worthy deed,
yet it is by no means the less fair for having missed the applause it
deserved. But the world is apt to suspect that those who celebrate
their own beneficent acts performed them for no other motive than
to have the pleasure of extolling them. Thus, the splendour of an
action which would have been deemed illustrious if related by
another is totally extinguished when it becomes the subject of
one's own applause. Such is the disposition of mankind, if they
cannot blast the action, they will censure its display; and whether
you do what does not deserve particular notice, or set forth
yourself what does, either way you incur reproach. In my own case
there is a peculiar circumstance that weighs much with me: this
speech was delivered not before the people, but the Decurii;9  not
in the forum, but the senate; I am afraid therefore it will look
inconsistent that I, who, when I delivered it, seemed to avoid
popular applause, should now, by publishing this performance,
appear to court it: that I, who was so scrupulous as not to admit
even these persons to be present when I delivered this speech, who
were interested in my benefaction, lest it, might be suspected I was
actuated in this affair by any ambitious views, should now seem to
solicit admiration, by forwardly displaying it to such as have no
other concern in my munificence than the benefit of example.
These are the scruples which have occasioned my delay in giving
this piece to the public; but I submit them entirely to your
judgment, which I shall ever esteem as a sufficient sanction of my
conduct. Farewell.

VI

To ATRIUS CLEMENS

IF ever polite literature flourished at Rome, it certainly flourishes
now; and I could give you many eminent instances: I will content
myself, however, with naming only Euphrates10 the philosopher. I
first became acquainted with this excellent person in my youth,
when I served in the army in Syria. I had an opportunity of
conversing with him familiarly, and took some pains to gain his
affection: though that, indeed, was not very difficult, for he is easy
of access, unreserved, and actuated by those social principles he
professes to teach. I should think myself extremely happy if I had
as fully answered the expectations he, at that time, conceived of
me, as he exceeds everything I had imagined of him. But, perhaps,
I admire his excellencies more now than I did then, because I
know better how to appreciate them; not that I sufficiently
appreciate them even now. For as none but those who are skilled in
painting, statuary, or the plastic art, can form a right judgment of
any performance in those respective modes of representation, so a
man must, himself, have made great advances in philosophy before
he is capable of forming a just opinion of a philosopher. However,
as far as I am qualified to determine, Euphrates is possessed of so
many shining talents that he cannot fail to attract and impress the
most ordinarily educated observer. He reasons with much force,
acuteness, and elegance; and frequently rises into all the sublime
and luxuriant eloquence of Plato. His style is varied and flowing,
and at the same time so wonderfully captivating that he forces the
reluctant attention of the most unwilling hearer. For the rest, a fine
stature, a comely aspect, long hair, and a large silver beard;
circumstances which, though they may probably be thought trifling
and accidental, contribute, however, to gain him much reverence.
There is no affected negligence in his dress and appearance; his
countenance is grave but not austere; and his approach commands
respect without creating awe. Distinguished as he is by the perfect
blamelessness of his life, he is no less so by the courtesy and
engaging sweetness of his manner. He attacks vices, not persons,
and, without severity, reclaims the wanderer from the paths of
virtue. You follow his exhortations with rapt attention, hanging,
as it were, upon his lips; and even after the heart is convinced, the
ear still wishes to listen to the harmonious reasoner. His family
consists of three children (two of which are sons), whom he
educates with the utmost care. His father-in-law, Pompeius
Julianus, as he greatly distinguished himself in every other part of
his life, so particularly in this, that though he was himself of the
highest rank in his province, yet, among many considerable
matches, he preferred Euphrates for his son-in-law, as first in
merit, though not in dignity. But why do I dwell any longer upon
the virtues of a man whose conversation I am so unfortunate as not
to have time sufficiently to enjoy? Is it to increase my regret and
vexation that I cannot enjoy it? My time is wholly taken up in the
execution of a very honourable, indeed, but equally troublesome,
employment; in hearing cases, signing petitions, making up
accounts, and writing a vast amount of the most illiterate
literature. I sometimes complain to Euphrates (for I have leisure at
least to complain) of these unpleasing occupations. He endeavours
to console me, by affirming that, to be engaged in the public
service, to hear and determine cases, to explain the laws, and
administer justice, is a part, and the noblest part, too, of
philosophy; as it is reducing to practice what her professors teach
in speculation. But even his rhetoric will never be able to convince
me that it is better to be at this sort of work than to spend whole
days in attending his lectures and learning his precepts. I cannot
therefore but strongly recommend it to you, who have the time for
it, when next you come to town (and you will come, I daresay, so
much the sooner for this), to take the benefit of his elegant and
refined instructions. For I do not (as many do) envy others the
happiness I cannot share with them myself: on the contrary, it is a
very sensible pleasure to me when I find my friends in possession
of an enjoyment from which I have the misfortune to be excluded.
Farewell.

VII

To FABIUS JUSTUS

IT is a long time since I have had a letter from you, "There is
nothing to write about," you say: well then write and let me know
just this, that "there is nothing to write about," or tell me in the
good old style, If you are well that's right, I am quite well. This
will do for me, for it implies everything. You think I am joking?
Let me assure you I am in sober earnest. Do let me know how you
are; for I cannot remain ignorant any longer without growing
exceedingly anxious about you. Farewell.

VIII

To CALESTRIUS TIRO

I HAVE suffered the heaviest loss; if that word be sufficiently
strong to express the misfortune which has deprived me of so
excellent a man. Corellius Rufus is dead; and dead, too, by his
own act! A circumstance of great aggravation to my affliction: as
that sort of death which we cannot impute either to the course of
nature, or the hand of Providence, is, of all others, the most to be
lamented. It affords some consolation in the loss of those friends
whom disease snatches from us that they fall by the general destiny
of mankind; but those who destroy themselves leave us under the
inconsolable reflection, that they had it in their power to have
lived longer. It is true, Corellius had many inducements to be fond
of life; a blameless conscience, high reputation, and great dignity
of character, besides a daughter, a wife, a grandson, and sisters;
and, amidst these numerous pledges of happiness, faithful friends.
Still, it must be owned he had the highest motive (which to a wise
man will always have the force of destiny), urging him to this
resolution. He had long been tortured by so tedious and painful a
complaint that even these inducements to living on, considerable
as they are, were over-balanced by the reasons on the other side. In
his thirty-third year (as I have frequently heard him say) he was
seized with the gout in his feet. This was hereditary; for diseases,
as well as possessions, are sometimes handed down by a sort of
inheritance. A life of sobriety and continence had enabled him to
conquer and keep down the disease while he was still young,
latterly as it grew upon him with advancing years, he had to
manfully bear it, suffering meanwhile the most incredible and
undeserved agonies; for the gout was now not only in his feet, but
had spread itself over his whole body. I remember, in Domitian's
reign, paying him a visit at his villa, near Rome. As soon as I
entered his chamber, his servants went out: for it was his rule,
never to allow them to be in the room when any intimate friend
was with him; nay, even his own wife, though she could have kept
any secret, used to go too. Casting his eyes round the room, "Why,"
he exclaimed, "do you suppose I endure life so long under these
cruel agonies? It is with the hope that I may outlive, at least for
one day, that villain." Had his bodily strength been equal to his
resolution, he would have carried his desire into practical effect.
God heard and answered his prayer; and when he felt that he
should now die a free, un-enslaved, Roman, he broke through
those other great, but now less forcible, attachments to the world.
His malady increased; arid, as it now grew too violent to admit of
any relief from temperance, he resolutely determined to put an end
to its uninterrupted attacks, by an effort of heroism. He had
refused all sustenance during four days when his wife Hispulla
sent our common friend Geminius to me, with the melancholy
news, that Corellius was resolved to die; and that neither her own
entreaties nor her daughter's could move him from his purpose; I
was the only person left who could reconcile him to life. I ran to
his house with the utmost precipitation. As I approached it, I met a
second messenger from Hispulla, Julius Atticus, who informed me
there was nothing to be hoped for now, even from me, as he
seemed more hardened than ever in his purpose. He had said,
indeed to his physician, who pressed him to take some
nourishment, "'Tis resolved": an expression which, as it raised my
admiration of the greatness of his soul, so it does my grief for the
loss of him. I keep thinking what a friend, what a man, I am
deprived of. That he had reached his sixty-seventh year, an age
which even the strongest seldom exceed, I well know; that he is
teleased from a life of continual pan; that he has left his dearest
friends behind him, and (what was dearer to him than all these) the
state in a prosperous condition: all this I know. Still I cannot
forbear to lament him, as if he had been in the prime and vigour of
his days; and I lament him (shall I own my weakness?) on my
account. And--to confess to you as I did to Calvisius, in the first
transport of my grief--I sadly fear, now that I am no longer under
his eye, I shall not keep so strict a guard over my conduct. Speak
comfort to me then, not that he was old, he was infirm; all this I
know: but by supplying me with some reflections that are new and
resistless, which I have never heard, never read, anywhere else. For
all that I have heard, and all that I have read, occur to me of
themselves; but all these are by far too weak to support me under
so severe an affliction. Farewell.

IX

To SOCIUS SENECIO

THIs year has produced a plentiful crop of poets: during the whole
month of April scarcely a day has passed on which we have not
been entertained with the recital of some poem. It is a pleasure to
me to find that a taste for polite literature still exists, and that men
of genius do come forward and make themseves known,
notwithstanding the lazy attendance they got for their pains. The
greater part of the audience sit in the lounging-places, gossip away
their time there, and are perpetually sending to enquire whether the
author has made his entrance yet, whether he has got through the
preface, or whether he has almost finished the piece. Then at
length they saunter in with an air of the greatest indifference, nor
do they condescend to stay through the recital, but go out before it
is over, some slyly and stealthily, others again with perfect
freedom and unconcern. And yet our fathers can remember how
Claudius C~sar walking one day in the palace, and hearing a great
shouting, enquired the cause: and being informed that Nonianus11
was reciting a composition of his, went immediately to the place,
and agreeably surprised the author with his presence. But now,
were one to bespeak the attendance of the idlest man living, and
remind him of the appointment ever so often, or ever so long
beforehand; either he would not come at all, or if he did would
grumble about having "lost a day!" for no other reason but because
he had not lost it. So much the more do those authors deserve our
encouragement and applause who have resolution to persevere in
their studies, and to read out their compositions in spite of this
apathy or arrogance on the part of their audience. Myself indeed, I
scarcely ever miss being present upon any occasion; though, to tell
the truth, the authors have generally been friends of mine, as
indeed there are few men of literary tastes who are not. It is this
which has kept me in town longer than I had intended. I am now,
however, at liberty to go back into the country, and write
something myself; which I do not intend reciting, lest I should
seem rather to have lent than given my attendance to these
recitations of my friends, for in these, as in all other good offices,
the obligation ceases the moment you seem to expect a return.
Farewell.

X

To JUNSUS MAURICUS

You desire me to look out a proper husband for your niece: it is
with justice you enjoin me that office. You know the high esteem
and affection I bore that great man her father, and with what noble
instructions he nurtured my youth, and taught me to deserve those
praises he was pleased to bestow upon me. You could not give me,
then, a more important, or more agreeable, commission; nor could
I be employed in an office of higher honour, than that of choosing
a young man worthy of being father of the grandchildren of
Rusticus Arulenus; a choice I should be long in determining, were
I not acquainted with Minutius Aemilianus, who seems formed for
our purpose. He loves me with all that warmth of affection which
is usual between young men of equal years (as indeed I have the
advance of him but by a very few), and reveres me at the same
time, with all the deference due to age; and, in a word, he is no
less desirous to model himself by my instructions than I was by
those of yourself and your brother.

He is a native of Brixia, one of those provinces in Italy which still
retain much of the old modesty, frugal simplicity, and even
rusticity, of manner. He is the son of Minutius Macrinus, whose
humble desires were satisfied with standing at the head of the
equestrian order: for though he was nominated by Vespasian in the
number of those whom that prince dignified with the praetorian
office, yet, with an inflexible greatness of mind, he resolutely
preferred an honourable repose, to the ambitious, shall I call them,
or exalted, pursuits, in which we public men are engaged. His
grandmother, on the mother's side, is Serrana Procula, of
Patavium:12 you are no stranger to the character of its citizens; yet
Serrana is looked upon, even among these correct people, as an
exemplary instance of strict virtue, Acilius, his uncle, is a man of
almost exceptional gravity, wisdom, and integrity. In short, you
will find nothing throughout his family unworthy of yours.
Minutius himself has plenty of vivacity, as well as application,
together with a most amiable and becoming modesty. He has
already, with considerable credit, passed through the offices of
quaestor, tribune, and praetor; so that you will be spared the
trouble of soliciting for him those honourable employments. He
has a fine, well-bred, countenance, with a ruddy, healthy
complexion, while his whole person is elegant and comely and his
mien graceful and senatorian: advantages, I think, by no means to
be slighted, and which I consider as the proper tribute to virgin
innocence. I think I may add that his father is very rich. When I
contemplate the character of those who require a husband of my
choosing, I know it is unnecessary to mention wealth; but when I
reflect upon the prevailing manners of the age, and even the laws
of Rome, which rank a man according to his possessions, it
certainly claims some regard; and, indeed, in establishments of this
nature, where children and many other circumstances are to be
duly weighed, it is an article that well deserves to be taken into the
account. You will be inclined, perhaps, to suspect that affection
has had too great a share in the character I have been drawing, and
that I have heightened it beyond the truth: but I will stake all my
credit, you will find everything far beyond what I have
represented. I love the young fellow indeed (as he justly deserves)
with all the warmth of a most ardent affection; but for that very
reason I would not ascribe more to his merit than I know it will
bear. Farewell.

XI

To SEPTITIUS CLARUS

An! you are a pretty fellow! You make an engagement to come to
supper and then never appear. Justice shall be exacted;--you shall
reimburse me to the very last penny the expense I went to on your
account; no small sum, let me tell you. I had prepared, you must
know, a lettuce a-piece, three snails, two eggs, and a barley cake,
with some sweet wine and snow, (the snow most certainly I shall
charge to your account, as a rarity that will not keep.) Olives,
beet-root, gourds, onions, and a thousand other dainties equally
sumptuous. You should. likewise have been entertained either with
an interlude, the rehearsal of a poem, or a piece of music,
whichever you preferred; or (such was my liberality) with all three.
But the oysters, sows'-bellies, sea-urchins, and dancers from Cadiz
of a certain -- I know not who, were, it seems, more to your taste.
You shall give satisfaction, how, shall at present be a secret.

Oh! you have behaved cruelly, grudging your friend, --had almost
said yourself ;--and upon second thoughts I do say so ;--in this way:
for how agreeably should we have spent the evening, in laughing,
trifling, and literary amusements! You may sup, I confess, at many
places more splendidly; but nowhere with more unconstrained
mirth, simplicity, and freedom: only make the experiment, and if
you do not ever after excuse yourself to your other friends, to come
to me, always put me off to go to them. Farewell.

XII

To SUETONIUS TRANQUILLUS

You tell me in your letter that you are extremely alarmed by a
dream; apprehending that it forebodes some ill success to you in
the case you have undertaken to defend; and, therefore, desire that
I would get it adjourned for a few days, or, at least, to the next.
This will be no easy matter, but I will try:

. . . . .  "For dreams descend from Jove."

Meanwhile, it is very material for you to recollect whether your
dreams generally represent things as they afterwards fall out, or
quite the reverse. But if I may judge of yours by one that happened
to myself, this dream that alarms you seems to portend that you
will acquit yourself with great success. I had promised to stand
counsel for Junius Pastor; when I fancied in my sleep that my
mother-in-law came to me, and, throwing herself at my feet,
earnestly entreated me not to plead. I was at that time a very young
man; the case was to be argued in the four centumviral courts; my
adversaries were some of the most important personages in Rome,
and particular favourites of Caesar;13 any of which circumstances
were sufficient, after such an inauspicious dream, to have
discouraged me. Notwithstanding this, I engaged in the cause,
reflecting that,

"Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws,
And asks no omen but his country's cause."14

for I looked upon the promise I had given to be as sacred to me as
my country, or, if that were possible, more so. The event happened
as I wished; and it was that very case which first procured me the
favourable attention of the public, and threw open to me the gates
of Fame. Consider then whether your dream, like this one I have
related, may not pre-signify success. But, after all, perhaps you
will think it safer to pursue this cautious maxim: "Never do a thing
concerning the rectitude of which you are in doubt;" if so, write
me word. In the interval, I will consider of some excuse, and will
so plead your cause that you may be able to plead it your self any
day you like best. In this respect, you are in a better situation than I
was: the court of the centumviri, where I was to plead, admits of
no adjournment: whereas, in that where your case is to be heard,
though no easy matter to procure one, still, however, it is possible.
Farewell.

XIII

To ROMANUS FIRMUS

As you are my towns-man, my school-fellow, and the earliest
companion of my youth; as there was the strictest friendship
between my mother and uncle and your father (a happiness which I
also enjoyed as far as the great inequality of our ages would admit)
; can I fail (thus biassed as I am by so many and weighty
considerations) to contribute all in my power to the advancement
of your honours? The rank you bear in our province, as decurio, is
a proof that you are possessed, at least, of an hundred thousand
sesterces;15 but that we may also have the satisfaction of seeing
you a Roman Knight,16 I present you with three hundred thousand,
in order to make up the sum requisite to entitle you to that dignity.
The long acquaintance we have had leaves me no room to
apprehend you will ever be forgetful of this instance of my
friendship. And I know your disposition too well to think it
necessary to advise you to enjoy this honour with the modesty that
becomes a person who receives it from me; for the advanced rank
we possess through a friend's kindness is a sort of sacred trust, in
which we have his judgment, as well as our own character, to
maintain, and therefore to be guarded with the greater caution.
Fared well.

XIV

TO CORNELIUS TACITUS

I HAVE frequent debates with a certain acquaintance of mine, a
man of skill and learning, who admires nothing so much in the
eloquence of the bar as conciseness. I agree with him, that where
the case will admit of this precision, it may with propriety be
adopted; but insist that, to leave out what is material to be
mentioned,-or only briefly and cursorily to touch upon those points
which should be inculcated, impressed, and urged well home upon
the minds of the audience, is a downright fraud upon one's client.
In many cases, to deal with the subject at greater length adds
strength and weight to our ideas, which frequently produce their
impression upon the mind, as iron does upon solid bodies, rather
by repeated strokes than a single blow. In answer to this, he
usually has recourse to authorities, and produces Lysias17 amongst
the Grecians, together with Cato and the two Gracchi, among our
own countrymen, many of whose speeches certainly are brief and
curtailed. In return, I name Demosthenes, Aeschines, Hyperides,18
and many others, in opposition to Lysias; while I confront Cato
and the Gracchi with Caesar, Pollio,19 Caelius,20 but, above all,
Cicero, whose longest speech is generally considered his best.
Why, no doubt about it, in good compositions, as in everything
else that is valuable, the more there is of them, the better. You may
observe in statues, basso-relievos, pictures, and the human form,
and even in animals and trees, that nothing is more graceful than
magnitude, if accompanied with proportion. The same holds true
in pleading; and even in books a large volume carries a certain
beauty and authority in its very size. My antagonist, who is
extremely dexterous at evading an argument, eludes all this, and
much more, which I usually urge to the same purpose, by insisting
that those very individuals, upon whose works I found my opinion,
made considerable additions to their speeches when they published
them. This I deny; and appeal to the harangues of numberless
orators, particularly to those of Cicero, for Murena and Varenus, in
which a short, bare notification of certain charges is expressed
under mere heads. Whence it appears that many things which he
enlarged upon at the time he delivered those speeches were
retrenched when he gave them to the public. The same excellent
orator informs us that, agreeably to the ancient custom, which
allowed only of one counsel on a side, Cluentius had no other
advocate than himself; and he tells us further that he employed
four whole days in defence of Cornelius; by which it plainly
appears that those speeches which, when delivered at their full
length, had necessarily taken up so much time at the bar were
considerably cut down and pruned when he afterwards compressed
them into a single volume, though, I must confess, indeed, a large
one. But good pleading, it is objected, is one thing, just
composition another. This objection, I am aware, has had some
favourers; nevertheless, I ant persuaded (though I may, perhaps, be
mistaken) that, as it is possible you may have a good pleading
which is not a good speech, so a good speech cannot be a bad
pleading; for the speech on paper is the model and, as it were, the
archetype of the speech that was delivered. It is for this reason we
find, in many of the best speeches extant, numberless
extemporaneous turns of expression; and even in those which we
are sure were never spoken; as, for instance, in the following
passage from the speech against Verres :--"A certain mechanic--
what's his name? Oh, thank you for helping me to it: yes, I mean
Polyclitus." It follows, then, that the nearer approach a speaker
makes to the rules of just composition, the more perfect will he be
in his art; always supposing, however, that he has his due share of
time allowed him; for, if he be limited of that article, no blame can
justly be fixed upon the advocate, though much certainly upon the
judge. The sense of the laws, I am sure, is on my side, which are
by no means sparing of the orator's time; it is not conciseness, but
fulness, a complete representation of every material circumstance,
which they recommend. Now conciseness cannot effect this,
unless in the most insignificant cases. Let me add what experience,
that unerring guide, has taught me: it has frequently been my
province to act both as an advocate and a judge; and I have often
also attended as an assessor.21 Upon those occasions, I have ever
found the judgments of mankind are to be influenced by different
modes of application, and that the slightest circumstances
frequently produce the most important consequences. The
dispositions and understandings of men vary to such an extent that
they seldom agree in their opinions concerning any one point in
debate before them; or, if they do, it is generally from different
motives. Besides, as every man is naturally partial to his own
discoveries, when he hears an argument urged which had
previously occurred to himself, he will be sure to embrace it as
extremely convincing. The orator, therefore, should so adapt
himself to his audience as to throw out something which every one
of them, in turn, may receive and approve as agreeable to his own
particular views. I recollect, once when Regulus and I were
engaged on the same side, his remarking to me, "You seem to
think it necessary to go into every single circumstance: whereas I
always take aim at once at my adversary's throat, and there I press
him closely." ('Tis true, he keeps a tight hold of whatever part he
has once fixed upon; but the misfortune is, he is extremely apt to
fix upon the wrong place.) I replied, it might possibly happen that
what he called the throat was, in reality, the knee or the ankle. As
for myself, said I, who do not pretend to direct my aim with so
much precision, I test every part, I probe every opening; in short,
to use a vulgar proverb, I (eave no stone unturned. And as in
agriculture, it is not my vineyards or my woods only, but my fields
as well, that I look after and cultivate, and (to carry on the
metaphor) as I do not content myself with sowing those fields
simply with corn or white wheat, but sprinkle in barley, pulse, and
the other kinds of grain; so, in my pleadings at the bar, I scatter
broadcast various arguments like so many kinds of seed, in order
to reap whatever may happen to come up. For the disposition of
your judges is as hard to fathom as uncertain, and as little to be
relied on as that of soils and seasons. The comic writer Eupolis,22
I remember, mentions it in praise of that excellent orator Pericles,
that

"On his lips Persuasion hung,
And powerful Reason rul'd his tongue:
Thus he alone could boast the art
To charm at once, and pierce the heart."

But could Pericles, without the richest  variety of expression, and
merely by the force of the concise or the rapid style, or both (for
they are very different), have thus charmed and pierced the heart.
To delight and to persuade requires time and great command of
language; and to leave a sting in the minds of the audience is an
effect not to be expected from an orator who merely pinks, but
from him, and him only, who thrusts in. Another comic poet,24
speaking of the same orator, says:

"His mighty words like Jove's own thunder roll;
Greece hears, and trembles to her inmost soul."

But it is not the close and reserved; it is the copious, the majestic,
and the sublime orator, who thunders, who lightens, who, in short,
bears all before him in a confused whirl. There is, undeniably, a
just mean in everything; but he equally misses the mark who falls
short of it, as he who goes beyond it; he who is too limited as he
who is too unrestrained. Hence it is as common a thing to hear our
orators condemned for being too jejune and feeble as too excessive
and redundant. One is said to have exceeded the bounds of his
subject, the other not to have reached them. Both, no doubt, are
equally in fault, with this difference, however, that in the one the
fault arises from an abundance, in the other, from a deficiency; an
error, in the former case, which, if it be not the sign of a more
correct, is certainly of  a more fertile genius. When I say this, I
would not be understood to approve that everlasting talker25
mentioned in Homer, but that other' described in the following
lines:

"Frequent and soft, as falls the winter snow,
Thus from his lips the copious periods flow."

Not but that I extremely admire him,26  too, of whom the poet
says,

"Few were his words, but wonderfully strong."

Yet, if the choice were given me, I should give the preference to
that style resembling winter snow, that is, to the full,
uninterrupted, and diffusive; in short, to that pomp of eloquence
which seems all heavenly and divine. But (it is replied) the
harangue of a more moderate length is most generally admired. It
is :--but only by indolent people; and to fix the standard by their
laziness and false delicacy would be simply ridiculous. Were you
to consult persons of this cast, they would tell you, not only that it
is best to say little, but that it is best to say nothing at all. Thus, my
friend, I have laid before you my opinions upon this subject, and I
am willing to change them if not agreeable to yours. But should
you disagree with me, pray let me know clearly your reasons why.
For, though I ought to yield in this case to your more enlightened
judgment, yet, in a point of such consequence, I had rather be
convinced by argument than by authority. So if I don't seem to you
very wide -of the mark, a line or two from you in return, intimating
your concurrence, will be sufficient to confirm me in my opinion:
on the other hand, if you should think me mistaken, let me have
your objections at full length. Does it not look rather like bribery,
my requiring only a short letter, if you agree with me; but a very
long one if you should be of a different opinion. Farewell.

XV

To PATERNUS

As I rely very much upon the soundness of your judgment, so I do
upon the goodness of your eyes: not because I think your
discernment very great (for I don't want to make you conceited),
but because I think it as good as mine: which, it must be confessed,
is saying a great deal. Joking apart, I like the look of the slaves
which were purchased for me on your recommendation very well;
all I further care about is, that they be honest: and for this I must
depend upon their characters more than their countenances.
Farewell.

XVI

To CATILIUS SEVERUS 27

I AM at present (and have been a considerable time) detained in
Rome, under the most stunning apprehensions. Titus Aristo,28
whom I have a singular admiration and affection for, is fallen into
a long and obstinate illness, which troubles me. Virtue,
knowledge, and good sense, shine out with so superior a lustre in
this excellent man that learning herself, and every valuable
endowment, seem involved in the danger of his single person. How
consummate his knowledge, both in the political and civil laws of
his country! How thoroughly conversant is he in every branch of
history or antiquity? In a word, there is nothing you might wish to
know which he could not teach you. As for me, whenever I would
acquaint myself with any abstruse point, I go to hint as my
store-house. What an engaging sincerity, what dignity in his
conversation! how chastened and becoming is his caution! Though
he conceives, at once, every point in debate, yet he is as slow to
decide as he is quick to apprehend; calmly and deliberately sifting
and weighing every opposite reason that is offered, and tracing it,
with a most judicious penetration, from its source through all its
remotest consequences. His diet is frugal, his dress plain; and
whenever I enter his chamber, and view him reclined upon his
couch, I consider the scene before me as a true image of ancient
simplicity, to which his illustriotis mind reflects the noblest
ornament. He places no part of his happiness in ostentation, but in
the secret approbation of his conscience, seeking the reward of his
virtue, not in the clamorous applauses of the world, but in the
silent satisfaction which results from having acted well. In short,
you will not easily find his equal, even among our philosophers by
outward profession. No, he does not frequent the gyntnasia or
porticoes29 nor does he amuse his own and others' leisure with
endless controversies, but busies himself in the scenes of civil and
active life. Many has he assisted with his interest, still more with
his advice, and withal in the practice of temperance, piety, justice,
and fortitude, he has no superior. You would be astonished, were
you there to see, at the patience with which he bears his illness,
how he holds out against pain, endures thirst, and quietly submits
to this raging fever and to the pressure of those clothes which are
laid upon him to promote perspiration. He lately called me and a
few more of his particular friends to his bedside, requesting us to
ask his physicians what turn they apprehended his distemper
would take; that, if they pronounced it incurable, he might
voluntarily put an end to his life; but if there were hopes of a
recovery, how tedious and difficult soever it might prove, he
would calmly wait the event; for so much, he thought, was due to
the tears and entreaties of his wife and daughter, and to the
affectionate intercession of his friends, as not voluntarily to
abandon our hopes, if they were not entirely desperate. A true
hero's resolution this, in my estimation, and worthy the highest
applause. Instances are frequent in the world, of rushing into the
arms of death without reflection and by a sort of blind impulse but
deliberately to weigh the reasons for life or death, and to be
determined in our choice as either side of the scale prevails, shows
a great mind. We have had the satisfaction to receive the opinion
of his physicians in his favour: may heaven favour their promises
and relieve me at length from this painful anxiety. Once easy in
my mind, I shall go back to my favourite Laurentum, or, in other
words, to my books, my papers and studious leisure. Just now, so
much of my time and thoughts are taken up in attendance upon my
friend, and anxiety for him, that I have neither leisure nor
inclination for any reading or writing whatever. Thus you have my
fears, my wishes, and my after-plans. Write me in return, but in a
gayer strain, an account not only of what you are and have been
doing, but of what you intend doing too. It will be a very sensible
consolation to me in this disturbance of mind, to be assured that
yours is easy. Farewell.

XVII

To VOCONIUS ROMANUS

ROME has not for many years beheld a more magnificent and
memorable spectacle than was lately exhibited in the public
funeral of that great, illustrious, and no less fortunate man,
Verginius Rufus. He lived thirty years after he had reached the
zenith of his fame. He read poems composed in his honour, he
read histories of his achievements, and was himself witness of his
fame among posterity. He was thrice raised to the dignity of
consul, that he might at least be the highest of subjects, who30 had
refused to be the first of princes. As he escaped the resentment of
those emperors to whom his virtues had given umbrage and even
rendered him odious, and ended his days when this best of princes,
this friend of mankind31 was in quiet possession of the empire, it
seems as if Providence had purposely preserved him to these
times, that he might receive the honour of a public funeral. He
reached his eighty-fourth year, in full tranquillity and universally
revered, having enjoyed strong health during his lifetime, with the
exception of a trembling in his hands, which, however, gave him
no pain. His last illness, indeed, was severe and tedious, but even
that circumstance added to his reputation. As he was practising his
voice with a view of returning his public acknowledgements to the
emperor, who had promoted him to the consulship, a large volume
he had taken into his hand, and which happened to be too heavy
for so old a man to hold standing up, slid from his grasp. In hastily
endeavouring to recover it, his foot slipped on the smooth
pavement, and he fell down and broke his thigh-bone, which being
clumsily set, his age as well being against him, did not properly
unite again. The funeral obsequies paid to the memory of this great
man have done honour to the emperor, to the age, and to the bar.
The consul Cornelius Tacitus32 pronounced his funeral oration
and thus his good fortune was crowned by the public applause of
so eloquent an orator. He has departed from our midst, full of
years, indeed, and of glory; as illustrious by the honours he refused
as by those he accepted. Yet still we shall miss him and lament
him, as the shining model of a past age; I, especially, shall feel his
loss, for I not only admired him as a patriot, but loved him as a
friend. We were of the same province, and of neighbouring towns,
and our estates were also contiguous. Besides these accidental
connections, he was left my guardian, and always treated me with
a parent's affection. Whenever I offered myself as a candidate for
any office in the state, he constantly supported me with his
interest; and although he had long since given up all such services
to friends, he would kindly leave his retirement and conte to give
me his vote in person. On the day on which the priests nominate
those they consider most. worthy of the sacred office33 he
constantly proposed me. Even in his last illness, apprehending the
possibility of the senate's appointing him one of the five
commissioners for reducing the public expenses, he fixed upon
me, young as I am, to bear his excuses, in preference to so many
other friends, elderly men too, and of consular rank and said to me,
"Had I a son of my own, I would entrust you with this matter." And
so I cannot but lament hig death, as though it were premature, and
pour out my grief into your bosom; if indeed one has any right to
grieve, or to call it death at all, which to such a man terminates his
mortality, rather than ends his life. He lives, and will live on for
ever; and his fame will extend and be more celebrated by posterity,
now that he is gone from our sight. I had much else to write to you
but my mind is full of this. I keep thinking of Verginius: I see him
before me: I am for ever fondly yet vividly imagining that I hear
him, am speaking to him, embrace him. There are men amongst
us, his fellow-citizens, perhaps, who may rival him in virtue; but
not one that will ever approach him in glory. Farewell.

XVIII

To NEPOS

THE great fame of Isaeus had already preceded him here; but we
find him even more wonderful than we had heard. He possesses
the utmost readiness, copiousness, and abundance of language: he
always speaks extempore, and his lectures are as finished as
though he had spent a long time over their written composition.
His style is Greek, or rather the genuine Attic. His exordiums are
terse, elegant, attractive, and occasionally impressive and majestic.
He suggests several subjects for discussion, allows his audience
their choice, sometimes to even name which side he shall take,
rises, arranges himself, and begins. At once he has everything
almost equally at command. Recondite meanings of things are
suggested to you, and words--what words they are! exquisitely
chosen and polished. These extempore speeches of his show the
wideness of his reading, and how much practice he has had in
composition. His preface is to the point, his narrative lucid, his
summing up forcible, his rhetorical ornament imposing. In a word,
he teaches, entertains, and affects you; and you are at a loss to
decide which of the three he does best. His reflections are
frequent, his syllogisms also are frequent, condensed, and carefully
finished, a result not easily attainable even with the pen. As for his
memory, you would hardly believe what it is capable of. He
repeats from a long way back what he has previously delivered
extempore, without missing a single word. This marvellous faculty
he has acquired by dint of great application and practice, for night
and day he does nothing, hears nothing, says nothing else. He has
passed his sixtieth year and is still only a rhetorician, and I know
no class of men more single-hearted, more genuine, more excellent
than this class. We who have to go through the rough work of the
bar and of real disputes unavoidably contract a certain
unprincipled adroitness. The school, the lecture-room, the
imaginary case, all this, on the other hand, is perfectly innocent
and harmless, and equally enjoyable, especially to old people, for
what can be happier at that time of life than to enjoy what we
found pleasantest in our young days? I consider Isaeus then, riot
only the most eloquent, but the happiest, of men, and if you are not
longing to make his acquaintance, you must be made of stone and
iron. So, if not upon my account, or for any other reason, come, for
the sake of hearing this man, at least. Have you never read of a
certain inhabitant of Cadiz who was so impressed with the name
and fame of Livy that he came from the remotest corner of the
earth on purpose to see him, and, his curiosity gratified, went
straight home again. It is utter want of taste, shows simple
ignorance, is almost an actual disgrace to a man, not to set any
high value upon a proficiency in so pleasing, noble, refining a
science. "I have authors," you will reply, "here in my own study,
just as eloquent." True: but then those authors you can read at any
time, while you cannot always get the opportunity of hearing
eloquence. Besides, as the proverb says, "The living voice is that
which sways the soul;" yes, far more. For notwithstanding what
one reads is more clearly understood than what one hears, yet the
utterance, countenance, garb, aye and the very gestures of the
speaker, alike concur in fixing an impression upon the mind; that
is, unless we disbelieve the truth of Aeschines' statement, who,
after he had read to the Rhodians that celebrated speech of
Demosthenes, upon their expressing their admiration of it, is said
to have added, "Ah! what would you have said, could you have
heard the wild beast himself ?" And Aeschines, if we may take
Demosthenes' word for it, was no mean elocutionist; yet, he could
not but confess that the speech would have sounded far finer from
the lips of its author. I am saying all this with a view to persuading
you to hear Isaeus, if even for the mere sake of being able to say
you have heard him. Farewell.

XIX

To AVITUS

IT would be a long story, and of no great importance, to tell you by
what accident I found myself dining the other day with an
individual with whom I am by no means intimate, and who, in his
own opinion, does things in good style and economically as well,
but according to mine, with meanness and extravagance combined.
Some very elegant dishes were served up to himself and a few
more of us, whilst those placed before the rest of the company
consisted simply of cheap dishes and scraps. There were, in small
bottles, three different kinds of wine; not that the guest might take
their choice, but that they might not have any option in their
power; one kind being for himself, and for us; another sort for his
lesser friends (for it seems he has degrees of friends), and the third
for his own freedmen and ours. My neighbour,34 reclining next
me, observing this, asked me if I approved the arrangement. Not at
all, I told him. "Pray then," he asked, "what is your method upon
such occasions ?" "Mine," I returned, "is to give all my visitors the
same reception; for when I give an invitation, it is to entertain, not
distinguish, my company: I place every man upon my own level
whom I admit to my table." "Not excepting even your freedmen?"
"Not excepting even my freedmen, whom I consider on these
occasions my guests, as much as any of the rest." He replied, "This
must cost you a great deal." "Not in the least." "How can that be ?"
"Simply because, although my freedmen don't drink the same wine
as myself, yet I drink the same as they do." And, no doubt about it,
if a man is wise enough to moderate his appetite, he will not find it
such a very expensive thing to share with all his visitors what he
takes himself. Restrain it, keep it in, if you wish to be true
economist. You will find temperance a far better way of saving
than treating other people rudely can be. Why do I say all this?
Why, for fear a young man of your high character and promise
should be imposed upon by this immoderate luxury which prevails
at some tables, under the specious notion of frugality. Whenever
any folly of this sort falls under my eye, I shall, just because I care
for you, point it out to you as an example you ought to shun.
Remember, then, nothing is more to be avoided than this modern
alliance of luxury with meanness; odious enough when existing
separate and distinct, but still more hateful where you meet with
them together. Farewell.

XX

To MACRINUS

THE senate decreed yesterday, on the emperor's motion, a
triumphal statue to Vestricius Spurinna: not as they would to many
others, who never were in action, or saw a camp, or heard the
sound of a trumpet, unless at a show; but as it would be decreed to
those who have justly bought such a distinction with their blood,
their exertions, and their deeds. Spurinna forcibly restored the king
of the Bructeri35 to his throne; and this by the noblest kind of
victory; for he subdued that warlike people by the terror of the
mere display of his preparation for the campaign. This is his
reward as a hero, while, to console him for the loss of his son
Cottius, who died during his absence upon that expedition, they
also voted a statue to the youth; a very unusual - honour for one so
young; but the services of the father deserved that the pain of so
severe a wound should be soothed by no common balm. Indeed
Cottius himself evinced such remarkable promise of the highest
qualities that it is but fitting his short limited term of life should be
extended, as it were, by this kind of immortality. He was so pure
and blameless, so full of dignity, and commanded such respect,
that he might have challenged in moral goodness much older men,
with whom he now shares equal honours. Honours, if I am not
mistaken, conferred not only to perpetuate the memory of the
deceased youth, and in consolation to the surviving father, but for
the sake of public example also. This will rouse and stimulate our
young men to cultivate every worthy principle, when they see such
rewards bestowed upon one of their own years, provided he
deserve them: at the same time that men of quality will be
encouraged to beget children and to have the joy and satisfaction
of leaving a worthy race behind, if their children survive them, or
of so glorious a consolation, should they survive their children.
Looking at it in this light then, I am glad, upon public grounds, that
a statue is decreed Cottius: and for my own sake too, just as much;
for I loved this most favoured, gifted, youth, as ardently as I now
grievously miss him amongst us. So that it will be a great
satisfaction to me to be able to look at this figure from time to
time as I pass by, contemplate it, stand underneath, and walk to
and I ro before it. For if having the pictures of the departed placed
in our homes lightens sorrow, how much more those public
representations of them which are not only memorials of their air
and countenance, but of their glory and honour besides? Farewell.

XXI:

To PAISCUS

As I know you eagerly embrace every opportunity of obliging me,
so there is no man whom I had rather be under an obligation to. I
apply to you, therefore, in preference to anyone else, for a favour
which I am extremely desirous of obtaining. You, who are
commander-in-chief of a very considerable army, have many
opportunities of exercising your generosity; and the length of time
you have enjoyed that post must have enabled you to provide for
all your own friends. I hope you will now turn your eyes upon
some of mine: as indeed they are but a few Your generous
disposition, I know, would be better pleased if the number were
greater, but one or two will suffice my modest desires; at present I
will only mention Voconius Romanus. His father was of great
distinction among the Roman knights, and his father-in-law, or, I
might more properly call him, his second father, (for his
affectionate treatment of Voconius entitles him to that appellation)
was still more conspicuous. His mother was one of the most
considerable ladies of Upper Spain: you know what character the
people of that province bear, and how remarkable they are for their
strictness of their manners. As for himself, he lately held the post
of flamen.36 Now, from the time when we were first students
together, I have felt very tenderly attached to him. We lived under
the same roof, in town and country, we joked together, we shared
each other's serious thoughts: for where indeed could I have found
a truer friend or pleasanter companion than he? In his
conversation, and even in his very voice and countenance, there is
a rare sweetness; as at the bar he displays talents of a high order;
acuteness, elegance, ease, and skill: and he writes such letters too
that were you to read them you would imagine they had been
dictated by the Muses themselves. I have a very great affection for
him, as he has for me. Even in the earlier part of our lives, I
warmly embraced every opportunity of doing him all the good
services which then lay in my power, as I have lately obtained for
him from our most gracious prince37 the privilege38 granted to
those who have three children: a favour which, though Caesar very
rarely bestows, and always with great caution, yet he conferred, at
my request, in such a matter as to give it the air and grace of being
his own choice.

The best way of showing that I think he deserves the kindnesses he
has already received from me is by increasing them, especially as
he always accepts my services so gratefully as to deserve more.
Thus I have shown you what manner of man Romanus is, how
thoroughly I have proved his worth, and how much I love him. Let
me entreat you to honour him with your patronage in a way
suitable to the generosity of your heart, and the eminence of your
station. But above all let him have your affection; for though you
were to confer upon him the utmost you have in your power to
bestow, you can give him nothing more valuable than your
friendship-That you may see he is worthy of it, even to the closest
degree of intimacy, I send you this brief sketch of his tastes,
character, his whole life, in fact. I should continue my
intercessions in his behalf, but that I know you prefer not being
pressed, and I have already repeated them in every line of this
letter: for, to show a good reason for what one asks is true
intercession, and of the most effectual kind. Farewell.

XXII

To MAIMUS

You guessed correctly: I am much engaged in pleading before the
Hundred. The business there is more fatiguing than pleasant.
Trifling, inconsiderable cases, mostly; it is very seldom that
anything worth speaking of, either from the importance of the
question or the rank of the persons concerned, comes before them.
There are very few lawyers either whom I take any pleasure in
working with. The rest, a parcel of impudent young fellows, many
of whom one knows nothing whatever about, come here to get
some practice in speaking, and conduct themselves so forwardly
and with such utter want of deference that my friend Attilius
exactly hit it, I think, when he made the observation that "boys set
out at the bar with cases in the Court of the Hundred as they do at
school with Homer," intimating that at both places they begin
where they should end. But in former times (so my elders tell me)
no youth, even of the best families, was allowed in unless
introduced by some person of consular dignity. As things are now,
since every fence of modesty and decorum is broken down, and all
distinctions are levelled and confounded, the present young
generation, so far from waiting to be introduced, break in of their
own free will. The audience at their heels are fit attendants upon
such orators; a low rabble of hired mercenaries, supplied by
contract. They get together in the middle of the court, where the
dole is dealt round to them as openly as if they were in a
dining-room: and at this noble price they run from court to court.
The Greeks have an appropriate name in their language for this
sort of people, importing that they are applauders by profession,
and we stigmatize them with the opprobrious title of
table-flatterers: yet the dirty business alluded to increases every
day. It was only yesterday two of my domestic officers, mere
striplings, were hired to cheer somebody or other, at three denarii
apiece :39 that is what the highest eloquence goes for. Upon these
terms we fill as many benches as we please, and gather a crowd;
this is how those rending shouts are raised, as soon as the
individual standing up in the middle of the ring gives the signal.
For, you must know, these honest fellows, who understand nothing
of what is said, or, if they did, could not hear it, would be at a loss
without a signal, how to time their applause: for many of them
don't hear a syllable, and are as noisy as any of the rest. If, at any
time, you should happen to be passing by when the court is sitting,
and feel at all interested to know how any speaker is acquitting
himself, you have no occasion to give yourself the trouble of
getting up on the judge's platform, no need to listen; it is easy
enough to find out, for you may be quite sure he that gets most
applause deserves it the least. Largius Licinus was the first to
introduce this fashion; but then he went no farther than to go round
and solicit an audience. I know, I remember hearing this from my
tutor Quinctilian. "I used," he told me, "to go and hear Domitius
Afer, and as he was pleading once before the Hundred in his usual
slow and impressive manner, hearing, close to him, a most
immoderate and unusual noise, and being a good deal surprised at
this, he left off: the noise ceased, and he began again: he was
interrupted a second time, and a third. At last he enquired who it
was that was speaking? He was told, Licinus. Upon which, he
broke off the case, exclaiming, 'Eloquence is no more!'" The truth
is it had only begun to decline then, when in Afer's opinion it no
longer existed: - whereas now it is almost extinct. I am ashamed to
tell you of the mincing and affected pronunciation of the speakers,
and of the shrill-voiced applause with which their effusions are
received; nothing seems wanting to complete this sing-song
performance except claps, or rather cymbals and tambourines.
Howlings indeed (for I can call such applause, which would be
indecent even in the theatre, by no other name) abound in plenty.
Up to this time the interest of my friends and the consideration of
my early time of life have kept me in this court, as I am afraid they
might think I was doing it to shirk work rather than to avoid these
indecencies, were I to leave it just yet: however, I go there less
frequently than I did, and am thus effecting a gradual retreat.
Farewell.

XXIII

To GALLUS

You are surprised that I am so fond of my Laurentine, or (if you
prefer the name) my Laurens: but you will cease to wonder when I
acquaint you with the beauty of the villa, the advantages of its
situation, and the extensive view of the sea-coast. It is only
seventeen miles from Rome: so that when I have finished my
business in town, I can pass my evenings here after a good
satisfactory day's work. There are two different roads to it: if you
go by that of Laurentum, you must turn off at the fourteenth
mile-stone; if by Astia, at the eleventh. Both of them are sandy in
places, which makes it a little heavier and longer by carriage, but
short and easy on horseback. The landscape affords plenty of
variety, the view in some places being closed in by woods, in
others extending over broad meadows, where numerous flocks of
sheep and herds of cattle, which the severity of the winter has
driven from the mountains, fatten in the spring warmth, and on the
rich pasturage. My villa is of a convenient size without being
expensive to keep up. The courtyard in front is plain, but not
mean, through which you enter porticoes shaped into the form of
the letter D, enclosing a small but cheerful area between. These
make a capital retreat for bad weather, not only as they are shut in
with windows, but particularly as they are sheltered by a projection
of the roof. From the middle of these porticoes you pass into a
bright pleasant inner court, and out of that into a handsome hall
running out towards the sea-shore; so that when there is a
south-west breeze, it is gently washed with the waves, which spend
themselves at its base. On every side of this hall there are either
folding-doors or windows equally large, by which means you have
a view from the front and the two sides of three different seas, as it
were: from the back you see the middle court, the portico, and the
area; and from another point you look through the portico into the
courtyard, and out upon the woods and distant mountains beyond.
On the left hand of this hail, a little farther from the sea, lies a
large drawing-room, and beyond that,a second of a smaller
size,which has one window to the rising and another to the setting
sun: this as well has a view of the sea, but more distant and
agreeable. The angle formed by the projection of the dining-room
with this drawing-room retains and intensifies the warmth of the
sun, and this forms our winter quarters and family gymnasium,
which is sheltered from all the winds except those which bring on
clouds, but the clear sky comes out again before the warmth has
gone out of the place. Adjoining this angle is a room forming the
segment of a circle, the windows of which are so arranged as to get
the sun all through the day: in the walls are contrived a sort of
cases, containing a collection of authors who can never be read too
often. Next to this is a bed-room, connected with it by a raised
passage furnished with pipes, which supply, at a wholesome
temperature, and distribute to all parts of this room, the heat they
receive. The rest of this side of the house is appropriated to the use
of my slaves and freedmen; but most of the rooms in it are
respectable enough to put my guests into. In the opposite wing is a
most elegant, tastefully fitted up bed-room; next to which lies
another, which you may call either a large bed-room or a modified
dining-room; it is very warm and light, not only from the direct
rays of the sun, but by their reflection from the sea. Beyond this is
a bed-room with an ante-room, the height of which renders it cool
in summer, its thick walls warm in winter, for it is sheltered, every
way from the winds. To this apartment another anteroom is joined
by one common wall. From thence you enter into the wide and
spacious cooling-room belonging to the bath, from the opposite
walls of which two curved basins are thrown out, so to speak;
which are more than large enough if you consider that the sea is
close at hand. Adjacent to this is the anointing-room, then the
sweating-room, and beyon„ that the bath-heating room: adjoining
are two other little bath-rooms, elegantly rather than sumptuously
fitted up: annexed to them is a warm bath of wonderful
construction, in which one can swim and take a view of the sea at
the same time. Not far from this stands the tennis-court, which lies
open to the warmth of the afternoon sun. From thence you go up a
sort of turret which has two rooms below, with the same number
above, besides a dining-room commanding a very extensive
look-out on to the sea, the coast, and the beautiful villas scattered
along the shore line. At the other end is a second turret, containing
a room that gets the rising and setting sun. Behind this is a large
store-room and granary, and underneath, a spacious dining-room,
where only the murmur and break of the sea can be heard, even in
a storm: it looks out upon the garden, and the gestatio,40 running
round the garden. The gestatio is bordered round with box, and,
where that is decayed, with rosemary: for the box, wherever
sheltered by the buildings, grows plentifully, but where it lies open
and exposed to the weather and spray from the sea, though at some
distance from the latter, it quite withers up. Next the gestatio, and
running along inside it, is a shady vineplantation, the path of which
is so soft and easy to the tread that you may walk bare-foot upon it.
The garden is chiefly planted with fig and mulberry trees, to which
this soil is as favourable as it is averse from all others. Here is a
dining-room, which, though it stands away from the sea enjoys the
garden view which is just as pleasant: two apartments run round
the back part of it, the windows of which look out upon the
entrance of the villa, and into a fine kitchen-garden. From here
extends an enclosed portico which, from its great length, you
might take for a public one. It has a range of windows on either
side, but more on the side facing the sea, and fewer on the garden
side, and these, single windows and alternate with the opposite
rows. In calm, clear, weather these are all thrown open; hut if it
blows, those on the weather side are closed, whilst those away
from the wind can remain open without any inconvenience. Before
this enclosed portico lies a terrace fragrant with the scent of
violets, and warmed by the reflection of the sun from the portico,
which, while it retains the rays, keeps away the north-east wind;
and it is as warm on this side as it is cool on the side opposite: in
the same way it is a protection against the wind from the
south-west; and thus, in short, by means of its several sides, breaks
the force of the winds, from whatever quarter they may blow.
These are some of its winter advantages, they are still more
appreciable in the summer time; for at that season it throws a
shade upon the terrace during the whole of the forenoon, and upon
the adjoining portion of the gestatio and garden in the afternoon,
casting a greater or less shade on this side or on that as the day
increases or decreases. But the portico itself is coolest just at the
time when the sun is at its hottest, that is, when the rays fall
directly upon the roof. Also, by opening the windows you let in the
western breezes in a free current, which prevents the place getting
oppressive with close and stagnant air. At the upper end of the
terrace and portico stands a detached garden building, which I call
my favourite; my favourite indeed, as I put it up myself. It contains
a very warm winter-room, one side of which looks down upon the
terrace, while the other has a view of the sea, and both lie exposed
to the sun. The bed-room opens on to the covered portico by
means of folding-doors, while its window looks out upon the sea.
On that side next the sea, and facing the middle wall, is formed a
very elegant little recess, which, by means of transparent41
windows, and a curtain drawn to or aside,can be made part of the
adjoining room, or separated from it. It contains a couch and two
chairs: as you lie upon this couch, from where your feet are you get
a peep of the sea; looking behind you see the neighbouring villas,
and from the head you have a view of the woods: these three views
may be seen either separately, from so many different windows, or
blended together in one. Adjoining this is a bed-room, which
neither the servants' voices, the murmuring of the sea, the glare of
lightning, nor daylight itself can penetrate, unless you open the
windows. This profound tranquillity and seclusion are occasioned
by a passage separating the wall of this room from that of the
garden, and thus, by means of this intervening space, every noise is
drowned. Annexed to this is a tiny stove-room, which, by opening
or shutting a little aperture, lets out or retains the heat from
underneath, according as you require. Beyond this lie a bed-room
and ante-room, which enjoy the sun, though obliquely indeed,
from the time it rises, till the afternoon. When I retire to this
garden summer-house, I fancy myself a hundred miles away from
my villa, and take especial pleasure in it at the feast of the
Saturnalia,42 when, by the licence of that festive season, every
other part of my house resounds with my servants' mirth: thus I
neither interrupt their amusement nor they my studies. Amongst
the pleasures z,nd conycnienccs of this situation, there is one
drawback, and that is, the want of running water; but then there are
wells about the place, or rather springs, for they lie close to the
surface. And, altogether, the quality of this coast is remarkable; for
dig where you may, you meet, upon the first turning up of the
ground, with a spring of water, quite pure, not in the least salt,
although so near the sea. The neighbouring woods supply us with
all the fuel we require, the other necessaries Ostia furnishes.
Indeed, to a moderate ~ man, even the village (between which and
my house there is only one villa) would supply all ordinary
requirements. It has three public baths, which are a great
convenience if it happen that friends come in unexpectedly, or
make too short a stay to allow time in preparing my own. The
whole coast is very pleasantly sprinkled with villas either in rows
or detached, which whether looking at them from the sea or the
shore, present the appearance of so many different cities. The
strand is, sometimes, after a long calm, perfectly smooth, though,
in general,through the storms driving the waves upon it, it is rough
and uneven. I cannot boast that our sea is plentiful in choice fish;
however, it supplies us with capital soles and prawns; but as to
other kinds of provisions, my villa aspires to excel even inland
countries, particularly in milk: for the cattle come up there from
the meadows in large numbers, in pursuit of water and shade. Tell
me, now, have I not good reason for living in, staying in, loving,
such a retreat, which, if you feel no appetite for, you must be
morbidly attached to town? And I only wish you would feel
inclined to come down to it, that to so many charms with which
my little villa abounds, it might have the very considerable
addition of your company to recommend it. Farewell.

XXIV

To CEREALIS

You advise me to read my late speech before an assemblage of my
friends. I shall do so, as you advise it, though I have strong
scruples. Compositions of this sort lose, I well know, all their force
and fire, and even their very name almost, by a mere recital. It is
the solemnity of the tribunal, the concourse of advocates, the
suspense of the event, the fame of the several pleaders concerned,
the different parties formed amongst the audience; add to this the
gestures, the pacing, aye the actual running, to and fro, of the
speaker, the body working43 in harmony with every inward
emotion, that conspire to give a spirit and a grace to what he
delivers. This is the reason that those who plead sitting, though
they retain most of the advantages possessed by those who stand
up to plead, weaken the whole force of their oratory. The eyes and
hands of the reader, those important instruments of graceful
elocution, being engaged, it is no wonder that the attention of the
audience droops, without anything extrinsic to keep it up, no
allurernents of gesture to attract, no smart, stinging impromptus to
enliven. To these general considerations I must add this particular
disadvantage which attends the speech in question, that it is of the
argumentative kind; and it is natural for an author to infer that
what he wrote with labour will not be read with pleasure. For who
is there so unprejudiced as not to prefer the attractive and sonorous
to the sombre and unornamented in style? It is very unreasonable
that there should be any distinction; however, it is certain the
judges generally expect one style of pleading, and the audience
another; whereas an auditor ought to be affected only by those
parts which would especially strike him, were he in the place of
the judge. Nevertheless it is possible the objections which lie
against this piece may be surmounted in consideration of the
novelty it has to recommend it: the novelty I mean with respect to
us; for the Greek orators have a method of reasoning upon a
different occasion, not altogether unlike that which I have
employed. They, when they would throw out a law, as contrary to
some former one unrepealed, argue by comparing those together;
so I, on the contrary, endeavour to prove that the crime, which I
was insisting upon as falling within the intent and meaning of the
law relating to public extortions, was agreeable, not only to that
law, but likewise to other laws of the same nature. Those who are
ignorant of the jurisprudence of their country can have no taste for
reasonings of this kind, but those who are not ought to be
proportionably the more favourable in the judgments they pass
upon them. I shall endeavour, therefore, if you persist in my
reciting it, to collect as learned an audience as I can. But before
you determine this point, do weigh impartially the different
considerations I have laid before you, and then decide as reason
shall direct; for it is reason that must justify you; obedience to your
commands will be a sufficient apology for me. Farewell.

XXV

To CALVISIUS

GIVE me a penny, and I will tell you a story "worth gold," or,
rather, you shall hear two or three; for one brings to my mind
another. It makes no difference with which I begin. Verania, the
widow of Piso, the Piso, I mean, whom Galba adopted, lay
extremely ill, and Regulus paid her a visit. By the way, mark the
assurance of the man, visiting a lady who detested him herself, and
to whose husband he was a declared enemy! Even barely to enter
her house would have been bad enough, but he actually went and
seated himself by her bed-side and began enquiring on what day
and hour she was born. Being informed of these important
particulars, he composes his countenance, fixes his eyes, mutters
something to himself, counts upon his fingers, and all this merely
to keep the poor sick lady in suspense. When he had finished,
"You are," he says, "in one of your climacterics; however, you will
get over it. But for your greater satisfaction, I will consult with a
certain diviner, whose skill I have frequently experienced."
Accordingly off he goes, performs a sacrifice, and returns with the
strongest assurances that the omens confirmed what he had
promised on the part of the stars. Upon this the good woman,
whose danger made her credulous, calls for her will and gives
Regulus a legacy. She grew worse shortly after this; and in her last
moments exclaimed against this wicked, treacherous, and worse
than perjured wretch, who had sworn falsely to her by his own
son's life. But imprecations of this sort are as common with
Regulus as they are impious; and he continually devotes that
unhappy youth to the curse of those gods whose vengeance his
own frauds every day provoke.

Velleius Blaesus, a man of consular rank, and remarkable for his
immense wealth, in his last illness was anxious to make some
alterations in his will. Regulus, who had lately endeavoured to
insinuate himself into his good graces, hoped to get something
from the new will, and accordingly addresses himself to his
physicians, and conjures them to exert all their skill to prolong the
poor man's life. But after the will was signed, he changes his
character, reversing his tone: "How long," says he to these very
same physicians, "do you intend keeping this man in misery? Since
you cannot preserve his life, why do you grudge him the happy
release of death ?" Blaesus dies, and, as if he had overheard every
word that Regulus had said, has not left him one farthing.--And
now have you had enough? or are you for the third, according to
rhetorical canon? If so, Regulus will supply you. You must know,
then, that Aurelia, a lady of remarkable accomplishments,
purposing to execute her will,44 had put on her smartest dress for
the occasion. Regulus, who was present as a witness, turned to the
lady, and "Pray," says he, "leave me these fine clothes." Aurelia
thought the man was joking: but he insisted upon it perfectly
seriously, and, to be brief, obliged her to open her will, and insert
the dress she had on as a legacy to him, watching as she wrote, and
then looking over it to see that it was all down correctly. Aurelia,
however, is still alive: though Regulus, no doubt, when he solicited
this bequest, expected to enjoy it pretty soon. The fellow gets
estates, he gets legacies, conferred upon him, as if he really
deserved them! But why should I go on dwelling upon this in a city
where wickedness and knavery have, for this time past, received,
the same, do I say, nay, even greater encouragement, than modesty
and virtue? Regulus is a glaring instance of this truth, who, from a
state of poverty, has by a train of villainies acquired such immense
riches that he once told me, upon consulting the omens to know
how soon he should be worth sixty millions of sesterces,45 he
found them so favourable as to portend he should possess double
that sum. And possibly he may, if he continues to dictate wills for
other people in this way: a sort of fraud, in my opinion, the most
infamous of any. Farewell.

XXVI

To CALVISIUS

I NEVER, I think, spent any time more agreeably than my time
lately with Spurinna. So agreeably, indeed, that if ever I should
arrive at old age, there is no man whom I would sooner choose for
my model, for nothing can be more perfect in arrangement than his
mode of life. I look upon order in human actions, especially at that
advanced age, with the same sort of pleasure as I behold the settled
course of the heavenly bodies. In young men, indeed, a little
confusion and disarrangement is all well enough: but in age, when
business is unseasonable, and ambition indecent, all should be
composed and uniform. This rule Spurinna observes with the most
religious consistency. Even in those matters which one might call
insignificant, were they not of every-day occurrence, he observes a
certain periodical season and method. The early morning he passes
on his couch; at eight he calls for his slippers, and walks three
miles, exercising mind and body together. On his return, if he has
any friends in the house with him, he gets upon some entertaining
and interesting topic of conversation; if by himself, some book is
read to him, sometimes when visitors are there even, if agreeable
to the company. Then he has a rest, and after that either takes up a
book or resumes his conversation in preference to reading.
By-and-by he goes out for a drive in his carriage, either with his
wife, a most admirable woman, or with some friend: a happiness
which lately was mine.--How agreeable, how delightf~il it is
getting a quiet time alone with him in this way! You could imagine
you were listening to some worthy of ancient times! What deeds,
what men you hear about, and with what noble precepts you are
imbued! Yet all delivered with so modest an air that there is not
the least appearance of dictating. When be has gone about seven
miles, he gets out of his chariot and walks a mile more, after
which he returns home, and either takes a rest or goes back to his
couch and writing. For he composes most elegant lyrics both in
Greek and Latin. So wonderfully soft, sweet, and gay they are,
while the author's own unsullied life lends them additional charm.
When the baths are ready, which in winter is about three o'clock,
and in summer about two, he undresses himself and, if their
happen to be no wind, walks for some time in the sun. After this he
has a good brisk game of tennis: for by this sort of exercise too, he
combats the effects of old age. When he has bathed, he throws
himself upon his couch, but waits a little before he begins eating,
and in the meanwhile has some light and entertaining author read
to him. In this, as in all the rest, his friends are at full liberty to
share; or to employ themselves in any other way, just as they
prefer. You sit down to an elegant dinner, without extravagant
display, which is served up in antique plate of pure silver. He has
another complete service in Corinthian metal, which, though he
admires as a curiosity, is far from being his passion. During dinner
he is frequently entertained with the recital of some dramatic
piece, by way of seasoning his very pleasures with study; and
although he continues at the table, even in summer, till the night is
somewhat advanced, yet he prolongs the entertainment with so
much affability and politeness that none of his guests ever finds it
tedious. By this method of living he has preserved all his senses
entire, and his body vigorous and active to his seventy-eighth year,
without showing any sign of old age except wisdom. This is the
sort of life I ardently aspire after; as I purpose enjoying it when I
shall arrive at those years which will justify a retreat from active
life. Meanwhile I am embarrassed with a thousand affairs, in
which Spurinna is at once my support and my example: for he too,
so long as it became him, discharged his professional duties, held
magistracies, governed provinces, and by toiling hard earned the
repose he now enjoys. I propose to myself the same career and the
same limits: and I here give it to you under my hand that I do so. If
an ill-timed ambition should carry me beyond those bounds,
produce this very letter of mine in court against me; and condemn
me to repose, whenever I enjoy it without being reproached with
indolence. Farewell.

XXVII

To BAEBIUS MACER

IT gives me great pleasure to find you such a reader of my uncle's
works as to wish to have a complete collection of them, and to ask
me for the names of them all. I will act as index then, and you
shall know the very order in which they were written, for the
studious reader likes to know this. The first work of his was a
treatise in one volume, "On the Use of the Dart by Cavalry"; this
he wrote when in command of one of the cavalry corps of our
allied troops, and is drawn up with great care and ingenuity. "The
Life of Pomponius Secundus,"46 in two volumes. Pomponius had
a great affection for him, and he thought he owed this tribute to his
memory. "The History of the Wars in Germany," in twenty books,
in which he gave an account of all the battles we were engaged in
against that nation. A dream he had while serving in the army in
Germany first suggested the design of this work to him. He
imagined that Drusus Nero47 (who extended his conquest very far
into that country, and there lost his life) appeared to him in his
sleep, and entreated him to rescue his memory from oblivion. Next
comes a work entitled "The Student," in three parts, which from
their length spread into six volumes: a work in which is discussed
the earliest training and subsequent education of the orator.
"Questions of Grammar and Style," in eight books, written in the
latter part of Nero's reign, when the tyranny of the times made it
dangerous to engage in literary pursuits requiring freedom and
elevation of tone. He has completed the history which Aufidius
Bassus48 left unfinished, and has added to it thirty books. And
lastly he has left thirty-seven books on Natural History, a work of
great compass and learning, and as full of variety as nature herself.
You will wonder how a man as busy as he was could find time to
compose so many books, and some of them too involving such
care and labour. But you will be still more surprised when you
hear that he pleaded at the bar for some time, that he died in his
sixty-sixth year, that the intervening time was employed partly in
the execution of the highest official duties, partly in attendance
upon those emperors who honoured him with their friendship. But
he had a quick apprehension, marvellous power of application, and
was of an exceedingly wakeful temperament. He always began to
study at midnight at the time of the feast of Vulcan, not for the
sake of good luck, but for learning's sake; in winter generally at
one in the morning, but never later than two, and often at
twelve.49 He was a most ready sleeper, insomuch that he would
sometimes, whilst in the midst of his studies, fall off and then
wake up again. Before day-break he used to wait upon Vespasian'
(who also used his nights for transacting business in), and then
proceed to execute the orders he had received. As soon as
hereturnedhome, he gave what time was left to study. After a short
and light refreshment at noon (agreeably to the good old custom of
our ancestors) he would frequently in the summer, if he was
disengaged from business, lie down and bask in the sun; during
which time some author was read to him, while he took notes and
made extracts, for every book he read he made extracts out of,
indeed it was a maxim of his, that "no book was so bad but some
good might be got out of it." When this was over, he generally took
a cold bath, then some light refreshment and a little nap. After this,
as if it had been a new day, he studied till supper-time, when a
book was again read to him, which he would take down running
notes upon. I remember once his reader having mis-pronounced a
word, one of my uncle's friends at the table made him go back to
where the word was and repeat it again; upon which my uncle said
to his friend, "Surely you understood it?" Upon his acknowledging
that he did, "Why then," said he, "did you make him go back
again? We have lost more than ten lines by this interruption." Such
an economist he was of time! In the summer he used to rise from
supper at daylight, and in winter as soon as it was dark: a rule he
observed as strictly as if it had been a law of the state. Such was
his manner of life amid the bustle and turmoil of the town: but in
the country his whole time was devoted to study, excepting only
when he bathed. In this exception I include no more than the time
during which he was actually in the bath; for all the while he was
being rubbed and wiped, he was employed either in hearing some
book read to him or in dictating himself. In going about anywhere,
as though he were disengaged from all other business, he applied
his mind wholly to that single pursuit. A shorthand writer
constantly attended him, with book and tablets, who, in the winter,
wore a particular sort of warm gloves, that the sharpness of the
weather might not occasion any interruption to my uncle's studies:
and for the same reason, when in Rome, he was always carried in a
chair. I recollect his once taking me to task for walking. "You need
not," he said, "lose these hours." For he thought every hour gone
that was not given to study. Through this extraordinary application
he found time to compose the several treatises I have mentioned,
besides one hundred and sixty volumes of extracts which he left
me in his will, consisting of a kind of common-place, written on
both sides, in very small hand, so that one might fairly reckon the
number considerably more. He used himself to tell us that when he
was comptroller of the revenue in Spain, he could have sold these
manuscripts to Largius Licinus for four hundred thousand
sesterces,50 and then there were not so many of them. When you
consider the books he has read, and the volumes he has written, are
you not inclined to suspect that he never was engaged in public
duties or was ever in the confidence of his prince? On the other
hand, when you are told how indefatigable he was in his studies,
are you not inclined to wonder that he read and wrote no more
than he did? For, on one side, what obstacles would not the
business of a court throw in his way? and on the other, what is it
that such intense application might not effect? It amuses me then
when I hear myself called a studious man, who in comparison with
him am the merest idler. But why do I mention myself, who am
diverted from these pursuits by numberless affairs both public and
private? Who amongst those whose whole lives are devoted to
literary pursuits would not blush and feel himself the most
confirmed of sluggards by the side of him? I see I have run out my
letter farther than I had originally intended, which was only to let
you know, as you asked me, what works he had left behind him.
But I trust this will be no less acceptable to you than the books
themselves, as it may, possibly, not only excite your curiosity to
read his works, but also your emulation to copy his example, by
some attempts of a similar nature. Farewell.

XXVIII

To ANNIUS SEVERUS

I HAVE lately purchased with a legacy that was left me a small
statue of Corinthian brass. It is small indeed, but elegant and
life-like, as far as I can form any judgment, which most certainly
in matters of this sort, as perhaps in all others, is extremely
defective. However, I do see the beauties of this figure: for, as it is
naked the faults, if there be any, as well as the perfections, are the
more observable. It represents an old man, in an erect attitude. The
bones, muscles, veins, and the very wrinkles, give the Impression
of breathing life. The hair is thin and failing, the forehead broad,
the face shrivelled, the throat lank, the arms loose and hanging, the
breast shrunken, and the belly fallen in, as the whole turn and air
of the figure behind too is equally expressive of old age. It appears
to be true antique, judging from the colour of the brass. In short, it
is such a masterpiece as would strike the eyes of a connoisseur,
and which cannot fail to charm an ordinary observer: and this
induced me, who am an absolute novice in this art, to buy it. But I
did so, not with any intention of placing it in my own house (for I
have nothing of the kind there), but with a design of fixing it in
some conspicuous place in my native province; I should like it best
in the temple of Jupiter, for it is a gift well worthy of a temple,
well worthy of a god. I desire therefore you would, with that care
with which you always perform my requests, undertake this
commission and give immediate orders for a pedestal to be made
for it, out of what marble you please, but let my name be engraved
upon it, and, if you think proper to add these as well, my titles. I
will send the statue by the first person I can find who will not mind
the trouble of it; or possibly (which I am sure you will like better) I
may myself bring it along with me: for I intend, if business can
spare me that is to say, to make an excursion over to you. I see joy
in your looks when I promise to come; but you will soon change
your countenance when I add, only for a few days: for the same
business that at present keeps me here will prevent my making a
longer stay. Farewell.

XXIX

To CANINIUS RUFUS

I HAVE just been informed that Silius Italicus51 has starved
himself to death, at his villa near Naples. Ill-health was the cause.
Being troubled with an incurable cancerous humour, he grew
weary of life and therefore put an end to it with a determination
not to be moved. He had been extremely fortunate all through his
life with the exception of the death of the younger of his two sons;
however, he has left behind him the elder and the worthier man of
the two in a position of distinction, having even attained consular
rank. His reputation had suffered a little in Nero's time, as he was
suspected of having officiously joined in some of the informations
in that reign; but he used his interest with Vitellius, with great
discretion and humanity. He acquired considerable honour by his
administration of the government of Asia, and, by his good
conduct after his retirement from business, cleared his character
from that stain which his former public exertions had thrown upon
it. He lived as a private nobleman, without power, and
consequently without envy. Though he was frequently confined to
his bed, and always to his room, yet he was highly respected, and
much visited; not with an interested view, but on his own account.
He employed his time between conversing with literary men and
composing verses; which he sometimes read out, by way of testing
the public opinion: but they evidence more industry than genius. In
the decline of his years he entirely quitted Rome, and lived
altogether in Campania, from whence even the accession of the
new emperor52 could not draw him. A circumstance which I
mention as much to the honour of Caesar, who was not displeased
with that liberty, as of Italicus, who was not afraid to make use of
it. He was reproached with indulging his taste for the fine arts at an
immoderate expense. He had several villas in the same province,
and the last purchase was always the especial favourite, to the
neglect of all the rest, These residences overflowed with books,
statues, and pictures, which he more than enjoyed, he even adored;
particularly that of Virgil, of whom he was so passionate an
admirer that he celebrated the anniversary of that poet's birthday
with more solemnity than his own, at Naples especially where he
used to approach his tomb as if it had been a temple. In this
tranquillity he passed his seventyfifth year, with a delicate rather
than an infirm constitution.

As he was the last person upon whom Nero conferred the consular
office, so he was the last survivor of all those who had been raised
by him to that dignity. It is also remarkable that, as he was the last
to die of Nero's consuls, so Nero died when he was consul.
Recollecting this, a feeling of pity for the transitory condition of
mankind comes over me. Is there anything in nature so short and
limited as human life, even at its longest? Does it not seem to you
but yesterday that Nero was alive? And yet not one of all those
who were consuls in his reign now remains! Though why should I
wonder at this? Lucius Piso (the father of that Piso who was so
infamously assassinated by Valerius Festus in Africa) used to say,
he did not see one person in the senate whose opinion he had
consulted when he was consul: in so short a space is the very term
of life of such a multitude of beings comprised! so that to me those
royal tears seem not only worthy of pardon but of praise. For it is
said that Xerxes, on surveying his immense army, wept at the
reflection that so many thousand lives would in such a short space
of time be extinct. The more ardent therefore should be our zeal to
lengthen out this frail and transient portion of existence, if not by
our deeds (for the opportunities of this are not in our power) yet
certainly by our literary accomplishments; and since long life is
denied us, let us transmit to posterity some memorial that we have
at least LIVED. I well know you need no incitements, but the
warmth of my affection for you inclines me to urge you on in the
course you are already pursuing, just as you have so often urged
me. "Happy rivalry" when two friends strive in this way which of
them shall animate the other most in their mutual pursuit of
immortal fame. Farewell.

XXX

To SPURINNA AND COTTIA53

I DID not tell you, when I paid you my last visit, that I had
composed something in praise of your son; because, in the first
place, I wrote it not for the sake of talking about my performance,
but simply to satisfy my affection, to console my sorrow for the
loss of him. Again, as you told me, my dear Spurinna, that you had
heard I had been reciting a piece of mine, I imagined you had also
heard at the same time what was the subject of the recital, and
besides I was afraid of casting a gloom over your cheerfulness in
that festive season, by reviving the remembrance of that heavy
sorrow. And even now I have hesitated a little whether I should
gratify you both, in your joint request, by sending only what I
recited, or add to it what I am thinking of keeping back for another
essay. It does not satisfy my feelings to devote only one little tract
to a memory so dear and sacred to me, and it seemed also more to
the interest of his fame to have it thus disseminated by separate
pieces. But the consideration, that it will be more open and
friendly to send you the whole now, rather than keep back some of
it to another time, has determined me to do the former, especially
as I have your promise that it shall not be communicated by either
of you to anyone else, until I shall think proper to publish it. The
only remaining favour I ask is, that you will give me a proof of the
same unreserve by pointing out to me what you shall judge would
be best altered, omitted, or added. It is difficult for a mind in
affliction to concentrate itself upon such little cares. However, as
you would direct a painter or sculptor who was representing the
figure of your son what parts he should retouch or express, so I
hope you will guide and inform my hand in this more durable or
(as you are pleased to think it) this immortal likeness which I am
endeavouring to execute: for the truer to the original, the more
perfect and finished it is, so much the more lasting it is likely to
prove. Farewell.

XXXI

To JULIUS GENIT0R

IT is just like the generous disposition of Artemidorus to magnify
the kindnesses of his friends; hence he praises my deserts (though
he is really indebted to me) beyond their due. It is true indeed that
when the philosophers were expelled from Rome,54  I visited him
at his house near the city, and ran the greater risk in paying him
that civility, as it was more noticeable then, I being praetor at the
time. I supplied him too with a considerable sum to pay certain
debts he had contracted upon very honourable occasions, without
charging interest, though obliged to borrow the money myself,
while the rest of his rich powerful friends stood by hesitating about
giving him assistance. I did this at a time when seven of my friends
were either executed or banished; Senecio, Rusticus, and Helvidius
having just been put to death, while Mauricus, Gratilla, Arria, and
Fannia, were sent into exile; and scorched as it were by so many
lightning-bolts of the state thus hurled and flashing round me, I
augured by no uncertain tokens my own impending doom. But I do
not look upon myself, on that account, as deserving of the high
praises my friend bestows upon me: all I pretend to is the being
clear of the infamous guilt of abandoning him in his misfortunes. I
had, as far as the differences between our ages would admit, a
friendship for his father-in-law Musonius, whom I both loved and
esteemed, while Artemidorus himself I entered into the closest
intimacy with when I was serving as a military tribune in Syria.
And I consider as a proof that there is some good in me the fact of
my being so early capable of appreciating a man who is either a
philosopher or the nearest resemblance to one possible; for I am
sure that, amongst all those who at the present day call themselves
philosophers, you will find hardly any one of them so full of
sincerity and truth as he. I forbear to mention how patient he is of
heat and cold alike, how indefatigable in labour, how abstemious
in his food, and what an absolute restraint he puts upon all his
appetites; for these qualities, considerable as they would certainly
be in any other character, are less noticeable by the side of the rest
of those virtues of his which recommended him to Musonius for a
son-in-law, in preference to so many others of all ranks who paid
their addresses to his daughter. And when I think of all these
things, I cannot help feeling pleasurably affected by those
unqualified terms of praise in which he speaks of me to you as
well as to everyone else. I am only apprehensive lest the warmth of
his kind feeling carry him beyond the due limits; for he, who is so
free from all other errors, is apt to fall into just this one
good-natured one, of overrating the merits of his friends. Farewell.

XXXII

To CATILIUS SEVERUS

I WILL come to supper, but must make this agreement beforehand,
that I go when I please, that you treat me to nothing expensive, and
that our conversation abound only in Socratic discourse, while
even that in moderation. There are certain necessary visits of
ceremony, bringing people out before daylight, which Cato himself
could not safely fall in with; though I must confess that Julius
Caesar reproaches him with that circumstance in such a manner as
redounds to his praise; for he tells us that the persons who met him
reeling home blushed at the discovery, and adds, "You would have
thought that Cato had detected them, and not they Cato." Could he
place the dignity of Cato in a stronger light than by representing
him thus venerable even in his cups? But let our supper be as
moderate in regard to hours as in the preparation and expense: for
we are not of such eminent reputation that even our enemies
cannot censure our conduct without applauding it at the same time.
Farewell.

XXXIII

To ACILIUS

THE atrocious treatment that Largius Macedo, a man of praetorian
rank, lately received at the hands of his slaves is so extremely
tragical that it deserves a place rather in public history than in a
private letter; though it must at the same time be acknowledged
there was a haughtiness and severity in his behaviour towards them
which shewed that he little remembered, indeed almost entirely
forgot, the fact that his own father had once been in that station of
life. He was bathing at his Formian Villa, when he found himself
suddenly surrounded by his slaves; one seizes him by the throat,
another strikes him on the mouth, whilst others trampled upon his
breast, stomach, and even other parts which I need not mention.
When they thought the breath must be quite out of his body, they
threw him down upon the heated pavement of the bath, to try
whether he were still alive, where he lay outstretched and
motionless, either really insensible or only feigning to be so, upon
which they concluded him to be actually dead. In this condition
they brought him out, pretending that he had got suffocated by the
heat of the bath. Some of his more trusty servants received him,
and his mistresses came about him shrieking and lamenting. The
noise of their cries and the fresh air, together, brought him a little
to himself; he opened his eyes, moved his body, and shewed them
(as he now safely might) that he was not quite dead. The murderers
immediately made their escape; but most of them have been
caught again, and they are after the rest. He was with great
difficulty kept alive for a few days, and then expired, having
however the satisfaction of finding himself as amply revenged in
his lifetime as he would have been after his death. Thus you see to
what affronts, indignities, and dangers we are exposed. Lenity and
kind treatment are no safeguard; for it is malice and not reflection
that arms such ruffians against their masters. So much for this
piece of news. And what else? What else? Nothing else, or you
should hear it, for I have still paper, and time too (as it is holiday
time with me) to spare for more, and I can tell you one further
circumstance relating to Macedo, which now occurs to me. As he
was in a public bath once, at Rome, a remarkable, and (judging
from the manner of his death) an ominous, accident happened to
him. A slave of his, in order to make way for his master, laid his
hand gently upon a Roman knight, who, turning suddenly round,
struck, not the slave who had touched him, but Macedo, so violent
a blow with his open palm that he almost knocked him down. Thus
the bath by a kind of gradation proved fatal to him; being first the
scene of an indignity he suffered, afterwards the scene of his death.
Farewell.

XXXIV

To NEPOS

I HAVE constantly observed that amongst the deeds and sayings of
illustrious persons of either sex, some have made more noise in the
world, whilst others have been really greater, although less talked
about; and I am confirmed in this opinion by a conversation I had
yesterday with Fannia. This lady is a grand-daughter to that
celebrated Arria, who animated her husband to meet death, by her
own glorious example. She informed me of several particulars
relating to Arria, no less heroic than this applauded action of hers,
though taken less notice of, and I think you will be as surprised to
read the account of them as I was to hear it. Her husband Caecinna
Paetus, and her son, were both attacked at the same time with a
fatal illness, as was supposed; of which the son died, a youth of
remarkable beauty, and as modest as he was comely, endeared
indeed to his parents no less by his many graces than from the fact
of his being their son. His mother prepared his funeral and
conducted the usual ceremonies so privately that Paetus did not
know of his death. Whenever she came into his room, she
pretended her son was alive and actually better: and as often as he
enquired after his health, would answer, "He has had a good rest,
and eaten his food with quite an appetite." Then when she found
the tears, she had so long kept back, gushing forth in spite of
herself, she would leave the room, and having given vent to her
grief, return with dry eyes and a serene countenance, as though she
had dismissed every feeling of bereavement at the door of her
husband's chamber. I must confess it was a brave action55 in her to
draw the steel, plunge it into her breast, pluck out the dagger, and
present it to her husband with that ever memorable, I had almost
said that divine, expression, "Paetus, it is not painful." But when
she spoke and acted thus, she had the prospect of glory and
immortality before her; how far greater, without the support of any
such animating motives, to hide her tears, to conceal her grief, and
cheerfully to act the mother, when a mother no more!

Scribonianus had taken up arms in Illyria against Clatidius, where
he lost his life, and Paetus, who was of his party, was brought a
prisoner to Rome. When they were going to put him on board ship,
Arria besought the soldiers that she might be permitted to attend
him: "For surely," she urged, "you will allow a man of consular
rank some servants to dress him, attend to him at meals, and put
his shoes on for him; but if you will take me, I alone will perform
all these offices." Her request was refused; upon which she hired a
fishing-boat, and in that small vessel followed the ship. On her
return to Rome, meeting the wife of Scribonianus in the emperor's
palace, at the time when this woman voluntarily gave evidence
against the conspirators--" What," she exclaimed, "shall I hear you
even speak to me, you, on whose bosom your husband
Scribonjanus was murdered, and yet you survive him? "--an
expression which plainly shews that the noble manner in which
she put an end to her life was no unpremeditated effect of sudden
passion. Moreover, when Thrasea, her son-in-law, was
endeavouring to dissuade her from her purpose of destroying
herself, and, amongst other arguments which he used, said to her,
"Would you then advise your daughter to die with me if my life
were to be taken from me?" "Most certainly I would," she replied,
"if she had lived as long, and in as much harmony with you, as I
have with my Paetus." This answer greatly increased the alarm of
her family, and made them watch her for the future more narrowly;
which, when she perceived, "It is of no use," she said, "you may
oblige me to effect my death in a more painful way, but it is
impossible you should prevent it." Saying this, she sprang from her
chair, and running her head with the utmost violence against the
wall, fell down, to all appearance, dead; but being brought to
herself again, "I told you," she said, "if you would not suffer me to
take an easy path to death, I should find a way to it, however hard."
Now, is there not, my friend, something much greater in all this
than in the so-much-talked-of "Paetus, it is not painful," to which
these led the way? And yet this last is the favourite topic of fame,
while all the former are passed over in silence. Whence I cannot
but infer, what I observed at the beginning of my letter, that some
actions are more celebrated, whilst others are really greater.

XXXV

To SEVERUS

I WAS obliged by my consular office to compliment the
emperor56 in the name of the republic; but after I had performed
that ceremony in the senate in the usual manner, and as fully as the
time and place would allow, I thought it agreeable to the affection
of a good subject to enlarge those general heads, and expand them
into a complete discourse. My principal object in doing so was, to
confirm the emperor in his virtues, by paying them that tribute of
applause which they so justly deserve; and at the same time to
direct future princes, not in the formal way of lecture, but by his
more engaging example, to those paths they must pursue if they
would attain the same heights of glory. To instruct princes how to
form their conduct, is a noble, but difficult task, and may, perhaps,
be esteemed an act of presumption: but to applaud the character of
an accomplished prince, and to hold out to posterity, by this
means, a beacon-light as it were, to guide succeeding monarchs, is
a method equally useful, and much more modest. It afforded me a
very singular pleasure that when I wished to recite this panegyric
in a private assemby, my friends gave me their company, though I
did not solicit them in the usual form of notes or circulars, but only
desired their attendance, "should it be quite convenient to them,"
and "if they should happen to have no other engagement." You
know the excuses generally made at Rome to avoid invitations of
this kind; how prior invitations are usually alleged; yet, in spite of
the worst possible weather, they attended the recital for two days
together; and when I thought it would be unreasonable to detain
them any longer, they insisted upon my going through with it the
next day. Shall I consider this as an honour done to myself or to
literature? Rather let me suppose to the latter, which, though
well-nigh extinct, seems to be now again reviving amongst us. Yet
what was the subject which raised this uncommon attention? No
other than what formerly, even in the senate, where we had to
submit to it, we used to grudge even a few moments' attention to.
But now, you see, we have patience to recite and to attend to the
same topic for three days together; and the reason of this is, not
that we have more eloquent writing now than formerly, but we
write under a fuller sense of individual freedom, and consequently
more genially than we used to. It is an additional glory therefore to
our present emperor that this sort of harangue, which was once as
disgusting as it was false, is now as pleasing as it is sincere. But it
was not only the earnest attention of my audience which afforded
me pleasure; I was greatly delighted too with the justness of their
taste: for I observed, that the more nervous parts of my discourse
gave them peculiar satisfaction. It is true, indeed, this work, which
was written for the perusal of the world in general, was read only
to a few; however, I would willingly look upon their particular
judgment as an earnest of that of the public, and rejoice at their
manly taste as if it were universally spread. It was just the same in
eloquence as it was in music, the vitiated ears of the audience
introduced a depraved style; but now, I am inclined to hope, as a
more refined judgment prevails in the public, our compositions of
both kinds will improve too; for those authors whose sole object is
to please will fashion their works according to the popular taste. I
trust, however, in subjects of this nature the florid style is most
proper; and am so far from thinking that the vivid colouring I have
used will be esteemed foreign and unnatural that I am most
apprehensive that censure will fall upon those parts where the
diction is most simple and unornate. Nevertheless, I sincerely wish
the time may come, and that it now were, when the smooth and
luscious, which has affected our style, shall give place, as it ought,
to severe and chaste composition.--Thus have I given you an
account of my doings of these last three days, that your absence
might not entirely deprive you of a pleasure which, from your
friendship to me, and the part you take in everything that concerns
the interest of literature, I know you would have received, had you
been there to hear. Farewell.

XXXVI

To CALVISIUS RUFUS

I MUST have recourse to you, as usual, in an affair which
concerns my finances. An estate adjoining my land, and indeed
running into it, is for sale. There are several considerations
strongly inclining me to this purchase, while there are others no
less weighty deterring me from it. Its first recommendation is, the
beauty which will result from uniting this farm to my own lands;
next, the advantage as well as pleasure of being able to visit it
without additional trouble and expense; to have it superintended
by the same steward, and almost by the same sub-agents, and to
have one villa to support and embellish, the other just to keep in
common repair. I take into this account furniture, housekeepers,
fancy-gardeners, artificers, and even hunting-apparatus, as it
makes a very great difference whether you get these altogether into
one place or scatter them about in several. On the other hand, I
don't know whether it is prudent to expose so large a property to
the same climate, and the same risks of accident happening; to
distribute one's possessions about seems a safer way of meeting the
caprice of fortune, besides, there is something extremely pleasant
in the change of air and place, and the going about between one's
properties. And now, to come to the chief consideration:--the lands
are rich, fertile, and well-watered, consisting chiefly of
meadow-ground, vineyard, and wood, while the supply of building
timber and its returns, though moderate, still, keep at the same
rate. But the soil, fertile as it is, has been much impoverished by
not having been properly looked after. The person last in
possession used frequently to seize and sell the stock, by which
means, although he lessened his tenants' arrears for the time being,
yet he left them nothing to go on with and the arrears ran up again
in consequence. I shall be obliged, then, to provide them with
slaves, which I must buy, and at a higher than the usual price, as
these will be good ones; for I keep no fettered slaves57 myself,
and there are none upon the estate. For the rest, the price, you must
know, is three millions of sesterces.58 It has formerly gone over
five millions,59 but owing, partly to the general hardness of the
times, and partly to its being thus stripped of tenants, the income
of this estate is reduced, and consequently its value. You will be
inclined perhaps to enquire whether I can easily raise the
purchase-money? My estate, it is true, is almost entirely in land,
though I have some money out at interest; but I shall find no
difficulty in borrowing any sum I may want. I can get it from my
wife's mother, whose purse I may use with the same freedom as
my own; so that you need not trouble yourself at all upon that
point, should you have no other objections, which I should like you
very carefully to consider: for, as in everything else, so,
particularly in matters of economy, no man has more judgment and
experience than yourself. Farewell.

XXXVII

To CORNELIUS PRISCUS

I HAVE just heard of Valerius Martial's death, which gives me
great concern. He was a man of an acute and lively genius, and his
writings abound in equal wit, satir~, and kindliness. On his leaving
Rome I made him a present to defray his travelling expenses,
which I gave him, not only as a testimony of friendship, but also in
return for the verses with which he had complimented me. It was
the custom of the ancients to distinguish those poets with honours
or pecuniary rewards, who had celebrated particular individuals or
cities in their verses; but this good custom, along with every other
fair and noble one, has grown out of fashion now; and in
consequence of our having ceased to act laudably, we consider
praise a folly and impertinence. You may perhaps be curious to see
the verses which merited this acknowledgment from me, and I
believe I can, from memory, partly satisfy your curiosity, without
referring you to his works: but if you should be pleased with this
specimen of them, you must turn to his poems for the rest. He
addresses himself to his muse, whom he directs to go to my house
upon the Esquiline,60 but to approach it with respect.

"Go, wanton muse, but go with care,
Nor meet, ill-tim'd, my Pliny's ear;
He, by sage Minerva taught,
Gives the day to studious thought,
And plans that eloquence divine,
Which shall to future ages shine,
And rival, wondrous Tully! thine.
Then, cautious, watch the vacant hour,
When Bacchus reigns in all his pow'r;
When, crowned with rosy chaplets gay,
Catos might read my frolic lay."61

Do you not think that the poet who wrote of me in such terms
deserved some friendly marks of my bounty then, and of my
sorrow now? For he gave me the very best he had to bestow, and
would have given more had it been in his power. Though indeed
what can a man have conferred on him more valuable than the
honour of never-fading praise? But his poems will not long survive
their author, at least I think not, though he wrote them in the
expectation of their doing so. Farewell.

XXXVIII

To FABATUS (HIS WIFE'S GRANDFATHER)

You have long desired a visit from your grand-daughter62
accompanied by me. Nothing, be assured, could be more agreeable
to either of us; for we equally wish to see you, and are determined
to delay that pleasure no longer. For this purpose we are already
packing up, and hastening to you with all the speed the roads will
permit of. We shall make only one, short, stoppage, for we intend
turning a little out of our way to go into Tuscany: not for the sake
of looking upon our estate, and into our family concerns, which we
can postpone to another opportunity, but to perform an
indispensable duty. There is a town near my estate, called
Tifernum-upon-the-Tiber,63 which, with more affection than
wisdom, put itself under my patronage when I was yet a youth.
These people celebrate my arrival among them, express the
greatest concern when I leave them, and have public rejoicings
whenever they hear of my preferments. By way of requiting their
kindnesses (for what generous mind can bear to be excelled in acts
of friendship?) I have built a temple in this place, at my own
expense, and as it is finished, it would be a sort of impiety to put
off its dedication any longer. So we shall be there on the day on
which that ceremony is to be performed, and I have resolved to
celebrate it with a general feast. We may possibly stay on there for
all the next day, but shall make so much the greater haste in our
journey afterwards. May we have the happiness to find you and
your daughter in good health! In good spirits I am sure we shall,
should we get to you all safely. Farewell.

XXXIX

To ATTIUS CLEMENS

REGULUS has lost his son; the only undeserved misfortune which
could have befallen him, in that I doubt whether he thinks it a
misfortune. The boy had quick parts, but there was no telling how
he might turn out; however, he seemed capable enough of going
right, were he not to grow up like his father. Regulus gave him his
freedom,64 in order to entitle him to the estate left him by his
mother; and when he got into possession of it, (I speak of the
current rumours, based upon the character of the man,) fawned
upon the lad with a disgusting shew of fond affection which in a
parent was utterly out of place. You may hardly think this credible;
but then consider what Regulus is. However, he now expresses his
concern for the loss of this youth in a most extravagant manner.
The boy had a number of ponies for riding and driving, dogs both
big and little, together with nightingales, parrots, and blackbirds in
abundance. All these Regulus slew round the funeral pile. It was
not grief, but an ostentatious parade of grief. He is visited upon
this occasion by a surprising number of people, who all hate and
detest the man, and yet are as assiduous in their attendance upon
him as if they really esteemed and loved him, and, to give you my
opinion in a word, in endeavouring to do Regulus a kindness,
make themselves exactly like him. He keeps himself in his park on
the other side the Tiber, where he has covered a vast extent of
ground with his porticoes, and crowded all the shore with his
statues; for he unites prodigality with excessive covetousness, and
vain-glory with the height of infamy. At this very unhealthy time
of year he is boring society, and he feels pleasure and consolation
in being a bore. He says he wishes to marry,--a piece of perversity,
like all his other conduct. You must expect, therefore, to hear
shortly of the marriage of this mourner, the marriage of this old
man; too early in the former case, in the latter, too late. You ask
me why I conjecture this? Certainly not because he says so himself
(for a greater liar never stepped), but because there is no doubt that
Regulus will do whatever ought not to be done. Farewell.

XL

To CATIUS LEPIDUS

I OFTEN tell you that there is a certain force of character about
Regulus: it is wonderful how he carries through what he has set his
mind to. He chose lately to be extremely concerned for the loss of
his son: accordingly he mourned for him as never man mourned
before. He took it into his head to have an immense number of
statues and pictures of him; immediately all the artisans in Rome
are set to work. Canvas, wax, brass, silver, gold, ivory, marble, all
exhibit the figure of the young Regulus. Not long ago he read,
before a numerous audience, a memoir of his son: a memoir of a
mere boy! However he read it. He wrote likewise a sort of circular
letter to the several Decurii desiring them to choose out one of
their order who had a strong clear voice, to read this eulogy to the
people; it has been actually done. Now had this force of character
or whatever else you may call a fixed determination in obtaining
whatever one has a mind for, been rightly applied, what infinite
good it might have effected! The misfortune is, there is less of this
quality about good people than about bad people, and as ignorance
begets rashness, and thoughtfulness produces deliberation, so
modesty is apt to cripple the action of virtue, whilst confidence
strengthens vice. Regulus is a case in point: he has a weak voice,
an awkward delivery, an indistinct utterance, a slow imagination,
and no memory; in a word, he possesses nothing but a sort of
frantic energy: and yet, by the assistance of a flighty turn and much
impudence, he passes as an orator. Herennius Senecio admirably
reversed Cato's definition of an orator, and applied it to Regulus:
"An orator," he said, "is a bad man, unskilled in the art of
speaking." And really Cato's definition is not a more exact
description of a true orator than Seneclo's is of the character of this
man. Would you make me a suitable return for this letter? Let me
know if you, or any of my friends in your town, have, like a stroller
in the marketplace, read this doleful production of Regulus's,
"raising," as Demosthenes says, "your voice most merrily, and
straining every muscle in your throat." For so absurd a
performance must excite laughter rather than compassion; and
indeed the composition is as puerile as the subject. Farewell.

XLI

To MATURUS ARRIANUS

Mv advancement to the dignity of augur65 is an honour that justly
indeed merits your congratulations; not only because it is highly
honourable to receive, even in the slightest instances, a testimony
of the approbation of so wise and discreet a prince,66 but because
it is moreover an ancient and religious institution, which has this
sacred and peculiar privilege annexed to it, that it is for life. Other
sacerdotal offices, though they may, perhaps, be almost equal to
this one in dignity, yet as they are given so they may be taken away
again: but fortune has no further power over this than to bestow it.
What recommends this dignity still more highly is, that I have the
honour to succeed so illustrious a person as Julius Frontinus. He
for many years, upon the nomination-day of proper persons to be
received into the sacred college, constantly proposed me, as
though he had a view to electing me as his successor; and since it
actually proved so in the event, I am willing to look upon it as
something more than mere accident. But the circumstance, it
seems, that most pleases you in this affair, is, that Cicero enjoyed
the same post; and you rejoice (you tell me) to find that I follow
his steps as closely in the path of honours as I endeavour to do in
that of eloquence. I wish, indeed, that as I had the advantage of
being admitted earlier into the same order of priesthood, and into
the consular office, than Cicero, that so I might, in my later years,
catch some spark, at least, of his divine genius! The former,
indeed, being at man's disposal, may be conferred on me and on
many others, but the latter it is as presumptuous to hope for as it is
difficult to reach, being in the gift of heaven alone. Farewell.

XLII

To STATIUS SABINUS

YOUR letter informs me that Sabina, who appointed you and me
her heirs, though she has nowhere expressly directed that
Modestus shall have his freedom, yet has left him a legacy in the
following words, "I give, &c.--To Modestus, whom I have ordered
to have his freedom": upon which you desire my opinion. I have
consulted skilful lawyers upon the point, and they all agree
Modestus is not entitled to his liberty, since it is not expressly
given, and consequently that the legacy is void, as being
bequeathed to a slave.67 But it evidently appears to be a mistake
in the testatrix; and therefore I think we ought to act in this case as
though Sabina had directed, in so many words, what, it is clear,
she had ordered. I am persuaded you will go with me in this
opinion, who so religiously regard the will of the deceased, which
indeed where it can be discovered will always be law to honest
heirs. Honour is to you and me as strong an obligation as the
compulsion of law is to others. Let Modestus then enjoy his
freedom and his legacy as fully as if Sabina had observed all the
requisite forms, as indeed they effectually do who make a
judicious choice of their heirs. Farewell.

XLIII

To CORNELIUS MINICIANUS

HAVE you heard--I suppose, not yet, for the news has but just
arrived--that Valerius Licinianus has become a professor in Sicily?
This unfortunate person, who lately enjoyed the dignity of praetor,
and was esteemed the most eloquent of our advocates, is now
fallen from a senator to an exile, from an orator to a teacher of
rhetoric. Accordingly in his inaugural speech he uttered,
sorrowfully and solemnly, the following words: "Oh! Fortune, how
capriciously dost thou sport with mankind! Thou makest
rhetoricians of senators, and senators of rhetoricians !" A sarcasm
so poignant and full of gall that one might almost imagine he fixed
upon this profession merely for the sake of an opportunity of
applying it. And having made his first appearance in school, clad
in the Greek cloak (for exiles have no right to wear the toga), after
arranging himself and looking down upon his attire, "I am,
however," he said, "going to declaim in Latin." You will think,
perhaps, this situation, wretched and deplorable as it is, is what he
well deserves for having stained the honourable profession of an
orator with the crime of incest. It is true, indeed, he pleaded guilty
to the charge; but whether from a consciousness of his guilt, or
from an apprehension of worse consequences if he denied it, is not
clear; for Domitian generally raged most furiously where his
evidence failed him most hopelessly. That emperor had
determined that Cornelia, chief of the Vestal Virgins,68 should be
buried alive, from an extravagant notion that exemplary seventies
of this kind conferred lustre upon his reign. Accordingly, by virtue
of his office as supreme pontiff, or, rather, in the exercise of a
tyrant's cruelty, a despot's lawlessness, he convened th‡ sacred
college, not in the pontifical court where they usually assemble,
but at his villa near Alba; and there, with a guilt no less heinous
than that which he professed to be punishing, he condemned her,
when she was not present to defend herself, on the charge of
incest, while he himself had been guilty, not only of debauching
his own brother's daughter, but was also accessory to her death: for
that lady, being a widow, in order to conceal her shame,
endeavoured to procure an abortion, and by that means lost her
life. However, the priests were directed to see the sentence
immediately executed upon Cornelia. As they were leading her to
the place of execution, she called upon Vesta, and the rest of the
gods, to attest her innocence; and, amongst other exclamations,
frequently cried out, "Is it possible that Caesar can think me
polluted, under the influence of whose sacred functions he has
conquered and triumphed?"69 Whether she said this in flattery or
derision; whether it proceeded from a consciousness of her
innocence, or contempt of the emperor, is uncertain; but she
continued exclaiming in this manner, till she came to the place of
execution, to which she was led, whether innocent or guilty I
cannot say, at all events with every appearance and demonstration
of innocence. As she was being lowered down into the
subterranean vault, her robe happening to catch upon something in
the descent, she turned round and disengaged it, when, the
executioner offering his assistance, she drew herself back with
horror, refusing to be so much as touched by him, as though it
were a defilement to her pure and unspotted chastity: still
preserving the appearance of sanctity up to the last moment; and,
among all the other instances of her modesty,

"She took great care to fall with decency."70

Celer likewise, a Roman knight, who was accused of an intrigue
with her, while they were scourging him with rods71 in the Forum,
persisted in exclaiming, "What have I done?--I have done nothing."
These declarations of innocence had exasperated Domitian
exceedingly, as imputing to him acts of cruelty and injustice,
accordingly Licinianus being seized by the emperor's orders for
having concealed a freedwoman of Cornelia's in one of his estates,
was advised, by those who took him in charge, to confess the fact,
if he hoped to obtain a remission of his punishment, circumstance
to add further, that a young nobleman, having had his tunic torn,
an ordinary occurrence in a crowd, stood with his gown thrown
over him, to hear me, and that during the seven hours I was
speaking, whilst my success more than counterbalanced the fatigue
of so long a speech. So let us set to and not screen our own
indolence under pretence of that of the public. Never, be very sure
of that, will there be wanting hearers and readers, so long as we
can only supply them with speakers and writers worth their
attention. Farewell.

XLV

To ASINIUS

You advise me, nay you entreat me, to undertake, in her absence,
the cause of Corellia, against C. Caecilius, consul elect. For your
advice I am grateful, of your entreaty I really must complain;
without the first, indeed, I should have been ignorant of this affair,
but the last was unnecessary, as I need no solicitations to comply,
where it would be ungenerous in me to refuse; for can I hesitate a
moment to take upon myself the protection of a daughter of
Corellius? It is true, indeed, though there is no particular intimacy
between her adversary and myself, still we are upon good enough
terms. It is also true that he is a person of rank, and one who has a
high claim upon my especial regard, as destined to enter upon an
office which I have had the honour to fill; and it is natural for a
man to be desirous those dignities should be held in the highest
esteem which he himself once possessed. Yet all these
considerations appear indifferent and trifling when I reflect that it
is the daughter of Corellius whom I am to defend. The memory of
that excellent person, than whom this age has not produced a man
of greater dignity, rectitude, and acuteness, is indelibly imprinted
upon my mind. My regard for him sprang from my admiration of
the man, and contrary to what is usually the case, my admiration
increased upon a thorough knowledge of him, and indeed I did
know him thoroughly, for he kept nothing back from me, whether
gay or serious, sad or joyous. When he was but a youth, he
esteemed, and (I will even venture to say) revered, me as if I had
been his equal. When I solicited any post of honour, he supported
me with his interest, and recommended me with his testimony;
when I entered upon it, he was my introducer and my companion;
when I exercised it, he was my guide and my counsellor. In a
word, whenever my interest was concerned, he exerted himself, in
spite of his weakness and declining years, with as much alacrity as
though he were still young and lusty. In private, in public, and at
court, how often has he advanced and supported my credit and
interest! It happened once that the conversation, in the presence of
the emperor Nerva, turned upon the promising young men of that
time, and several of the company present were pleased to mention
me with applause; he sat for a little while silent, which gave what
he said the greater weight; and then, with that air of dignity, to
which you are no stranger, "I must be reserved," said he, "in my
praises of Pliny, because he does nothing without advice." By
which single sentence he bestowed upon me more than my most
extravagant wishes could aspire to, as he represented my conduct
to be always such as wisdom must approve, since it was wholly
under the direction of one of the wisest of men. Even in his last
moments he said to his daughter (as she often mentions), "I have in
the course of a long life raised up many friends to you, but there
are none in whom you may more assuredly confide than Pliny and
Cornutus." A circumstance I cannot reflect upon without being
deeply sensible how incumbent it is upon me to endeavour not to
disappoint the confidence so excellent a judge of human nature
reposed in me. I shall therefore most readily give my assistance to
Corellia in this affair, and willingly risk any displeasure I may
incur by appearing in her behalf. Though I should imagine, if in
the course of my pleadings I should find an opportunity to explain
and enforce more fully and at large than the limits of a letter allow
of the reasons I have here mentioned, upon which I rest at once my
apology and my glory; her adversary (whose suit may perhaps, as
you say, be entirely without precedent, as it is against a woman)
will not only excuse, but approve, my conduct. Farewell.

XLVI

To HISPULLA

As you are a model of all virtue, and loved your late excellent
brother, who had such a fondness for you, with an affection equal
to his own; regarding too his daughter72 as your child, not only
shewing her an aunt's tenderness but supplying the place of the
parent she had lost; I know it will give you the greatest pleasure
and joy to hear that she proves worthy of her father, her
grandfather, and yourself. She possesses an excellent
understanding together with a consummate prudence, and gives the
strongest evidence of the purity of her heart by her fondness of her
husband. Hcr affection for me, moreover, has given her a taste for
books, and my productions, which she takes a pleasure in reading,
and even in getting by heart, are continually in her hands. How full
of tender anxiety is she when I am going to speak in any case, how
rejoiced she feels when it is got through. While I am pleading, she
stations persons to inform her from time to time how I am heard,
what applauses I receive, and what success attends the case. When
I recite my works at any time, she conceals herself behind some
curtain, and drinks in my praises with greedy ears. She sings my
verses too, adapting them to her lyre, with no other master but
love, that best of instructors, for her guide. From these happy
circumstances I derive my surest hopes, that the harmony between
us will increase with our days, and be as lasting as our lives. For it
is not my youth or person, which time gradually impairs; it is my
honour and glory that she cares for. But what less could be
expected from one who was trained by your hands, and formed by
your instructions; who was early familiarized under your roof with
all that is pure and virtuous, and who learnt to love me first
through your praises? And as you revered my mother with all the
respect due even to a parent, so you kindly directed and
encouraged my tender years, presaging from that early period all
that my wife now fondly imagines I really am. Accept therefore of
our mutual thanks, mine, for your giving me her, hers for your
glaring her me; for you have chosen us out, as it were, for each
other. Farewell.

XLVII

To ROMATIUS FIASIUS

Look here! The next time the court sits, you must, at all events,
take your place there. In vain would your indolence repose itself
under my protection, for there is no absenting oneself with
impunity. Look at that severe, determined, praetor, Licinius Nepos,
who fined even a senator for the same neglect! The senator
pleaded his cause in person, but in suppliant tone. The fine, it is
true, was remitted, but sore was his dismay, humble his
intercession, and he had to ask pardon. "All praetors are not so
severe as that," you will reply; you are mistaken--for though indeed
to be the author and reviver of an example of this kind may be an
act of severity, yet, once introduced, even lenity herself may
follow the precedent. Farewell.

XLVIII

To LICINIUS SURA

I HAVE brought you as a little present out of the country a query
which well deserves the consideration of your extensive
knowledge. There is a spring which rises in a neighbouring
mountain, and running among the rocks is received into a little
banqueting-room, artificially formed for that purpose, from
whence, after being detained a short time, it falls into the Larian
lake. The nature of this spring is extremely curious; it ebbs and
flows regularly three times a day. The increase and decrease is
plainly visible, and exceedingly interesting to observe. You sit
down by the side of the fountain, and while you are taking a repast
and drinking its water, which is extremely cool, you see it
gradually rise and fall. If you place a ring, or anything else at the
bottom, when it is dry, the water creeps gradually up, first gently
washing, finally covering it entirely, and then little by little
subsides again. If you wait long enough, you may see it thus
alternately advance and recede three ssccessive times. Shall we say
that some secret current of air stops and opens the fountain-head,
first rushing in and checking the flow and then, driven back by the
counter-resistance of the water, escaping again; as we see in
bottles, and other vessels of that nature, where, there not being a
free and open passage, though you turn their necks perpendicularly
or obliquely downwards, yet, the outward air obstructing the vent,
they discharge their contents as it were by starts? Or, may not this
small collection of water be successively contracted and enlarged
upon the same principle as the ebb and flow of the sea? Or, again,
as those rivers which discharge themselves into the sea, meeting
with contrary winds and the swell of the ocean, are forced back in
their channels, so, in the same way, may there not be something
that checks this fountain, for a time, in its progress? Or is there
rather a certain reservoir that contains these waters in the bowels
of the earth, and while it is recruiting its discharges, the stream in
consequence flows more slowly and in less quantity, but, when it
has collected its due measure, runs on again in its usual strength
and fulness? Or lastly, is there I know not what kind of
subterranean counterpoise, that throws up the water when the
fountain is dry, and keeps it back when it is full? You, who are so
well qualified for the enquiry, will examine into the causes of this
wonderful phenomenon; it will be sufficient for me if I have given
you an adequate description of it. Farewell.

XLIX

To ANNIUS SEVERUS

A SMALL legacy was lately left me, yet one more acceptable than
a far larger bequest would have been. How more acceptable than a
far larger one? In this way. Pomponia Gratilla, having disinherited
her son Assidius Curianus, appointed me of one of her heirs, and
Sertorius Severus, of pretorian rank, together with several eminent
Roman knights, co-heirs along with me. The son applied to me to
give him my share of the inheritance, in order to use my name as
an example to the rest of the joint-heirs, but offered at the same
time to enter into a secret agreement to return me my proportion. I
told him, it was by no means agreeable to my character to seem to
act one way while in reality I was acting another, besides it was
not quite honourable making presents to a man of his fortune, who
had no children; in a word, this would not at all answer the
purpose at which he was aiming, whereas, if I were to withdraw
my claim, it might be of some service to him, and this I was ready
and willing to do, if he could clearly prove to me that he was
unjustly disinherited.

"Do then," he said, "be my arbitrator in this case." After a short
pause I answered him, "I will, for I don't see why I should not have
as good an opinion of my own impartial disinterestedness as you
seem to have. But, mind, I am not to be prevailed upon to decide
the point in question against your mother, if it should appear she
had jusL reason for what she has done." "As you please," he
replied, "which I am sure is always to act according to justice." I
called in, as my assistants, Corellius and Frontinus, two of the very
best lawyers Rome at that time afforded. With these in attendance,
I heard the case in my own chamber. Curianus said everything
which he thought would favour his pretensions, to whom (there
being nobody but myself to defend the character of the deceased) I
made a short reply; after which I retired with my friends to
deliberate, and, being agreed upon our verdict, I said to him,
"Cnn-anus, it is our opinion that your conduct has justly drawn
upon you your mother's displeasure." Sometime afterwards,
Curianus commenced a suit in the Court of the Hundred against all
the co-heirs except myself. The day appointed for the trial
approaching, the rest of the co-heirs were anxious to compromise
the affair and have done with it, not out of any diffidence of their
cause, but from a distrust of the times. They were apprehensive of
what had happened to many others, happening to them, and that
from a civil suit it might end in a criminal one, as there were some
among them to whom the friendship of Gratilla and Rusticus73
might be extremely prejudicial: they therefore desired me to go
and talk with Curianus. We met in the temple of Concord; "Now
supposing," I said, "your mother had left you the fourth part of her
estate, or even suppose she had made you sole heir, but had
exhausted so much of the estate in legacies that there would not be
more than a fourth part remaining to you, could you justly
complain? You ought to be content, therefore, if, being absolutely
disinherited as you are, the heirs are willing to relinquish to you a
fourth part, which however I will increase by contributing my
proportion. You know you did not commence any suit against me,
and two years have now elapsed, which gives me legal and
indisputable possession. But to induce you to agree to the
proposals on the part of the other co-heirs, and that you may be no
sufferer by the peculiar respect you shew me, I offer to advance
my proportion with them." The silent approval of my own
conscience is not the only result out of this transaction; it has
contributed also to the honour of my character. For it is this same
Cunianus who has left me the legacy I have mentioned in the
beginning of my letter, and I received it as a very notable mark of
his approbation of my conduct, if I do not flatter myself. I have
written and told you all this, because in all my joys and sorrows I
am wont to look upon you as myself, and I thought it would be
unkind not to communicate to so tender a friend whatever
occasions me a sensible gratification; for I am not philosopher
enough to be indifferent, when I think I have acted like an
honour-able man, whether my actions meet with that approval
which is in some sort their due. Farewell.

L

To TITIUS ARIST0

AMONG the many agreeable and obliging instances I have
received of your friendship, your not concealing from me the long
conversations which lately took place at your house concerning my
verses, and the various judgments passed upon them (which served
to prolong the talk,) is by no means the least. There were some, it
seems, who did not disapprove of my poems in themselves, but at
the same time censured me in a free and friendly way, for
employing myself in composing and reciting them. I am so far,
however, from desiring to extenuate the charge that I willingly
acknowledge myself still more deserving of it, and confess that I
sometimes amuse myself with writing verses of the gayer sort. I
compose comedies, divert myself with pantomimes, read the lyric
poets, and enter into the spirit of the most wanton muse, besides
that, I indulge myself sometimes in laughter, mirth, and frolic, and,
to sum up every kind of innocent relaxation in one word, I am a
man. I am not in the least offended, though, at their low opinion of
my morals, and that those who are ignorant of the fact that the
most learned, the wisest, and the best of men have employed
themselves in the same way, should be surprised at the tone of my
writings: but from those who know what noble and numerous
examples I follow, I shall, I am confident, easily obtain permission
to err with those whom it is an honour to imitate, not only in their
most serious occupations but their lightest triflings. Is it
unbecoming me (I will not name any living example, lest I should
seem to flatter), but is it unbecoming me to practise what became
Tully, Calvus, Pollio, Messala, Hortensius, Brutus, Sulla, Catulus,
Scaevola, Sulpitius, Varro, the Torquati, Memmius, Gaetulicus,
Seneca, Lucceius, and, within our own memory, Verginius Rufus?
But if the examples of private men are not sufficient to justify me,
I can cite Julius Casar, Augustus, Nerva, and Tiberius Casar. I
forbear to add Nero to the catalogue, though I am aware that what
is practised by the worst of men does not therefore degenerate into
wrong: on the contrary, it still maintains its credit, if frequently
countenanced by the best. In that number, Virgil, Cornelius Nepos,
and prior to these, Ennius and Attius, justly deserve the most
distinguished place. These last indeed were not senators, but
goodness knows no distinction of rank or title. I recite my works, it
is true, and in this instance I am not sure I can support myself by
their examples. They, perhaps, might be satisfied with their own
judgment, but I have too humble an opinion of mine to suppose my
compositions perfect, because they appear so to my own mind. My
reason then for reciting are, that, for one thing, there is a certain
deference for one's audience, which excites a somewhat more
vigorous application, and then again, I have by this means an
opportunity of settling any doubts I may have concerning my
performance, by observing the general opinion of the audience. In
a word, I have the advantage of receiving different hints from
different persons: and although they should not declare their
meaning in express terms, yet the expression of the countenance,
the movement of the head, the eyes, the motion of a hand, a
whisper, or even silence itself will easily distinguish their real
opinion from the language of politeness. And so if any one of my
audience should have the curiosity to read over the same
performance which he heard me read, he may find several things
altered or omitted, and perhaps too upon his particular judgment,
though he did not say a single word to me. But I am not defending
my conduct in this particular, as if I had actually recited my works
in public, and not in my own house before my friends, a numerous
appearance of whom has upon many occasions been held an
honour, but never, surely, a reproach. Farewell.

LI

To NONIUS MAXIMUS

I AM deeply afflicted with the news I have received of the death of
Fannius; in the first place, because I loved one so eloquent and
refined, in the next, because I was accustomed to be guided by his
judgment--.and indeed he possessed great natural acuteness,
improved by practice, rendering him able to see a thing in an
instant. There are some circumstances about his death, which
aggravate my concern. He left behind him a will which had been
made a considerable time before his decease, by which it happens
that his estate is fallen into the hands of those who had incurred
his displeasure, whilst his greatest favourites are excluded. But
what I particularly regret is, that he has left unfinished a very noble
work in which he was employed. Notwithstanding his full practice
at the bar, he had begun a history of those persons who were put to
death or banished by Nero, and completed three books of it. They
are written with great elegance and precision, the style is pure, and
preserves a proper medium between the plain narrative and the
historical: and as they were very favourably received by the public,
he was the more desirous of being able to finish the rest. The hand
of death is ever, in my opinion, too untimely and sudden when it
falls upon such as are employed in some immortal work. The sons
of sensuality, who have no outlpok beyond the present hour, put an
end every day to all motives for living, but those who look forward
to posterity, and endeavour to transmit their names with honour to
future generations by their works--to such, death is always
immature, as it still snatches them from amidst some unfinished
design. Fannius, long before his death, had a presentiment of what
has happened: he dreamed one night that as he was lying on his
couch, in an undress, all ready for his work, and with his desk,74
as usual, in front of him, Nero entered, and placing himself by his
side, took up the three first books of this history, which he read
through and then departed. This dream greatly alarmed him, and
he regarded it as an intimation, that he should not carry on his
history any farther than Nero had read, and so the event has
proved. I cannot reflect upon this accident without lamenting that
he was prevented from accomplishing a work which had cost him
so many toilsome vigils, as it suggests to me, at the same time,
reflections on my own mortality, and the fate of my wrtiings: and I
am persuaded the same apprehensions alarm you for those in
which you are at present employed. Let us then, my friend, while
life permits, exert all our endeavours, that death, whenever it
arrives, may find as little as possible to destroy. Farewell.

LII

To DOMITIUS APOLLINARIS

THE kind concern you expressed on hearing of my design to pass
the summer at my villa in Tuscany, and your obliging endeavours
to dissuade me from going to a place which you think unhealthy,
are extremely pleasing to me. It is quite true indeed that the air of
that part of Tuscany which lies towards the coast is thick and
unwholesome: but my house stands at a good distance from the
sea, under one of the Apennines which are singularly healthy. But,
to relieve you from all anxiety on my account, I will give you a
description of the temperature of the climate, the situation of the
country, and the beauty of my villa, which, I am persuaded, you
will hear with as much pleasure as I shall take in giving it. The air
in winter is sharp and frosty, so that myrtles, olives, and trees of
that kind which delight in constant warmth, will not flourish here:
but the laurel thrives, and is remarkably beautiful, though now and
then the cold kills it--though not oftener than it does in the
neighbourhood of Rome. The summers are extraordinarily mild,
and there is always a retreshing breeze, seldom high winds. This
accounts for the number of old men we have about, you would see
grandfathers and great-grandfathers of those now grown up to be
young men, hear old stories and the dialect of our ancestors, and
fancy yourself born in some former age were you to come here.
The character of the country is exceedingly beautiful. Picture to
yourself an immense amphitheatre, such as nature only could
create. Before you lies a broad, extended plain bounded by a range
of mountains, whose summits are covered with tall and ancient
woods, which are stocked with all kinds of game.

The descending slopes of the mountains are planted with
underwood, among which are a number of little risings with a rich
soil, on which hardly a stone is to be found. In fruitfulness they are
quite equal to a valley, and though their harvest is rather later,
their crops are just as good. At the foot of these, on the
mountain-side, the eye, wherever it turns, runs along one unbroken
stretch of vineyards terminated by a belt of shrubs. Next you have
meadows and the open plain. The arable land is so stiff that it is
necessary to go over it nine times with the biggest oxen and the
strongest ploughs. The meadows are bright with flowers, and
produce trefoil and other kinds of herbage as fine and tender as if
it were but just sprung up, for all the soil is refreshed by never
failing streams. But though there is plenty of water, there are no
marshes; for the ground being on a slope, whatever water it
receives without absorbing runs off into the Tiber. This river,
which winds through the middle of the meadows, is navigable only
in the winter and spring, at which seasons it transports the produce
of the lands to Rome: but in summer it sinks below its banks,
leaving the name of a great river to an almost empty channel:
towards the autumn, however, it begins again to renew its claim to
that title. You would be charmed by taking a view of this country
from the top of one of our neighbouring mountains, and would
fancy that not a real, but some imaginary landscape, painted by the
most exquisite pencil, lay before you, such an harmonious variety
of beautiful objects meets the eye, whichever way it turns. My
house, although at the foot of a hill, commands as good a view as
if it stood on its brow, yet you approach by so gentle and gradual a
rise that you find yourself on high ground without perceiving you
have been making an ascent. Behind, but at a great distance, is the
Apennine range. In the calmest days we get cool breezes from that
quarter, not sharp and cutting at all, being spent and broken by the
long distance they have travelled. The greater part of the house has
a southern aspect, and seems to invite the afternoon sun in summer
(but rather earlier in the winter) into a broad and proportionately
long portico, consisting of several rooms, particularly a court of
antique fashion. In front of the portico is a sort of terrace, edged
with box and shrubs cut into different shapes. You descend, from
the terrace, by an easy slope adorned with the figures of animals in
box, facing each other, to a lawn overspread with the soft, I had
almost said the liquid, Acanthus: this is surrounded by a walk
enclosed with evergreens, shaped into a variety of forms. Beyond it
is the gestatio~ laid out in the form of a circus running round the
multiform box-hedge and the dwarf-trees, which are cut quite
close. The whole is fenced in with a wall completely covered by
box cut into steps all the way up to the top. On the outside of the
wall lies a meadow that owes as many beauties to nature as all I
have been describing within does to art; at the end of which are
open plain and numerous other meadows and copses. From the
extremity of the portico a large dining-room runs out, opening
upon one end of the terrace, while from the windows there is a
very extensive view over the meadows up into the country, and
from these you also see the terrace and the projecting wing of the
house together with the woods enclosing the adjacent hippodrome.
Almost opposite the centre of the portico, and rather to the back,
stands a summer-house, enclosing a small area shaded by four
plane-trees, in the midst of which rises a marble fountain which
gently plays upon the roots of the plane-trees and upon the
grass-plots underneath them. This summer-house has a bed-room
in it free from every sort of noise, and which the light itself cannot
penetrate, together with a common dining-room I use when I have
none but intimate friends with me. A second portico looks upon
this little area, and has the same view as the other I have just been
describing. There is, besides, another room, which, being situate
close to the nearest plane-tree, enjoys a constant shade and green.
Its sides are encrusted with carved marble up to the ceiling, while
above the marble a foliage is painted with birds among the
branches, which has an effect altogether as agreeable as that of the
carving, at the foot of which a little fountain, playing through
several small pipes into a vase it encloses, produces a most
pleasing murmur. From a corner of the portico you enter a very
large bed-chamber opposite the large dining-room, which from
some of its windows has a view of the terrace, and from others, of
the meadow, as those in the front look upon a cascade, which
entertains at once both the eye and the ear; for the water, dashing
from a great height, foams over the marble basin which receives it
below. This room is extremely warm in winter, lying much
exposed to the sun, and on a cloudy day the heat of an adjoining
stove very well supplies his absence. Leaving this room, you pass
through a good-sized, pleasant, undressing-room into the
cold-bath-room, in which is a large gloomy bath: but if you are
inclined to swim more at large, or in warmer water, in the middle
of the area stands a wide basin for that purpose, and near it a
reservoir from which you may be supplied with cold water to brace
yourself again, if you should find you are too much relaxed by the
warm. Adjoining the cold bath is one of a medium degree of heat,
which enjoys the kindly warmth of the sun, but not so intensely as
the hot bath, which projects farther. This last consists of three
several compartments, each of different degrees of heat; the two
former lie open to the full sun, the latter, though not much exposed
to its heat, receives an equal share of its light. Over the
undressing-room is built the tennis-court, which admits of
different kinds of games and different sets of players. Not far from
the baths is the staircase leading to the enclosed portico, three
rooms intervening. One of these looks out upon the little area with
the four plane-trees round it, the other upon the meadows, and
from the third you have a view of several vineyards, so that each
has a different one, and looks towards a different point of the
heavens. At the upper end of the enclosed portico, and indeed
taken off from it, is a room that looks out upon the hippodrome,
the vineyards, and the mountains; adjoining is a room which has a
full expostire to the sun, especially in winter, and out of which
runs another connecting the hippodrome with the house. This
forms the front. On the side rises an enclosed portico, which not
only looks out upon the vineyards, but seems almost to touch
them. From the middle of this portico you enter a dining-room
cooled by the wholesome breezes from the Apennine valleys: from
the windows behind, which are extremely large, there is a close
view of the vineyards, and from the folding doors through the
summer portico. Along that side of the dining-room where there
are no windows runs a private staircase for greater convenience in
serving up when I give an entertainment; at the farther end is a
sleeping-room with a look-out upon the vineyards, and (what is
equally agreeable) the portico. Underneath this room is an
enclosed portico resembling a grotto, which, enjoying in the midst
of summer heats its own natural coolness, neither admits nor wants
external air. After you have passed both these porticoes, at the end
of the dining-room stands a third, which according as the day is
more or less advanced, serves either for Winter or summer use. It
leads to two different apartments, one containing four chambers,
the other, three, which enjoy by turns both sun and shade. This
arrangement of the different parts of my house is exceedingly
pleasant, though it is not to be compared with the beauty of the
hippodrome,' lying entirely open in the middle of the grounds, so
that the eye, upon your first entrance, takes it in entire in one view.
It is set round with plane-trees covered with ivy, so that, while
their tops flourish with their own green, towards the roots their
verdure is borrowed from the ivy that twines round the trunk and
branches, spreads from tree to tree, and connects them together.
Between each plane-tree are planted box-trees, and behind these
stands a grove of laurels which blend their shade with that of the
planes. This straight boundary to the hippodrome75 alters its shape
at the farther end, bending into a semicircle, which is planted
round, shut in with cypresses, and casts a deeper and gloomier
shade, while the inner circular walks (for there are several),
enjoying an open exposure, are filled with plenty of roses, and
correct, by a very pleasant contrast, the coolness of the shade with
the warmth of the sun. Having passed through these several
winding alleys, you enter a straight walk, which breaks out into a
variety of others, partitioned off by box-row hedges. In one place
you have a little meadow, in another the box is cut in a thousand
different forms, sometimes into letters, expressing the master's
name, sometimes the artificer's, whilst here and there rise little
obelisks with fruit-trees alternately intermixed, and then on a
sudden, in the midst of this elegant regularity, you are surprised
with an imitation of the negligent beauties of rural nature. In the
centre of this lies a spot adorned with a knot of dwarf plane-trees.
Beyond these stands an acacia, smooth and bending in places, then
again various other shapes and names. At the upper end is an
alcove of white marble, shaded with vines and supported by four
small Carystian columns. From this semicircular couch, the water,
gushing up through several little pipes, as though pressed out by
the weight of the persons who recline themselves upon it, falls into
a stone cistern underneath, from whence it is received into a fine
polished marble basin, so skilfully contrived that it is always full
without ever overflowing. When I sup here, this basin serves as a
table, the larger sort of dishes being placed round the margin,
while the smaller ones swim about in the form of vessels and
water-fowl. Opposite this is a fountain which is incessantly
emptying and filling, for the water which it throws up to a great
height, falling back again into it, is by means of consecutive
apertures returned as fast as it is received. Facing the alcove (and
reflecting upon it as great an ornament as it borrows from it)
stands a summer-house of exquisite marble, the doors of which
project and open into a green enclosure, while from its upper and
lower windows the eye falls upon a variety of different greens.
Next to this is a little private closet (which, though it seems
distinct, may form part of the same room), furnished with a couch,
and notwithstanding it has windows on every side, yet it enjoys a
very agreeable gloom, by means of a spreading vine which climbs
to the top, and entirely overshadows it. Here you may lie and fancy
yourself in a wood, with this only difference, that you are not
exposed to the weather as you would be there. Here too a fountain
rises and instantly disappears--several marble seats are set in
different places, which are as pleasant as the summer-house itself
after one is tired out with walking. Near each is a little fountain,
and throughout the whole hippodrome several small rills run
murmuring along through pipes, wherever the hand of art has
thought proper to conduct them, watering here and there different
plots of green, and sometimes all parts at once. I should have
ended before now, for fear of being too chatty, had I not proposed
in this letter to lead you into every corner of my house and
gardens. Nor did I apprehend your thinking it a trouble to read the
description of a place which I feel sure would please you were you
to see it; especially as you can stop just when you please, and by
throwing aside my letter, sit down as it were, and give yourself a
rest as often as you think proper. Besides, I gave my little passion
indulgence, for I have a passion for what I have built, or finished,
myself. In a word, (for why should I conceal from my friend either
my deliberate opinion or my prejudice?) I look upon it as the first
duty of every writer to frequently glance over his title-page and
consider well the subject he has proposed to himself; and he may
be sure, if he dwells on his subject, he cannot justly be thought
tedious, whereas if, on the contrary, he introduces and drags in
anything irrelevant, he will be thought exceedingly so. Homer, you
know, has employed many verses in the description of the arms of
Achilles, as Virgil has also in those of Aeneas, yet neither 'of them
is prolix, because they each keep within the limits of their original
design. Aratus, you observe, is not considered too circumstantial,
though he traces and enumerates the minutest stars, for he does not
go out of his way for that purpose, but only follows where his
subject leads him. In the same way (to compare small things with
great), so long as, in endeavouring to give you an idea of my
house, I have not introduced anything irtelevant or superfluous, it
is not my letter which describes, but my villa which is described,
that is to be considered large. But to return to where I began, lest I
should justly be condemned by my own law, if I continue longer in
this digression, you see now the reasons why I prefer my Tuscan
villa to those which I possess at Tusculum, Tiber, and Praeneste.76
Besides the advantages already mentioned, I enjoy here a cozier,
more profound and undisturbed retirement than anywhere else, as I
am at a greater distance from the business of the town and the
interruption of troublesome clients. All is calm and composed;
which circumstances contribute no less than its clear air and
unclouded sky to that health of body and mind I particularly enjoy
in this place, both of which I keep in full swing by study and
hunting. And indeed there is no place which agrees better with my
family, at least I am sure I have not yet lost one (may the
expression be allowed!77) of all those I brought here with me. And
may the gods continue that happiness to me, and that honour to my
villa. Farewell.

LIII

To CALVISIUS

IT is certain the law does not allow a corporate city to inherit any
estate by will, or to receive a legacy. Saturninus, however, who has
appointed me his heir, had left a fourth part of his estate to our
corporation of Comum; afterwards, instead of a fourth part, he
bequeathed four hundred thousand sesterces.78 This bequest, in
the eye of the law, is null and void, but, considered as the clear and
express will of the deceased, ought to stand firm and valid. Myself,
I consider the will of the dead (though I am afraid what I say will
not please the lawyers) of higher authority than the law, especially
when the interest of one's native country is concerned. Ought I,
who made them a present of eleven hundred thousand sesterces79
out of my own patrimony, to withhold a benefaction of little more
than a third part of that sum out of an estate which has come quite
by a chance into my hands? You, who like a true patriot have the
same affection for this our common country, will agree with me in
opinion, I feel sure. I wish therefore you would, at the next
meeting of the Decurii, acquaint them, just briefly and
respectfully, as to how the law stands in this case, and then add
that I offer them four hundred thousand sesterces according to the
direction in Saturninus' will. You will represent this donation as
his present and his liberality; I only claim the merit of complying
with his request. I did not trouble to write to their senate about
this, fully relying as I do upon our intimate friendship and your
wise discretion, and being quite satisfied that you are both able and
willing to act for me upon this occasion as I would for my~ self;
besides, I was afraid I should not seem to have so cautiously
guarded my expressions in a letter as you will be able to do in a
speech. The countenance, the gesture, and even the tone of voice
govern and determine the sense of the speaker, whereas a letter,
being without these advantages, is more liable to malignant
misinterpretation. Farewell.

LIV

To MARCELLINUS

I WRITE this to you in the deepest sorrow: the youngest daughter
of my friend Fundanus is dead! I have never seen a more cheerful
and more lovable girl, or one who better deserved to have enjoyed
a long, I had almost said an immortal, life! She was scarcely
fourteen, and yet there was in her a wisdom far beyond her years, a
matronly gravity united with girlish sweetness and virgin
bashfulness. With what an endearing fondness did she hang on her
father's neck! How affectionately and modestly she used to greet us
his friends! With what a tender and deferential regard she used to
treat her nurses, tutors, teachers, each in their respective offices!
What an eager, industrious, intelligent, reader she was! She took
few amusements, and those with caution. How self-controlled,
how patient, how brave, she was, under her last illness! She
complied with all the directions of her physicians; she spoke
cheerful, comforting words to her sister and her father; and when
all her bodily strength was exhausted, the vigour of her mind
sustained her. That indeed continued even to her last moments,
unbroken by the pain of a long illness, or the terrors of
approaching death; and it is a reflection which makes us miss her,
and grieve that she has gone from us, the more. 0 melancholy,
untimely, loss, too truly! She was engaged to an excellent young
man; the wedding-day was fixed, and we were all invited. How our
joy has been turned into sorrow! I cannot express in words the
inward pain I felt when I heard Fundanus himself (as grief is ever
finding out fresh circumstances to aggravate its affliction) ordering
the money he had intended laying out upon clothes, pearls, and
jewels for her marriage, to be employed in frankincense,
ointments, and perfumes for her funeral. He is a man of great
learning and good sense, who has applied himself from his earliest
youth to the deeper studies and the fine arts, but all the maxims of
fortitude which he has received from books, or advanced himself,
he now absolutely rejects, and every other virtue of his heart gives
place to all a parent's tenderness. You will excuse, you will even
approve, his grief, when you consider what he has lost. He has lost
a daughter who resembled him in his manners, as well as his
person, and exactly copied out all her father. So, if you should
think proper to write to him upon the subject of so reasonable a
grief, let me remind you not to use the rougher arguments of
consolation, and such as seem to carry a sort of reproof with them,
but those of kind and sympathizing humanity. Time will render
him more open to the dictates of reason: for as a fresh wound
shrinks back from the hand of the surgeon, but by degrees submits
to, and even seeks of its own accord the means of its cure, so a
mind under the first impression of a misfortune shuns and rejects
all consolations, but at length desires and is lulled by their gentle
application. Farewell.

LV

To SPURINNA

KNOWING, as I do, how much you admire the polite arts, and
what satisfaction you take in seeing young men of quality pursue
the steps of their ancestors, I seize this earliest opportunity of
informing you that I went to-day to hear Calpurnius Piso read a
beautiful and scholarly production of his, entiled the Sports of
Love. His numbers, which were elegiac, were tender, sweet, and
flowing, at the same time that they occasionally rose to all the
sublimity of diction which the nature of his subject required. He
varied his style from the lofty to the simple, from the close to the
copious, from the grave to the florid, with equal genius and
judgment. These beauties were further recommended by a most
harmonious voice; which a very becoming aiodesty rendered still
more pleasing. A confusion and concern in the countenance of a
speaker imparts a grace to all he utters; for diffidence, I know not
how, is infinitely more engaging than assurance and
self-sufficiency. I might mention several other circumstances to his
advantage, which I am the more inclined to point out, as they are
exceedingly striking in one of his age, and are most uncommon in
a youth of his quality: but not to enter into a farther detail of his
merit, I will only add that, when he had finished his poem, I
embraced him very heartily, and being persuaded that nothing is a
greater encouragement than applause, I exhorted him to go on as
he had begun, and to shine out to posterity with the same glorious
lustre, which was reflected upon him from his ancestors. I
congratulated his excellent mother, and particularly his brother,
who gained as much honour by the generous affection he
manifested upon this occasion as Calpurnius did by his eloquence;
so remarkable a solicitude he showed for him when he began to
recite his poem, and so much pleasure in his success. May the gods
grant me frequent occasions of giving you accounts of this nature!
for I have a partiality to the age in which I live, and should rejoice
to find it not barren of merit. I ardently wish, therefore, our young
men of quality would have something else to show of honourable
memorial in their houses than the images80 of their ancestors. As
for those which are placed in the mansion of these excellent
youths, I now figure them to myself as silently applauding and
encouraging their pursuits, and (what is a sufficient degree of
honour to both brothers) as recognizing their kindred. Farewell.

LVI

To PAULINUS

As I know the humanity with which you treat your own servants, I
have less reserve in confessing to you the indulgence I shew to
mine. I have ever in my mind that line of Homer's--

"Who swayed his people with a father's love":

and this expression of ours, "father of a family." But were I harsher
and harder than I really am by nature, the ill state of health of my
freedman Zosimus (who has the stronger claim upon my
tenderness, in that he now stands in more especial need of it)
would be sufficient to soften me. He is a good, honest fellow,
attentive in his services, and well-read; but his chief talent, and
indeed his distinguishing qualification, is that of a comedian, in
which he highly excels. His pronunciation is distinct, correct in
emphasis, pure, and graceful: he has a very skilled touch, too, upon
the lyre, and performs with better execution than is necessary for
one of his profession. To this I must add, he reads history, oratory,
and poetry, as well as if these had been the sole objects of his
study. I am the more particular in enumerating his qualifications,
to let you see how many agreeable services I receive from this one
servant alone. He is indeed endeared to me by the ties of a long
affection, which are strengthened by the danger he is now in. For
nature has so formed our hearts that nothing contributes more to
incite and kindle affection than the fear of losing the object of it: a
fear which I have suffered more than once on his account. Some
years ago he strained himself so much by too strong an exertion of
his voice, that he spit blood, upon which account I sent him into
Egypt;81 from whence, after a long absence, helately returned with
great benefit to his health. But having again exerted himself for
several days together beyond his strength, he was reminded of his
former malady by a slight return of his cough, and a spitting of
blood. For this reason I intend to send him to your farm at
Forum-Julii,82 having frequently heard you mention it as a healthy
air, and recommend the milk of that place as very salutary in
disorders of his nature. I beg you would give directions to your
people to receive him into your house, and to supply him with
whatever he may have occasion for: which will not be much, for
he is so sparing and abstemious as not only to abstain from
delicacies, but even to deny himself the necessaries his ill state of
health requires. I shall furnish him towards his journey with what
will be sufficient for one of his moderate requirements, who is
coming under your roof. Farewell.

LVII

To RUFUS

I WENT into the Julian83 court to hear those lawyers to whom,
according to the last adjournment, I was to reply. The judges had
taken their seats, the decemviri84 were arrived, the eyes of the
audience were fixed upon the counsel, and all was hushed silence
and expectation, when a messenger arrived from the praetor, and
the Hundred are at once dismissed, and the case postponed: an
accident extremely agreeable to me, who am never so well
prepared but that I am glad of gaining further time. The occasion
of the court's rising thus abruptly was a short edict of Nepos, the
praetor for criminal causes, in which he directed all persons
concerned as plaintiffs or defendants in any cause before him to
take notice that he designed strictly to put in force the decree of
the senate annexed to his edict. Which decree was expressed in the
following words: ALL PERSONS WHOSOEVER THAT HAVE
ANY LAW-SUITS DEPENDING ARE HEREBY REQUIRED
AND COMMANDED, BEFORE ANY PROCEEDINGS BE HAD
THEREON, TO TAKE AN OATH THAT THEY HAVE NOT
GIVEN, PROMISED, OR ENGAGED To GIVE, ANY FEE OR
REWARD TO ANY ADVOCATE, UPON ACCOUNT OF HIS
UNDERTAKING THEIR CAUSE. In these terms, and many
others equally full and express, the lawyers were prohibited to
make their professions venal. However, after the case is decided,
they are permitted to accept a gratuity of ten thousand sesterces.85
The praetor for civil causes, being alarmed at this order of Nepos,
gave us this unexpected holiday in order to take time to consider
whether he should follow the example. Meanwhile the whole town
is talking, and either approving or condemning this edict of Nepos.
We have got then at last (say the latter with a sneer) a redressor of
abuses. But pray was there never a praetor before this man? Who is
he then who sets up in this way for a public reformer? Others, on
the contrary, say, "He has done perfectly right upon his entry into
office; he has paid obedience to the laws; considered the decrees
of the senate, repressed most indecent contracts, and will not
suffer the most honourable of all professions to be debased into a
sordid lucre traffic." This is what one hears all around one; but
which side may prevail, the event will shew. It is the usual method
of the world (though a very unequitable rule of estimation) to
pronounce an action either right or wrong, according as it is
attended with good or ill success; in consequence of which you
may hear the very same conduct attributed to zeal or folly, to
liberty or licentiousness, upon different several occasions.
Farewell.

LVIII

To ARRIANUS

SOMETIMES I miss Regulus in our courts. I cannot say I deplore
his loss. The man, it must be owned, highly respected his
profession, grew pale with study and anxiety over it, and used to
write out his speeches though he could not get them by heart.
There was a practice he had of painting round his right or left
eye,86 and wearing a white patch87 over one side or the other of
his forehead, according as he was to plead either for the plaintiff
or defendant; of consulting the soothsayers upon the issue of an
action; still, all this excessive superstition was really due to his
extreme earnestness in his profession. And it was acceptable
enough being concerned in the same cause with him, as he always
obtained full indulgence in point of time, and never failed to get an
audience together; for what could be more convenient than, under
the protection of a liberty which you did not ask yourself, and all
the odium of the arrangement resting with another, and before an
audience which you had not the trouble of collecting, to speak on
at your ease, and as long as you thought proper? Nevertheless
Regulus did well in departing this life, though he would have done
much better had he made his exit sooner. He might really have
lived now without any danger to the public, in the reign of a prince
under whom he would have had no opportunity of doing any harm.
I need not scruple therefore, I think, to say I sometimes miss him:
for since his death the custom has prevailed of not allowing, nor
indeed of asking more than an hour or two to plead in, and
sometimes not above half that time. The truth is, our advocates
take more pleasure in finishing a cause than in defending it; and
our judges had rather rise from the bench than sit upon it: such is
their indolence, and such their indifference to the honour of
eloquence and the interest of justice! But are we wiser than our
ancestors? are we more equitable than the laws which grant so
many hours and days of adjournments to a case? were our
forefathers slow of apprehension, and dull beyond measure? and
are we clearer of speech, quicker in our conceptions, or more
scrupulous in our decisions, because we get over our causes in
fewer hours than they took days? O Regulus! it was by zeal in your
profession that you secured an advantage which is but rarely given
to the highest integrity. As for myself, whenever I sit upon the
bench (which is much oftener than I appear at the bar), I always
give the advocates as much time as they require: for I look upon it
as highly presuming to pretend to guess, before a case is heard,
what time it will require, and to set limits to an affair before one is
acquainted with its extent; especially as the first and most sacred
duty of a judge is patience, which constitutes an important part of
justice. But this, it is objected, would give an opening to much
superfluous matter: I grant it may; yet is it not better to hear too
much than not to hear enough? Besides, how shall you know that
what an advocate has farther to offer will be superfluous, until you
have heard him? But this, and many other public abuses, will be
best reserved for a conversation when we meet; for I know your
affection to the commonwealth inclines you to wish that some
means might be found out to check at least those grievances,
which would now be very difficult absolutely to remove. But to
return to affairs of private concern: I hope all goes well in your
family; mine remains in its usual situation. The good which I enjoy
grows more acceptable to me by its contjnu~nce; as habit renders
me less sensible of the evils I suffer. Farewell.

LIX

To CALPURNIA88

NEVER was business more disagreeable to me than when it
prevented me not only from accompanyinng you when you went
into Campania for your health, but from following you there soon
after; for I want particularly to be with you now, that I may learn
from my own eyes whether you are growing stronger and stouter,
and whether the tranquillity, the amusements, and plenty of that
charming country really agree with you. Were you in perfect
health, yet I could ill support your absence; for even a moment's
uncertainty of the welfare of those we tenderly love causes a
feeling of suspense and anxiety: but now your sickness conspires
with your absence to trouble me grievously with vague and various
anxieties. I dread everything, fancy everything, and, as is natural to
those who fear, conjure up the very things I most dread. Let me the
more earnestly entreat you then to think of my anxiety, and write
to me every day, and even twice a day: I shall be more easy, at
least while I am reading your letters, though when I have read
them, I shall immediately feel my fears again. Farewell.

LX

To CALPURNIA

You kindly tell me my absence very sensibly affects you, and that
your only consolation is in conversing with my works, which you
frequently substitute in my stead. I am glad that you miss me; I am
glad that you find some rest in these alleviations. In return, I read
over your letters again and again, and am continually taking them
up, as if I had just received them; but, alas! this only stirs in me a
keener longing for you; for how sweet must her conversation be
whose letters have so many charms? Let me receive them,
however, as often as possible, notwithstanding there is still a
mixture of pain in the pleasure they afford me. Farewell.

LXI

To PRISCUS

You know Attilius Crescens, and you love him; who is there,
indeed, of any rank or worth, that does not? For myself, I profess
to have a friendship for him far exceeding ordinary attachments of
the world. Our native towns are separated only by a day's journey;
and we got to care for each other when we were very young; the
season for passionate friendships. Ours improved by years; and so
far from being chilled, it was confirmed by our riper judgments, as
those who know us best can witness. He takes pleasure in boasting
everywhere of my friendship; as I do to let the world know that his
reputation, his ease, and his interest are my peculiar concern.
Insomuch that upon his expressing to me some apprehension of
insolent treatment from a certain person who was entering upon
the tribuneship of the people, I could not forbear answering, -

"Long as Achilles breathes this vital air,
To touch thy head no impious band shall dare."89

What is my object in telling you these things? Why, to shew you
that I look upon every injury offered to Attilius as done to myself.
"But what is the object of all this?" you repeat. You must know
then, Valerius Varus, at his death, owed Attilius a sum of money.
Though I am on friendly terms with Maximus, his heir, yet there is
a closer friendship between him and you. I beg therefore, and
entreat you by the affection you have for me, to take care that
Attilius is not only paid the capital which is due to him, but alt the
long arrears of interest too. He neither covets the property of
others nor neglects the care of his own; and as he is not engaged in
any lucrative profession, he has nothing to depend upon but his
own frugality: for as to literature, in which he greatly distinguishes
himself, he pursues this merely from motives of pleasure and
ambition. In such a situation, the slightest loss presses hard upon a
man, and the more so because he has no opportunities of repairing
any injury done to his fortune. Remove then, I entreat you, our
uneasiness, and suffer me still to enjoy the pleasure of  his wit and
bonhommie; for I cannot bear to see the cheerfulness of my friend
over-clouded, whose mirth and good humour dissipates every
gloom of melancholy in myself. In short, you know what a
pleasant entertaining fellow he is, and I hope you will not suffer
any injury to engloom and embitter his disposition. You may judge
by the warmth of his affection how severe his resentments would
prove; for a generous and great mind can ill brook an injury when
coupled with contempt. But though he could pass it over, yet
cannot I: on the contrary, I shall regard it as a wrong and indignity
done to myself, and resent it as one offered to my friend; that is,
with double warmth. But, after all, why this air of threatening?
rather let me end in the same style in which I began, namely, by
begging, entreating you so to act in this affair that neither Attilius
may have reason to imagine (which I am exceedingly anxious he
should not) that I neglect his interest, nor that I may have occasion
to charge you with carelessness of mine: as undoubtedly I shall not
if you have the same regard for the latter as I have for the former.
Farewell.

LXII

To ALBINUS

I WAS lately at Alsium,90 where my mother-in-law has a villa
which once belonged to Verginius Rufus. The place renewed in
my mind the sorrowful remembrance of that-great and excellent
man. He was extremely fond of this retirement, and used to call it
the nest of his old age. Whichever way I looked, I missed him, I
felt his absence. I had an inclination to visit his monument; but I
repented having seen it, afterwards: for I found it still unfinished,
and this, not from any difficulty residing in the work itself, for it is
very plain, or rather indeed slight; but through the neglect of him
to whose care it was entrusted. I could not see without a concern,
mixed with indignation, the remains of a man, whose fame filled
the whole world, lie for ten years after his death without an
inscription, or a name. He had however directed that the divine
and immortal action of his life should be recorded upon his tomb
in the following lines:

"Here Rufus lies, who Vindex' arms withstood,
Not for himself, but for his country's good."

But faithful friends are so rare, and the dead so soon forgotten, that
we shall be obliged ourselves to build even our very tombs, and
anticipate the office of our heirs. For who is there that has no
reason to fear for himself what we see has happened to Verginius,
whose eminence and distinction, while rendering such treatment
more shameful, so, in the same way, make it more notorious?
Farewell.

LXIII

To MAXIMUS

O WHAT a happy day I lately spent! I was called by the prefect of
Rome, to assist him in a certain case, and had the pleasure of
hearing two excellent young men, Fuscus Salinator and Numidius
Quadratus, plead on the opposite sides: their worth is equal, and
each of them will one day, I am persuaded, prove an ornament not
only to the present age, but to literature itself. They evinced upon
this occasion an admirable probity, supported by inflexible
courage: their dress was decent, their elocution distinct, their tones
were manly, their memory retentive, their genius elevated, and
guided by an equal solidity of judgment. I took infinite pleasure in
observing them display these noble qualities; particnlarly as I had
the satisfaction to see that, while they looked upon me as their
guide and model, they appeared to the audience as my imitators
and rivals. It was a day (I cannot but repeat it again) which
afforded me the most exquisite happiness, and which I shall ever
distinguish with the fairest mark. For what indeed could be either
more pleasing to me on the public account than to observe two
such noble youths building their fame and glory upon the polite
arts; or more desirable upon my own than to be marked out as a
worthy example to them in their pursuits of virtue? May the gods
still grant me the continuance of that pleasure! And I implore the
same gods, you are my witness, to make all these who think me
deserving of imitation far better than I am, Farewell.

LXIV

To ROMANUS

You were not present at a very singular occurrence here lately:
neither was I, but the story reached me just after it had happened.
Passienus Paulus, a Roman knight, of good family, and a man of
peculiar learning and culture besides~ composes elegies, a talent
which runs in the family, for Propertius is reckoned by him
amongst his ancestors, as well as being his countryman. He was
lately reciting a poem which began thus:

"Priscus, at thy command"--

Whereupon Javolenus Priscus, who happened to be present
as a particular friend of the poet's, cried out--" But he is mistaken, I
did not command him." Think what laughter and merriment this
occasioned. Priscus's wits, you must know, are reckoned rather
unsound,91 though he takes a share in public business, is
summoned to consultations, and even publicly acts as a lawyer, so
that this behaviour of his was the more remarkable and ridiculous:
meanwhile Paulus was a good deal disconcerted by his friend's
absurdity. You see how necessary it is for those who are anxious to
recite their works in public to take care that the audience as well as
the author are perfectly sane. Farewell.

LXV

To TACITUS

YOUR request that I would send you an account of my uncle's
death, in order to transmit a more exact relation of it to posterity,
deserves my acknowledgments; for, if this accident shall be
celebrated by your pen, the glory of it, I am well assured, will be
rendered forever illustrious. And notwithstanding he perished by a
misfortune, which, as it involved at the same time a most beautiful
country in ruins, and destroyed so many populous cities, seems to
promise him an everlasting remembrance; notwithstanding he has
himself composed many and lasting works; yet I am persuaded, the
mentioning of him in your immortal writings, will greatly
contribute to render his name immortal. Happy I esteem those to
be to whom by provision of the gods has been granted the ability
either to do such actions as are worthy of being related or to relate
them in a manner worthy of being read; but peculiarly happy are
they who are blessed with both these uncommon talents: in the
number of which my uncle, as his own writings and your
history will evidently prove, may justly be ranked. It is with
extreme willingness, therefore, that I execute your commands; and
should indeed have claimed the task if you had not enjoined it. He
was at that time with the fleet under his command at Misenum.92
On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother
desired him to observe a cloud which appeared of a very unusual
size and shape. He had just taken a turn in the sun93 and, after
bathing himself in cold water, and making a light luncheon, gone
back to his books: he immediately arose and went out upon a rising
ground from whence he might get a better sight of this very
uncommon appearance. A cloud, from which mountain was
uncertain, at this distance (but it was found afterwards to come
from Mount Vesuvius), was ascending, the appearance of which I
cannot give you a more exact description of than by likening it to
that of a pine tree, for it shot up to a great height in the form of a
very tall trunk, which spread itself out at the top into a sort of
branches; occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air that
impelled it, the force of which decreased as it advanced upwards,
or the cloud itself being pressed back again by its own weight,
expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it appeared sometimes
bright and sometimes dark and spotted, according as it was either
more or less impregnated with earth and cinders. This
phenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and research as my
uncle extraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a
light vessel to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to
accompany him. I said I had rather go on with my work; and it so
happened, he had himself given me something to write out. As he
was coming out of the house, he received a note from Rectina, the
wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at the imminent
danger which threatened her; for her villa lying at the foot of
Mount Vesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea; she
earnestly entrealed him therefore to come to her assistance. He
accordingly changed his first intention, and what he had begun
from a philosophical, he now carries out in a noble and generous
spirit. He ordered the galleys to be put to sea, and went himself on
board with an intention of assisting not only Rectina, but the
several other towns which lay thickly strewn along that beautiful
coast. Hastening then to the place from whence others fled with
the utmost terror, he steered his course direct to the point of
danger, and with so much calmness and presence of mind as to be
able to make and dictate his observations upon the motion and all
the phenomena of that dreadful scene. He was now so close to the
mountain that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter the
nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice-
stones, and black pieces of burning rock: they were in danger too
not only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, but also
from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain,
and obstructed all the shore. Here he stopped to consider whether
he should turn back again; to which the pilot advising him,
"Fortune," said he, "favours the brave; steer to where Pomponianus
is." Pomponianus was then at Stabiae,94 separated by a bay, which
the sea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore. He
had already sent his baggage on board; for though he was not at
that time in actual danger, yet being within sight of it, and indeed
extremely near, if it should in the least increase, he was
determined to put to sea as soon as the wind, which was blowing
dead in-shore, should go down. It was favourable, however, for
carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest
consternation: he embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging
him to keep up his spirits, and, the more effectually to soothe his
fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got
ready, and then, after having bathed, sat down to supper with great
cheerfulness, or at least (what is just as heroic) with every
appearance of it. Meanwhile broad flames shone out in several
places from Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the night
contributed to render still brighter and clearer. But my uncle, in
order to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it was
only the burning of the villages, which the country people had
abandoned to the flames: after this he retired to rest, and it is most
certain he was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep: for
his breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was rather
heavy and sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside. The
court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with
stones and ashes, if he had continued there any time longer, it
would have been impossible for him to have made his way out. So
he was awoke and got up, and went to Pomponianus and the rest of
his company, who were feeling too anxious to think of going to
bed. They consulted together whether it would be most prudent to
trust to the houses, which now rocked from side to side with
frequent and violent concussions as though shaken from their very
foundations; or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stones
and cinders, though light indeed, yet fell in large showers, and
threatened destruction. In this choice of dangers they resolved for
the fields: a resolution which, while the rest of the company were
hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and
deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied
upon their heads with napkins; and this was their whole defence
against the storm of stones that fell round them. It was now day
everywhere else, but there a deeper darkness prevai1ed than in the
thickest night; which howevcr was in some degree alleviated by
torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought proper to
go farther down upon the shore to see if they might safely put out
to sea, but found the waves still running extremely high, and
boisterous. There my uncle, laying himself down upon a sail cloth,
which was spread for him, called twice for some cold water, which
he drank, when immediately the flames, preceded by a strong
whiff of sulphur, dispersed the rest of the party, and obliged him to
rise. He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his
servants, and instantly fell down dead; suffocated, as I conjecture,
by some gross and noxious vapour, having always had a weak
throat, which was often inflamed. As soon as it was light again,
which was not till the third day after this melancholy accident, his
body was found entire, and without any marks of violence upon it,
in the dress in which he fell, and looking more like a man asleep
than dead. During all this time my mother and I, who were at
Miscnum--but this has no connection with your history, and you
did not desire any particulars besides those of my uncle's death; so
I will end here, only adding that I have faithfully related to you
what I was either an eye-witness of myself or received
immediately after the accident happened, and before there was
time to vary the truth. You will pick out of this narrative whatever
is most important: for a letter is one thing, a history another; it is
one thing wrIting to a friend, another thing writing to the public.
Farewell.

LXVI

To CORNELIUS TACITUS

THE letter which, in compliance with your request, I wrote to you
concerning the death of my uncle has raised, it seems, your
curiosity to know what terrors and dangers attended me while I
continued at Misenum; for there, I think, my account broke off:

"Though my shock'd soul recoils, my tongue shall tell."

My uncle having left us, I spent such time as was left on my
studies (it was on their account indeed that I had stopped behind),
till it was time for my bath. After which I went to supper, atmd
then fell into a short and uneasy sleep. There had been noticed for
many days before a trembling of the earth, which did not alarm us
much, as this is quite an ordinary occurrence in Campania; but it
was so particularly violent that night that it not only shook but
actually overturned, as it would seem, everything about us. My
mother rushed into my chamber, where she found me rising, in
order to awaken her. We sat down in the open court of the house,
which occupied a small space between the buildings and the sea.
As I was at that time but eighteen years of age, I know not whether
I should call my behaviour, in this dangerous juncture, courage or
folly; but I took up Livy, and amused myself with turning over that
author, and even making extracts from him, as if I had been
perfectly at my leisure. Just then, a friend of my uncle's, who had
lately come to him from Spain, joined us, and observing me sitting
by my mother with a book in my hand, reproved her for her
calmness, and me at the same time for my careless security:
nevertheless I went on with my author. Though it was now
morning, the light was still exceedingly faint and doubtful; the
buildings all around us tottered, and though we stood upon open
ground, yet as the place was narrow and confined, there was no
remaining without imminent danger: we therefore resolved to quit
the town. A panic-stricken crowd followed us, and (as to a mind
distracted with terror every suggestion seems more prudent than its
own) pressed on us in dense array to drive us forward as we came
out. Being at a convenient distance from the houses, we stood still,
in the midst of a most dangerous and dreadful scene. The chariots,
which we had ordered to be drawn out, were so agitated backwards
and forwards, though upon the most level ground, that we could
not keep them steady, even by supporting them with large stones.
The sea seemed to roll back upon itself, and to he driven from its
banks by the convulsive motion of the earth; it is certain at least
the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea animals were
left upon it. On the other side, a black and dreadful cloud, broken
with rapid, zigzag flashes, revealed behind it variously shaped
masses of flame: these last were like sheet-lightning, but much
larger. Upon this our Spanish friend, whom I mentioned above,
addressing himself to my mother and me with great energy and
urgency: " If your brother," he said, "if your uncle be safe, he
certainly wishes you may be so too; but if he perished, it was his
desire, no doubt, that you might both survive him: why therefore
do you delay your escape a moment?" We could never think of our
own safety, we said, while we were uncertain of his. Upon this our
friend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmost
precipitation. Soon afterwards, the cloud began to descend, and
cover the sea. It had already surrounded and concealed the island
of Capreae and the promontory of Misenum. My mother now
besought, urged, even commanded me to make my escape at any
rate, which, as I was young, I might easily do; as for herself, she
said, her age and corpulency rendered all attempts of that sort
impossible; however, she would willingly meet death if she could
have the satisfaction of seeing that she was not the occasion of
mine. But I absolutely refused to leave her, and, taking her by the
hand, compelled her to go with me. She complied with great
reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself for
retarding my flight. The ashes now began to fall upon us, though in
no great quantity. I looked back; a dense dark mist seemed to be
following us, spreading itself over the country like a cloud. "Let us
turn out of the high-road," I said, "while we can still see, for fear
that, should we fall in the road, we should be pressed to death in
the dark, by the crowds that are following us." We had scarcely sat
down when night came upon us, not such as we have when the sky
is cloudy, or when there is no moon, but that of a room when it is
shut up, and all the lights put out. You might hear the shrieks of
women, the screams of children, and the shouts of men; some
calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their
husbands, and seeking to recognise each other by the voices that
replied; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family;
some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting their
hands to the gods; but the greater part convinced that there were
now no gods at all, and that the final endless night of which we
have heard had come upon the world.95 Among these there were
some who augmented the real terrors by others imaginary or
wilfully invented. I remember some who declared that one part of
Misenum had fallen, that another was on fire; it was false, but they
found people to believe them. It now grew rather lighter, which we
imagined to be rather the forerunner of an approaching burst of
flames (as in truth it was) than the return of day: however, the fire
fell at a distance from us: then again we were immersed in thick
darkness, and a heavy shower of ashes rained upon us, which we
were obliged every now and then to stand up to shake off,
otherwise we should have been crushed and buried in the heap. I
might boast that, during all this scene of horror, not a sigh, or
expression of  fear, escaped me, had not my support been
grounded in that miserable, though mighty, consolation, that all
mankind were involved in the same calamity, and that I was
perishing with the world itself. At last this dreadful darkness was
dissipated by degrees, like a cloud or smoke; the real day returned,
and even the sun shone out, though with a lurid light, like when an
eclipse is coming on. Every object that presented itself to our eyes
(which were extremely weakened) seemed changed, being covered
deep with ashes as if with snow. We returned to Misenum, where
we refreshed ourselves as well as we could, and passed an anxious
night between hope and fear; though, indeed, wIth a much larger
share of the latter: for the earthquake still continued, while many
frenzied persons ran up and down heightening their own and their
friends' calamities by terrible predictions. However, my mother
and I, notwithstanding the danger we had passed, and that which
still threatened us, had no thoughts of leaving the place, till we
could receive some news of my uncle.

And now, you will read this narrative without any view of inserting
it in your history, of which it is not in the least worthy; and indeed
you must put it down to your own request if it should appear not
worth even the trouble of a letter. Farewell.

LX VII

To MACER

How much does the fame of human actions depend upon the
station of those who perform them! The very same conduct shall
be either applauded to the skies or entirely overlooked, just as it
may happen to proceed from a person of conspicuous or obscure
rank. I was sailing lately upon our lake,96 with an old man of my
acquaintance, who desired me to observe a villa situated upon its
banks, which had a chamber overhanging the water. "From that
room," said he, "a woman of our city threw herself and her
husband." Upon enquiring into the cause, he informed me, "That
her husband having been long afflicted with an ulcer in those parts
which modesty conceals, she prevailed with him at last to let her
inspect the sore, assuring him at the same timethat she would most
sincerely give her opinion whether there was a possibility of its
being cured. Accordingly, upon viewing the ulcer, she found the
case hopeless, and therefore advised him to put an end to his life:
she herself accompanying him, even leading the way by her
example, and being actually the means of his death; for tying
herself to her husband, she plunged with him into the lake."
Though this happened in the very city where I was born, I never
heard it mentioned before; and yet that this action is taken less
notice of than that famous one of Arria's, is not because it was less
remarkable, but because the person who performed it was more
obscure. Farewell.

LXVIII

To SERVIANUS

I AM extremely glad to hear that you intend your daughter for
Fuscus Salinator, and congratulate you upon it. His family is
patrician,97 and both his father and mother are persons of the most
distinguished merit. As for himself, he is studious, learned, and
eloquent, and, with all the innocence of a child, unites the
sprightliness of youth and the wisdom of age. I am not, believe me,
deceived by my affection, when I give him this character; for
though I love him, I confess, beyond measure (as his friendship
and esteem for me well deserve), yet partiality has no share in my
judgment: on the contrary, the stronger my affection for him, the
more exactingly I weigh his merit. I will venture, then, to assure
you (and I speak it upon my own experience) you could not have,
formed to your wishes, a more accomplished son-in-law. May he
soon present you with a grandson, who shall be the exact copy of
his father! and with what pleasure shall I receive from the arms of
two such friends their children or grand-children, whom I shall
claim a sort of right to embrace as my own! Farewell,

LXIX

To SEVERUS

You desire me to consider what turn you should give to your
speech in honour of the emperor,98 upon your being appointed
consul elect.99 It is easy to find copies, not so easy to choose out
of them; for his virtues afford such abundant material. However, I
will write and give you my opinion, or (what I should prefer) I will
let you have it in person, after having laid before you the
difficulties which occur to me. I am doubtful, then, whether I
should advise you to pursue the method which I observed myself
on the same occasion, When I was consul elect, I avoided running
into the usual strain of compliment, which, however far from
adulation, might yet look like it. Not that I affected firmness and
independence; but, as well knowing the sentiments of our amiable
prince, and being thoroughly persuaded that the highest praise I
could offer to him would be to show the world I was under no
necessity of paying him any. When I reflected what profusion of
honours had been heaped upon the very worst of his predecessors,
nothing, I imagined, could more distinguish a prince of his real
virtues from those infamous emperors than to address him in a
different manner. And this I thought proper to observe in my
speech, lest it might be suspected I passed over his glorious acts,
not out of judgment, but inattention. Such was the method I then
observed; but I am sensible the same measures are neither
agreeable nor indeed suitable to all alike. Besides the propriety of
doing or omitting a thing depends not only upon persons, but time
and circumstances; and as the late actions of our illustrious prince
afford materials for panegyric, no less just than recent and
glorious, I doubt (as I said before) whether I should persuade you
in the present instance to adopt the same plan as I did myself. In
this, however, I am clear, that it was proper to offer you by way of
advice the method I pursued. Farewell.

LXX

To FABATUS

I HAVE the best reason, certainly, for celebrating your birthday as
my own, since all the happiness of mine arises from yours, to
whose care and diligence it is owing that I am gay here and at my
ease in town.--Your Camillian villa100 in Campania has suffered
by the injuries of time, and is falling into decay; however, the most
valuable parts of the building either remain entire or are but
slightly damaged, and it shall be my care to see it put into
thorough repair.--Though I flatter myself I have many friends, yet I
have scarcely any of the sort you enquire after, and which the
affair you mention demands. All mine lie among those whose
employments engage them in town; whereas the conduct of
country business requires a person of a robust constitution, and
bred up to the country, to whom the work may not seem hard, nor
the office beneath him, and who does not feel a solitary life
depressing. You think most highly of Rufus, for he was a great
friend of your son's; but of what use he can be to us upon this
occasion, I cannot conceive; though I am sure he will be glad to do
all he can for us. Farewell.

LXXI

To CORNELIANUS

I RECEIvED lately the most exquisite satisfaction at
Centumcellae101 (as it is now called), being summoned thither by
Caesar102 to attend a council. Could anything indeed afford a
higher pleasure than to see the emperor exercising his justice, his
wisdom, and his affability, even in retirement, where those virtues
are most observable? Various were the points brought in judgment
before him, and which proved, in so many different instances, the
excellence of the judge. The cause of Claudius Ariston came on
first. He is an Ephesian nobleman, of great munificence and
unambitious popularity, whose virtues have rendered him
obnoxious to a set of people of far different characters; they had
instigated an informer against him, of the same infamous stamp
with themselves; but he was honourably acquitted. The next day,
the case of Galitta, accused of adultery, was heard. Her husband,
who is a military tribune, was upon the point of offering himself as
a candidate for certain honours at Rome, but she had stained her
own good name and his by an intrigue with a centurion.103 The
husband informed the consul's lieutenant, who wrote to the
emperor about it. Caesar, having thoroughly sifted the evidence,
cashiered the centurion, and sentenced him to banishment. It
remained that some penalty should be inflicted likewise upon the
other party, as it is a crime of which both must necessarily be
equally guilty. But the husband's affection for his wife inclined
him to drop that part of  the prosecution, not without some
reflections on his forbearance; for he continued to live with her
even after he had commenced this prosecution, content, it would
seem, with having removed his rival. But he was ordered to
proceed in the suit: and, though he complied with great reluctance,
it was necessary, nevertheless, that she should be condemned.
Accordingly, she was sentenced to the punishment directed by the
Julian law.104 The emperor thought proper to specify, in his
decree, the name and office of the centurion, that it might appear
he passed it in virtue of military discipline; lest it should be
imagined he claimed a particular cognizance in every cause of the
same nature. The third day was employed in examining into an
affair which had occasioned a good deal of talk and various
reports; it was concerning the codicils of Julius Tiro, part of which
was plainly genuine, while the other part, it was alleged, was
forged. The persons accused of this fraud were Sempronius
Senecio, a Roman knight, and Eurythmus, Caesar's freedman and
proacurator.105 The heirs jointly petitioned the emperor, when he
was in Dacia,106 that he would reserve to himself the trial of this
cause; to which he consented. On his return from that expedition,
he appointed a day for the hearing; and when some of the heirs, as
though out of respect to Eurythmus, offered to withdraw the suit,
the emperor nobly replied, "He is not Polycletus,107 nor am I
Nero." However, he indulged the petitioners with an adjournment,
and the time being expired, he now sat to hear the cause. Two of
the heirs appeared, and desired that either their whole number
might be compelled to plead, as they had all joined in the
information, or that they also might have leave to withdraw.
Caesar delivered his opinion with great dignity and moderation;
and when the counsel on the part of Senecio and Eurythmus had
represented that unless their clients were heard, they would remain
under the suspicion of guilt,-- "I am not concerned," said the
emperor, "what suspicions they may lie under, it is I that am
suspected;" and then turning to us, "Advise me," said he, "how to
act in this affair, for you see they complain when allowed to
withdraw their suit." At length, by the advice of the counsel, he
'ordered notice to be given to the heirs that they should either
proceed with the case or each of themjustify their reasons for not
doing so; otherwise that he would pass scntcnce upon them as
calumniators.108 Thus you see how usefully and seriously we
spent our time, which however was diversified with amusements
of the most agreeable kind. We were every day invited to Caesar's
table, which, for so great a prince, was spread with much plainness
and simplicity. There we were either entertained with interludes or
passed the night in the most pleasing conversation. When we took
our leave of him the last day, he made each of us presents; so
studiously polite is Caesar! As for myself, I was not only charmed
with the dignity and wisdom of the judge, the honour done to the
assessors, the ease and unreserved freedom of our social
intercourse, but with the exquisite situation of the place itself. This
delightful villa is surrounded by the greenest meadows, and
overlooks the shore, which bends inwards, forming a complete
harbour. The left arm of this port is defended by exceedingly
strong works, while the right is in process of completion. An
artificial island, which rises at the mouth of the harbour, breaks the
force of the waves, and affords a safe passage to ships on either
side. This island is formed by a process worth seeing: stones of a
most enormous size are transported hither in a large sort of
pontoons, and being piled one upon the other, are fixed by their
own weight, gradually accumulating in the manner, as it were, of a
natural mound. It already lifts its rocky back above the ocean,
while the waves which beat upon it, being broken and tossed to an
immense height, foam with a prodigious noise, and whiten all the
surrounding sea. To these stones are added wooden piers, which in
process of time will give it the appearance of a natural island. This
haven is to be called by the name of its great author,109 and will
prove of infinite benefit, by affording a secure retreat to ships on
that extensive and dangerous coast. Farewell.

LXXII

To MAXIMUS

You did perfectly right in promising a gladiatorial combat to our
good friends the citizens of Verona, who have long loved, looked
up to, and honoured, you; while it was from that city too you
received that amiable object of your most tender affection, your
late excellent wife. And since you owed some monument or public
representation to her memory, what other spectacle could you have
exhibited more appropriate to the occasion? Besides, you were so
unanimously pressed to do so that to have refused would have
looked more like hardness than resolution. The readiness too with
which you granted their petition, and the magnificent manner in
which you performed it, is very much to your honour; for a
greatness of soul is seen in these smaller instances, as well as
in matters of higher moment. I wish the African panthers, which
you had largely provided for this purpose, had arrived on the day
appointed, but though they were delayed by the stormy weather,
the obligation to you is equally the same, since it was not yowr
fault that they were not exhibited. Farewell.

LXXIII

To RESTITUTUS

THIS obstinate illness of yours alarms me; and though I know how
extremely temperate you are, yet I fear lest your disease should get
the better of your moderation. Let me entreat you then to resist it
with a determined abstemiousness: a remedy, be assured, of all
others the most laudable as well as the most salutary. Human
nature itself admits the practicability of what I recommend: it is a
rule, at least, which I always enjoin my family to observe with
respect to myself. "I hope," I say to them, "that should I be
attacked with any disorder, I shall desire nothing of which I ought
either to be ashamed or have reason to repent; however, if my
distemper should prevail over my resolution, I forbid that anything
be given me but by the consent of my physicians; and I shall resent
your compliance with me in things improper as much as another
man would their refusal." I once had a most violent fever; when
the fit was a little abated, and I had been anointed,110 my
physician offered me something to drink; I held out my hand,
desiring he would first feel my pulse, and upon his not seeming
quite satisfied, I instantly returned the cup, though it was just at
my lips. Afterwards, when I was preparing to go into the bath,
twenty days from the first attack of my illness, perceiving the
physicians whispering together, I enquired what they were saying.
They replied they were of opinion I may possibly bathe with
safety, however that they were not without some suspicion of risk.
"What need is there," said I, "of my taking a bath at all?" And so,
with perfect calmness and tranquillity, I gave up a pleasure I was
upon the point of enjoying, and abstained from the bath as serenely
and composedly as though I were going into it. I mention this, not
only by way of enforcing my advice by example, but also that this
letter may be a sort of tie upon me to persevere in the same
resolute abstinence for the future. Farewell.

LXXIV

To CALPURNIA111

You will not believe what a longing for you possesses me. The
chief cause of this is my love; and then we have not grown used to
be apart. So it comes to pass that I lie awake a great part of the
night, thinking of you; and that by day, when the hours return at
which I was wont to visit you, my feet take me, as it is so truly
said, to your chamber, but not finding you there, I return, sick and
sad at heart, like an excluded lover. The only time that is free from
these torments is when I am being worn out at the bar, and in the
suits of my friends. Judge you what must be my life when I find
my repose in toil, my solace in wretchedness and anxiety.
Farewell.

LXXV

To MACRINUS

A VERY singular and remarkable accident has happened in the
affair of Varenus,112 the result of which is yet doubtful. The
Bithynians, it is said, have dropped their prosecution of him being
convinced at last that it was rashly undertaken. A deputy from that
province is arrived, who has brought with him a decree of their
assembly; copies of which he has delivered to Caesar,113 and to
several of the leading men in Rome, and also to us, the advocates
for Varenus. Magnus,114 nevertheless, whom I mentioned in my
last letter to you, persists in his charge, to support which he is
incessantly teazing the worthy Nigrinus. This excellent person was
counsel for him in his former petition to the consuls, that Varenus
might be compelled to produce his accounts. Upon this occasion,
as I attended Varenus merely as a fricnd, I determined to be silent.
I thought it highly imprudent for me, as I was appointed his
counsel by the senate, to attempt to defend him as an accused
person, when it was his business to insist that there was actually no
charge subsisting against him. However, when Nigrinus had
finished his speech, the consuls turning their eyes upon me, I rose
up, and, "When you shall hear," I said, "what the real deputies
from the province have to object against the motion of Nigrinus,
you will see that my silence was not without just reason." Upon
this Nigrinus asked me, "To whom are these deputies sent?" I
replied, "To me among others; I have the decree of the province in
my hands." He returned, "That is a point which, though it may be
clear to you, I am not so well satisfied of." To this I answered,
"Though it may not be so evident to you, who are concerned to
support the accusation, it may be perfectly clear to me, who am on
the more favourable side." Then Polyaenus, the deputy from the
province, acquainted the senate with the reasons for superseding
the prosecution, but desired it migh't be without prejudice to
Caesar's determination. Magnus answered him; Polyaenus replied;
as for myself, I only now and then threw in a word, observing in
general a complete silence. For I have learned that upon some
occasions it is as much an orator's business to be silent as to speak,
and I remember, in some criminal cases, to have done even more
service to my clients by a discreet silence than I could have
expected from the most carefully prepared speech. To enter into
the subject of eloquence is indeed very foreign to the purpose of
my letter, yet allow me to give you one instance in proof of
my last observation. A certain lady having lost her son suspected
that his freedmen, whom he had appointed coheirs with her, were
guilty of forging the will and poisoning him. Accordingly she
charged them with the fact before the emperor, who directed
Julianus Suburanus to try the cause. I was counsel for the
defendants, and the case being exceedingly remarkable, and the
counsel engaged on both sides of eminent ability, it drew together
a very numerous audience. The issue was, the servants being put to
the torture, my clients were acquitted. But the mother applied a
second time to the emperor, pretending she had discovered some
new evidence. Suburanus was therefore directed to bear the cause,
and see if she could produce any fresh proofs. Julius Africanus was
counsel for the mother, a young man of good parts, but slender
experience. He is grandson to the famous orator of that name, of
whom it is reported that Passienus Crispus, hearing him one day
plead, archly said, "Very fine, I must confess, very fine; but is all
this fine speaking to the purpose?" Julius Africanus, I say, having
made a long harangue, and exhausted the portion of time allotted
to him, said, "I beg you, Suburanus, to allow me to add one word
more." When he had concluded, and the eyes of the whole
assembly had been fixed a considerable time upon me, I rose up. "I
would have answered Africanus," said I, "if he had added that one
word he begged leave to do, in which I doubt not he would have
told us all that we had not heard before." I do not remember to
have gained so much applause by any speech that I ever made as I
did in this instance by making none. Thus the little that I had
hitherto said for Varenus was received with the same general
approbation. The consuls, agreeably to the request of Polyaenus,
reserved the whole affair for the determination of the emperor,
whose resolution I impatiently wait for; as that will decide whether
I may be entirely secure and easy with respect to Varenus, or must
again renew all my trouble and anxiety upon his account. Farewell.

LXXVI

To TUSCUS

You desire my opinion as to the method of study you should
pursue, in that retirement to which you have long. since
withdrawn. In the first place, then, I look upon it as a very
advantageous practice (and it is what many recommend) to
translate either from Greek into Latin or from Latin into Greek. By
this means you acquire propriety and dignity of expression, and a
variety of beautiful figures, and an ease and strength of exposition,
and in the imitation of the best models a facility of creating such
models for yourself. Besides, those things which you may possibly
have overlooked in an ordinary reading over cannot escape you in
translating: and this method will also enlarge your knowledge, and
improve your judgment. It may not be amiss, after you have read
an author, to turn, as it were, to his rival, and attempt something ol
your own upon the same topic, and then make a careful
comparison between your performance and his, in order to see in
what points either you or he may be the happier. You may
congratulate yourself indeed if you shall find in some things that
you have the advantage of him, while it will be a great
mortification if he is always superior. You may sometimes select
very famous passages and compete with what you select. The
competition is daring enough, but, as it is private, cannot be called
impudent. Not but that we have seen instances of persons who
have publicly entered this sort of lists with great credit to
themselves, and, while they did not despair of overtaking, have
gloriously outstripped those whom they thought it sufficient
honour to follow. A speech no longer fresh in your memory, you
may take up again. You will find plenty in it to leave unaltered, but
still more to reject; you will add a new thought here, and alter
another there. It is a laborious and tedious task, I own, thus to
re-enfiame the mind after the first heat is over, to recover an
impulse when its force has been checked and spent, and, worse
than all, to put new limbs into a body already complete without
disturbing the old; but the advantage attending this method will
overbalance the difficulty. I know the bent of your present
attention is directed towards the eloquence of the bar; but I would
not for that reason advise you never to quit the polemic, if I may so
call it, and contentious style. As land is improved by sowing it
with various seeds, constantly changed, so is the mind by
exercising it now with this subject of study, now with that. I would
recommend you, therefore, sometimes to take a subject from
history, and you might give more care to the composition of your
letters. For it frequently happens that in pleading one has occasion
to make use not only of historical, but even poetical, styles of
description; and then from letters you acquire a concise and simple
mode of expression. You will do quite right again in refreshing
yourself with poetry: when I say so, I do not mean that species of
poetry which turns upon subjects of great length and continuity
(such being suitable only for persons of leisure), but those little
pieces of the sprightly kind of poesy, which serve as proper reliefs
to, and are consistent with, employments of every sort. They
commonly go under the title of poetical amusements; but these
amusements have sometimes gained their authors as much
reputation as works of a more serious nature; and thus (for while I
am exhorting you to poetry, why should I not turn poet myself?)

"As yielding wax the artist's skill commands,
Submissive shap'd beneath his forming hands;
Now dreadful stands in arms a Mars confest;
Or now with Venus's softer air imprest;
A wanton Cupid now the mould belies;
Now shines, severely chaste, a Pallas wife:
As not alone to quench the raging flame,
The sacred fountain pours her friendly stream;
But sweetly gliding through the flow'ry green,
Spreads glad refreshment o'er the smiling scene:
So, form'd by science, should the ductile mind
Receive, distinct, each various art refin'd."

In this manner the greatest men, as well as the greatest
orators, used either to exercise or amuse themselves, or rather
indeed did both. It is surprising how much the mind is enlivened
and refreshed by these little poetical compositions, as they turn
upon love, hatred, satire, tenderness, politeness, and everything, in
short, that concerns life and the affairs of the world. Besides, the
same advantage attends these, as every other sort of poems, that
we turn from them to prose with so much the more pleasure after
having experienced the difficulty of being constrained and fettered
by metre. And now, perhaps, I have troubled you upon this subject
longer than you desired; however, there is one thing I have left out:
I have not told you what kind of authors you should read; though
indeed that was sufficiently implied when I told you on what you
should write. Remember to be careful in your choice of authors of
every kind: for, as it has been well observed, "though we should
read much, we should not read many books." Who those authors
are, is so clearly settled, and so generally known, that I need not
particularly specify them; besides, I have already extended this
letter to such an immoderate length that, while suggesting how you
ought to study, I have, I fear, been actually interrupting your
studies. I will here resign you therefore to your tablets, either to
resume the studies in which you were before engaged or to enter
upon some of those I have recommended. Farewell.

LXX VII

To FABATUS (HIS WIFE'S GRANDFATHER)

You are surprised, I find, that my share of five-twelfths of the
estate which lately fell to me, and which I had directed to be sold
to the best bidder, should have been disposed of by my freedman
Hermes to Corellia (without putting it up to auction) at the rate of
seven hundred thousand sesterces115 for the whole. And as you
think it might have fetched nine hundred thousand,116 you are so
much the more desirous to know whether I am inclined to ratify
what he has done. I am; and listen, while I tell you why, for I hope
that not only you will approve, but also that my fellow-coheirs will
excuse me for having, upon a motive of superior obligation,
separated my interest from theirs. I have the highest esteem for
Corellia, both as the sister of Rufus, whose memory will always be
a sacred one to me, and as my mother's intimate friend. Besides,
that excellent man Minutius Tuscus, her husband, has every claim
to my affection that a long friendship can give him; as there was
likewise the closest intimacy between her son and me, so much so
indeed that I fixed upon him to preside at the games which I
exhibited when I was elected praetor. This lady, when I was last in
the country, expressed a strong desire for some place upon the
borders of our lake of Comum; I therefore made her an offer, at
her own price, of any part of my land there, except what came to
me from my father and mother; for that I could not consent to part
with, even to Corellia, and accordingly when the inheritance in
question fell to me, I wrote to let her know it was to be sold. This
letter I sent by Hermes, who, upon her requesting him that he
would immediately make over to her my proportion of it,
consented. Am I not then obliged to confirm what my freedman
has thus done in pursuance of my inclinations? I have only to
entreat my fellow-coheirs that they will not take it ill at my hands
that I have made a separate sale of what I had certainly a right to
dispose of. They are not bound in any way to follow my example,
since they have not the same connections with Corellia. They are
at full liberty therefore to be guided by interest, which in my own
case I chose to sacrifice to friendship. Farewell.

LXXVIII

To CORELLIA

You are truly generous to desire and insist that I take for my share
of the estate you purchased of me, not after the rate of seven
hundred thousand sesterces for the whole, as my freedman sold it
to you; but in the proportion of nine hundred thousand, agreeably
to what you gave to the farmers of the twentieths for their part. But
I must desire and insist in my turn that you would consider not
only what is suitable to your character, but what is worthy of mine;
and that you would suffer me to oppose your inclination in this
single instance, with the same warmth that I obey it in all others.
Farewell.

LXXIX

To CELER

EVERY author has his particular reasons for reciting his works;
mine, I have often said, are, in order, if any error should have
escaped my own observation (as no doubt they do escape it
sometimes), to have it pointed out to me. I cannot therefore but be
surprised to find (what your letter assures me) that there are some
who blame me for reciting my speeches: unless, perhaps, they are
of opinion that this is the single species of composition that ought
to be held exempt from any correction. If so, I would willingly ask
them why they allow (if indeed they do allow) that history may be
recited, since it is a work which ought to be devoted to truth, not
ostentation? or why tragedy, as it is composed for action and the
stage, not for being read to a private audience? or lyric poetry, as it
is not a reader, but a chorus of voices and instruments that it
requires? They will reply, perhaps, that in the instances referred to
custom has made the practice in question usual: I should be glad to
know, then, if they think the person who first introduced this
practice is to be condemned? Besides the rehearsal of speeches is
no unprecedented thing either with us or the Grecians. Still,
perhaps, they will insist that it can answer no purpose to recite a
speech which has already been delivered. True; if one were
immediately to repeat the very same speech word for word, and to
the very same audience; but if you make several additions and
alterations; if your audience is composed partly of the same, and
partly of different persons, and the recital is at some distance of
time, why is there less propriety in rehearsing your speech than in
publishing it? "But it is difficult," the objectors urge, "to give
satisfaction to an audience by the mere recital of a speech"; that is
a consideration which concerns the particular skill and pains of the
person who rehearses, but by no means holds good against
recitation in general. The truth is, it is not whilst I am reading, but
when I am read, that I aim at approbation; and upon this principle I
omit no sort of correction. In the first place, I frequently go
carefully over what I have written, by myself, after this I read it out
to two or three friends, and then give it to others to make their
remarks. If after this I have any doubt concerning the justness of
their observations, I carefully weigh them again with a friend or
two; and, last of all, I recite them to a larger audience, then is the
time, believe me, when I correct most energetically and
unsparingly; for my care and attention rise in proportion to my
anxiety; as nothing renders the judgment so acute to detect error as
that deference, modesty, and diffidence one feels upon those
occasions. For tell me, would you not be infinitely less affected
were you to speak before a single person only, though ever so
learned, than before a numerous assembly, even though composed
of none but illiterate people? When you rise up to plead, are you
not at that juncture, above all others, most self-distrustful? and do
you not wish, I will not say some particular parts only, but that the
whole arrangement of your intended speech were altered?
especially if the concourse should be large in which you are to
speak? for there is something even in a low and vulgar audience
that strikes one with awe. And if you suspect you are not well
received at the first opening of your speech, do you not find all
your energy relaxed, and feel yourself ready to give way? The
reason I imagine to be that there is a certain weight of collective
opinion in a multitude, and although each individual judgment is,
perhaps, of little value, yet when united it becomes considerable.
Accordingly, Pomponius Secundus, the famous tragic poet,
whenever some very intimate friend and he differed about the
retaining or rejecting anything in his writings, used to say, "I
appeal117 to the people"; and thus, by their silence or applause,
adopted either his own or his friend's opinion; such was the
deference he paid to the popular judgment! Whether justly or not,
is no concern of mine, as I am not in the habit of reciting my
works publicly, but only to a select circle, whose presence I
respect, and whose judgment I value; in a word, whose opinions I
attend to as if they were so many individuals I had separately
consulted, at the same time that I stand in as much awe before
them as I should before the most numerous assembly. What Cicero
says of composing will, in my opinion, hold true of the dread we
have of the public: "Fear is the most rigid critic imaginable." The
very thought of reciting, the very entrance into an assembly, and
the agitated concern when one is there; each of these
circumstances tends to improve and perfect an author's
performance. Upon the whole, therefore, I cannot repent of a
practice which I have found by experience so exceedingly useful;
and am so far from being discouraged by the trifling objections of
these censors that I request you would point out to me if there is
yet any other kind of correction, that I may also adopt it; for
nothing can sufficiently satisfy my anxiety to render my
compositions perfect. I reflect what an undertaking it is resigning
any work into the hands of the public; and I cannot but be
persuaded that frequent revisals, and many consultations, must go
to the perfecting of a performance, which one desires should
universally and forever please. Farewell.

LXXX

To PRISCUS

THE illness of my friend Fannia gives me great concern. She
contracted it during her attendance on Junia, one of the Vestal
virgins, engaging in this good office at first voluntarily, Junia
being her relation, and afterwards being appointed to it by an order
from the college of priests: for these virgins, when excessive
ill-health renders it necessary to remove them from the temple of
Vesta, are always delivered over to the care and custody of some
venerable matron. It was owing to her assiduity in the execution of
this charge that she contracted her present dangerous disorder,
which is a continual fever, attended with a cough that increases
daily. She is extremely emaciated, and every part of her seems in a
total decay except her spirits: those, indeed, she fully keeps up;
and in a way altogether worthy the wife of Helvidius, and the
daughter of Thrasea. In all other respects there is such a falling
away that I am more than apprehensive upon her account; I am
deeply afflicted. I grieve, my friend, that so excellent a woman is
going to be removed from the eyes of the world, which will never,
perhaps, again behold her equal. So pure she is, so pious, so wise
and prudent, so brave and steadfast! Twice she followed her
husband into exile, and the third time she was banished herself
upon his account. For Senecio, when arraigned for writing the life
of Helvidius, having said in his defence that he composed that
work at the request of Fannia, Metius Carus, with a stern and
threatening air, asked her whether she had made that request, and
she replied, "I made it." Did she supply him likewise with
materials for the purpose? "I did." Was her mother privy to
this transaction? "She was not." In short, throughout her whole
examination, not a word escaped her which betrayed the smallest
fear. On the contrary, she had preserved a copy of those very books
which the senate, over-awed by the tyranny of the times, had
ordered to be suppressed, and at the same time the effects of the
author to be confiscated, and carried with her into exile the very
cause of her exile. Ilow pleasing she is, how courteous, and (what
is granted to few) no less lovable than worthy of all esteem and
adlniration! Will she hereafter be pointed out as a model to all
wives; and perhaps be esteemed worthy of being set forth as an
example of fortitude even to our sex; since, while we still have the
pleasure of seeing and conversing with her, we contemplate her
with the same admiration, as those heroines who are celebrated in
ancient story? For myself, I confess, I cannot but tremble for this
illustrious house, which seems shaken to its very foundations, and
ready to fall; for though she will leave descendants behind her, yet
what a height of virtue must they attain, what glorious deeds must
they perform, ere the world will be persuaded that she was not the
last of her family! It is an additional affliction and anguish to me
that by her death I seem to lose her mother a second time; that
worthy mother (and what can I say higher in her praise?) of so
noble a woman! who, as she was restored to me in her daughter, so
she will now again be taken from me, and the loss of Fannia will
thus pierce my heart at once with a fresh, and at the same time
re-opened, wound. I so truly loved and honoured them both, that I
know not which I loved the best; a point they desired might ever
remain undetermined. In their prosperity and their adversity I did
them every kindness in my power, and was their comforter in
exile, as well as their avenger at their return. But I have not yet
paid them what I owe, and am so much the more solicitous for the
recovery of this lady, that I may have time to discharge my debt to
her. Such is the anxiety and sorrow under which I write this letter!
But if some divine power should happily turn it into joy, I shall not
complain of the alarms I now suffer. Farewell.

LXXXI

To GEMINIUS

NUMIDIA QUADRATILLA is dead, having almost reached her
eightieth year. She enjoyed, up to her last illness, uninterrupted
good health, and was unusually stout and robust for one of her sex.
She has left a very prudent will, having disposed of two-thirds of
her estate to her grandson, and the rest to her grand-daughter. The
young lady I know very slightly, but the grandson is one of my
most intimate friends. He is a remarkable young man, and his
merit entitles him to the affection of a relation, even where his
blood does not. Notwithstanding his remarkable personal beauty,
he escaped every malicious imputation both whilst a boy and when
a youth: he was a husband at four-and-twenty, and would have
been a father if Providence had not disappointed his hopes. He
lived in the family with his grandmother, who was exceedingly
devoted to the pleasures of the town, yet observed great severity of
conduct himself, while always perfectly deferential and submissive
to her. She retained a set of pantomimes, and was an encourager of
this class of people to a degree inconsistent with one of her sex
and rank. But Quadratus never appeared at these entertainments,
whether she exhibited them in the theatre or in her own house; nor
indeed did she require him to be present. I once heard her say,
when she was recommending to me the supervision of her
grandson's studies, that it was her custom, in order to pass away
some of those unemployed hours with which female life abounds,
to amuse herself with playing at chess, or seeing the mimicry of
her pantomimes; but that, whenever she engaged in either of those
amusements, she constantly sent away her grandson to his studies:
she appeared to me to act thus as much out of reverence for the
youth as from affection. I was a good deal surprised, as I am sure
you will be too, at what he told me the last time the Pontifical
games118 were exhibited. As we were coming out of the theatre
together, where we had been entertained with a show of these
pantomimes, "Do you know," said he, "to-day is the first time I
ever saw my grandmother's freedman dance?" Such was the
grandson's speech! while a set of men of a far different stamp, in
order to do honour to Quadratilla (am ashamed to call it honour),
were running up and down the theatre, pretending to be struck with
the utmost admiration and rapture at the performances of those
pantomimes, and then imitating in musical chant the mien and
manner of their lady patroness. But now all the reward they have
got, in return for their theatrical performances, is just a few trivial
legacies, which they have the mortification to receive from an heir
who was never so much as present at these shows.-- I send you this
account, knowing you do not dislike hearing town news, and
because, too, when any occurrence has given me pleasure, I love to
renew it again by relating it. And indeed this instance of affection
in Quadratilla, and the honour done therein to that excellent youth
her grandson, has afforded me a very sensible satisfaction; as I
extremely rejoice that the house which once belonged to
Cassius,119 the founder and chief of the Cassian school, is come
into the possession of one no less considerable than its former
master. For my friend will fill it and become it as he ought, and its
ancient dignity, lustre, and glory will again revive under
Quadratus, who, I am persuaded, will prove as eminent an orator
as Cassius was a lawyer. Farewell.

LXXXII

To MAXIMUS

THE lingering disorder of a friend of mine gave me occasion lately
to reflect that we are never so good as when oppressed with illness.
Where is the sick man who is either solicited by avarice or
inflamed with lust? At such a season he is neither a slave of love
nor the fool of ambition; wealth he utterly disregards, and is
content with ever so small a portion of it, as being upon the point
of leaving even that little. It is then he recollects there are gods,
and that he himself is but a man: no mortal is then the object of his
envy, his admiration, or his contempt; and the tales of slander
neither raise his attention nor feed his curiosity: his dreams are
only of baths and fountains. These are the supreme objects of his
cares and wishes, while he resolves, if he should recover, to pass
the remainder of his days in ease and tranquillity, that is, to live
innocently and happily. I may therefore lay down to you and
myself a short rule, which the philosophers have endeavoured to
inculcate at the expense of many words, and even many volumes;
that "we should try and realise in health those resolutions we form
in sickness." Farewell.

LXXXIII

To SURA

THE present recess from business we are now enjoying affords
you leisure to give, and me to receive, instruction. I am extremely
desirous therefore to know whether you believe in the existence of
ghosts, and that they have a real form, and are a sort of divinities,
or only the visionary impressions of a terrified imagination. What
particularly inclines me to believe in their existence is a story
which I heard of Curtius Rufus. When he was in low
circumstances and unknown in the world, he attended the governor
of Africa into that province. One evening, as he was walking in the
public portico, there appeared to him the figure of a woman, of
unusual size and of beauty more than human. And as he stood
there, terrified and astonished, she told him she was the tutelary
power that presided over Africa, and was come to inform him of
the future events of his life: that he should go back to Rome, to
enjoy high honours there, and return to that province invested with
the pro-consular dignity, and there should die. Every circumstance
of this prediction actually came to pass. It is said farther that upon
his arrival at Carthage, as he was coming out of the ship, the same
figure met him upon the shore. It is certain, at least, that being
seized with a fit of illness, though there were no symptoms in his
case that led those about him to despair, he instantly gave up all
hope of recovery; judging, apparently, of the truth of the future
part of the prediction by what had already been fulfilled, and of the
approaching misfortune from his former prosperity. Now the
following story, which I am going to tell you just as I heard it, is it
not more terrible than the former, while quite as wonderful? There
was at Athens a large and roomy house, which had a bad name, so
that no one could live there. In the dead of the night a noise,
resembling the clashing of iron, was frequently heard, which, if
you listened more attentively, sounded like the rattling of chains,
distant at first, but approaching nearer by degrees: immediately
afterwards a spectre appeared in the form of an old man, of
extremely emaciated and squalid appearance, with a long beard
and dishevelled hair, rattling the chains on his feet and hands. The
distressed occupants meanwhile passed their wakeful nights under
the most dreadful terrors imaginable. This, as it broke their rest,
ruined their health, and brought on distempers, their terror grew
upon them, and death ensued. Even in the day time, though the
spirit did not appear, yet the impression remained so strong upon
their imaginations that it still seemed before their eyes, and kept
them in perpetual alarm, Consequently the house was at length
deserted, as being deemed absolutely uninhabitab1e; so that it was
now entirely abandoned to the ghost. However, in hopes that some
tenant might be found who was ignorant of this very alarming
circumstance, a bill was put up, giving notice that it was either to
be let or sold. It happened that Athenodorus120 the philosopher
came to Athens at this time, and, reading the bill, enquired the
price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion;
nevertheless, when he heard the whole story, be was so
far from being discouraged that he was more strongly inclined to
hire it, and, in short, actually did so. When it grew towards
evening, he ordered a couch to be prepared for him in the front
part of the house, and, after calling for a light, together with his
pencil and tablets, directed all his people to retire. But that his
mind might not, for want of employment, be open to the vain
terrors of imaginary noises and spirits, he applied himself to
writing with the utmost attention. The first part of the night passed
in entire silence, as usual; at length a clanking of iron and rattling
of chains was heard: however, he neither lifted up his eyes nor laid
down his pen, but in order to keep calm and collected tried to pass
the sounds off to himself as something else. The noise increased
and advanced nearer, till it seemed at the door, and at last in the
chamber. He looked up, saw, and recognized the ghost exactly as it
had been described to him: it stood before him, beckoning with the
finger, like a person who calls another. Athenodorus in reply made
a sign with his hand that it should wait a little, and threw his eyes
again upon his papers; the ghost then rattled its chains over the
head of the philosopher, who looked up upon this, and seeing it
beckoning as before, immediately arose, and, light in hand,
followed it. The ghost slowly stalked along, as if encumbered with
its chains, and, turning into the area of the house, suddenly
vanished. Athenodorus, being thus deserted, made a mark with
some grass and leaves on the spot where the spirit left him. The
next day he gave information to the magistrates, and advised them
to order that spot to be dug up. This was accordingly done, and the
skeleton of a man in chains was found there; for the body, having
lain a considerable time in the ground, was putrefied and
mouldered away from the fetters. The bones being collected
together were publicly buried, and thus after the ghost was
appeased by the proper ceremonies, the house was haunted no
more. This story I believe upon the credit of others; what I am
going to mention, I give you upon my own. I have a freedman
named Marcus, who is by no means illiterate. One night, as he and
his younger brother were lying together, he fancied he saw
somebody upon his bed, who took out a pair of scissors, and cut
off the hair from the top part of his own head, and in the morning,
it appeared his hair was actually cut, and the clippings lay
scattered about the floor. A short time after this, an event of a
similar nature contributed to give credit to the former story. A
young lad of my family was sleeping in his apartment with the rest
of his companions, when two persons clad in white came in, as he
says, through the windows, cut off his hair as he lay, and then
returned the same way they entered. The next morning it was
found that this boy had been served just as the other, and there was
the hair again, spread about the room. Nothing remarkable indeed
followed these events, unless perhaps that I escaped a prosecution,
in which, if Domitian (during whose reign this happened) had
lived some time longer, I should certainly have been involved. For
after the death of that emperor, articles of impeachment against
me were found in his scrutore, which had been exhibited by Carus.
It may therefore be conjectured, since it is customary for persons
under any public accusation to let their hair grow, this cutting off
the hair of my servants was a sign I should escape the imminˆnt
danger that threatened me. Let me desire you then to give this
question your mature consideration. The subject deserves your
examination; as, I trust, I am not myself altogether unworthy a
participation in the abundance of your superior knowledge. And
though you should, as usual, balance between two opinions, yet I
hope you will lean more on one side than on the other, lest, whilst
I consult you in order to have my doubt settled, you should dismiss
me in the same suspense and indecision that occasioned you the
present application. Farewell.

LXXXIV

To SEPTITIUS

You tell me certain persons have blamed me in your company, as
being upon all occasions too lavish in the praise I give my friends.
I not only acknowledge the charge, but glory in it; for can there be
a nobler error than an overflowing benevolence? But still, who are
these, let me ask, that are better acquaillted with my friends than I
am myself? Yet grant there are any such, why will they deny me
the satisfaction of so pleasing a mistake? For supposing my friends
not to deserve the highest encomiums I give them, yet I am happy
in believing they do. Let them recommend then this malignant zeal
to those (and their number is not inconsiderable) who imagine they
show their judgment when they indulge their censure upon their
friends. As for myself, they will never be able to persuade me I can
be guilty of an excess121 in friendship, Farewell.

LXXXV

To TACITUS

I PREDICT (and I am persuaded I shall not be deceived) that your
histories will be immortal. I frankly own therefore I so much the
more earnestly wish to find a place in them. If we are generally
careful to have our faces taken by the best artists, ought we not to
desire that our actions may be celebrated by an author of your
distinguished abilities? I therefore call your attention to the
following matter, which, though it cannot have escaped your
notice, as it is mentioned in the public journals, still I call your
attention to, that you may the more readily believe how agreeable
it will be to me that this action, greatly heightened by the risk
which attended it, should receive additional lustre from the
testimony of a man of your powers. The senate appointed
Herennius Senecio, and myself, counsel for the province of
Baetica, in their impeachment of Boebius Massa. He was
condemned, and the house ordered his effects to be seized into the
hands of the public officer. Shortly after, Senecio, having learnt
that the consuls intended to sit to hear petitions, came and said to
me, "Let us go together, atid petition them with the same
unanimity in which we executed the office which had been
enjoined us, not to suffer Massa's effects to be dissipated by those
who were appointed to preserve them." I answered, "As we were
counsel in this affair by order of the senate, I recommend it to your
consideration whether it would be proper for us, after sentence
passed, to interpose any farther." "You are at liberty," said he, "to
prescribe what bounds you please to yourself, who have no
particular connections with the province, except what arise from
your late services to them; but then I was born there, and enjoyed
the post of quaestor among them." "If such," I replied, "is your
determined resolution, I am ready to accompany you, that
whatever resentment may be the consequence of this affair, it may
not fall singly upon yourself." We accordingly proceeded to the
consuls, where Senecio said what was pertinent to the affair, and I
added a few words to the same effect. Scarcely had we ended
when Massa, complaining that Senecio had not acted against him
with the fidelity of an advocate, but the bitterness of an enemy,
desired he might be at liberty to prosecute him for treason. This
occasioned general consternation. Whereupon I rose up; "Most
noble consuls," said I, "I am afraid it should seem that Massa has
tacitly charged me with having favoured him in this cause, since
he did not think proper to join me with Senecio in the desired
prosecution." This short speech was immediately received with
applause, and afterwards got much talked about everywhere. The
late emperor Nerva (who, though at that time in a private station,
yet interested himself in every meritorious action performed in
public) wrote a most impressive letter to me upon the occasion, in
which he not only congratulated me, but the age which had
produced an example so much in the spirit (as he was pleased to
call it) of the good old days. But, whatever be the actual fact, it lies
in your power to raise it into a grander and more conspicuously
illustrious position, though I am far from desiring you in the least
to exceed the bounds of reality. History ought to be guided by
strict truth, and worthy actions require nothing more. Farewell.

LXXX VI

To SEPTITIUS

I HAD a good journey here, excepting only that some of my
servants were upset by the excessive heat. Poor Encolpius, my
reader,122 who is so indispensable to me in my studies and
amusements, was so affected with the dust that it brought on a
spitting of blood: an accident which will prove no less unpleasant
to me than unfortunate to himself, should he be thereby rendered
unfit for the literary work in which he so greatly excels. If that
should unhappily result, where shall I find one who will read my
works so well, or appreciate them so thoroughly as he? Whose
tones will my ears drink in as they do his? But the gods seem to
favour our better hopes, as the bleeding is stopped, and the pain
abated. Besides, he is extremely temperate; while no concern is
wanting on my part or care on his physician's. This, together with
the wholesomeness of the air, and the quiet of retirement, gives us
reason to expect that the cotlntry will contribute as much to the
restoration of his health as to his rest. Farewell.

LXXXVII

To CALVISIUS

OTHER people visit their estates in order to recruit their purses;
whilst I go to mine only to return so much the poorer. I had sold
my vintage to the merchants, who were extremely eager to
purchase it, encouraged by the price it then bore, and what it was
probable it would rise to: however they were disappointed in their
expectations. Upon this occasion to have made the same general
abatement to all would have been much the easiest, though not so
equitable a method. Now I hold it particularly worthy of a man of
honour to be governed by principles of strict equity in his domestic
as well as public conduct; in little matters as in great ones; in his
own concerns as well as in those of others. And if every deviation
from rectitude is equally criminal,123 every approach to it must be
equally praiseworthy. So accordingly I remitted to all in general
one-eighth part of the price they had agreed to give me, that none
might go away without some compensation: next, I particularly
considered those who had advanced the largest sums towards their
purchase, and done me so much the more service, and been greater
sufferers themselves. To those, therefore, whose purchase
amounted to more than ten thousand sesterces,124 I returned (over
and above that which I may call the general and common eighth) a
tenth part of what they had paid beyond that sum. I fear I do not
express myself sufficiently clearly; I will endeavour to explain my
meaning more fully: for instance, suppose a man had purchased of
me to the value of fifteen thousand sesterces,125 I remitted to him
one-eighth part of that whole sum, and likewise one-tenth of five
thousand.126 Besides this, as several had deposited, in different
proportions, part of the price they had agreed to pay, whilst others
had advanced nothing, I thought it would not be at all fair that all
these should be favoured with the same undistinguished remission.
To those, therefore, who had made any payments, I returned a
tenth part upon the sums so paid. By this means I made a proper
acknowledgment to each, according to their respective deserts, and
likewise encouraged them, not only to deal with me for the future,
but to be prompt in their payments. This instance of my
good-nature or my judgment (call it which you please) was a
considerable expense to me. However, I found my account in it;
for all the country greatly approved both of the novelty of these
abatements and the manner in which I regulated them. Even those
whom I did not "mete" (as they say) "by the same measure," but
distinguished according to their several degrees, thought
themselves obliged to me, in proportion to the probity of their
principles, and went away pleased with having experienced that
not with me

"The brave and mean an equal honour find."127

Farewell.

LXXX VIII

To ROMANUS

HAVE you ever seen the source of the river Clitumnus? If you
have not (and I hardly think you can have seen it yet, or you would
have told me), go there as soon as possible. I saw it yesterday, and
I blame myself for not having seen it sooner. At the foot of a little
hill, well wooded with old cypress trees, a spring gushes out,
which, breaking up into different and unequal streams, forms
itself, after several windings, into a large, broad basin of water, so
transparently clear that you may count the shining pebbles, and the
little pieces of money thrown into it, as they lie at the bottom.
From thence it is carried off not so much by the declivity of the
ground as by its own weight and exuberance. A mere stream at its
source, immediately, on quitting this, you find it expanded into a
broad river, fit for large vessels even, allowing a free passage by
each other, according as they sail with or against the stream~ The
current runs so strong, though the ground is level, that the large
barges going down the river have no occasion to make use of their
oars; while those going up find it difficult to make headway even
with the assistance of oars and poles: and this alternate interchange
of ease and toil, according as you turn, is exceedingly amusing
when one sails up and down merely for pleasure. The banks are
well covered with ash and poplar, the shape and colour of the trees
being as clearly and distinctly reflected in the stream as if they
were actually sunk in it. The water is cold as snow, and as white
too. Near it stands an ancient and venerable temple, in which is
placed the river-god Clitumnus clothed in the usual robe of state;
and indeed the prophetic oracles here delivered sufficiently testify
the immediate presence of that divinity. Several little chapels are
scattered round, dedicated to particular gods, distinguished each by
his own peculiar name and form of worship, and some of them,
too, presiding over different fountains. For, besides the principal
spring, which is, as it were, the parent of all the rest, there are
several other lesser streams, which, taking their rise from various
sources, lose themselves in the river; over which a bridge is built
that separates the sacred part from that which lies open to common
use. Vessels are allowed to come above this bridge, but no person
is permitted to swim except below it. The Hispellates, to whom
Augustus gave this place, furnish a public bath, and likewise
entertain all strangers, at their own expense. Several villas,
attracted by the beauty of this river, stand about on its borders. In
short, every surrounding object will afford you entertainment. You
may also amuse yourself with numberless inscriptions upon the
pillars and walls, by different persons, celebrating the virtues of
the fountain, and the divinity that presides over it. Many of them
you will admire, while some will make you laugh; hut I must
correct myself when I say so; you are too humane, I know, to laugh
upon such an occasion. Farewell.

LXXXIX

To ARISTO

As you are no less acquainted with the political laws of your
country (which include the customs and usages of the senate) than
with the civil, I am particularly desirous to have your opinion
whether I was mistaken in an affair which lately came before the
house, or not. This I request, not with a view of being directed in
my judgment as to what is passed (for that is now too late), but in
order to know how to act in any possible future case of the kind.
You will, ask, perhaps, "Why do you apply for information
concerning a point on which you ought to be well instructed ?"
Because the tyranny of former reigns,128 as it introduced a neglect
and ignorance of all other parts of useful knowledge, so
particularly of what relates to the customs of the senate; for who is
there so tamely industrious as to desire to learn what he can never
have an opportunity of putting in practice? Besides, it is not very
easy to retain even the knowledge one has acquired where no
opportunity of employing it occurs. Hence it was that Liberty, on
her return129 found us totally ignorant and inexperienced; and
thus in the warmth of our eagerness to taste her sweets, we are
sometimes hurried ott to action, ere we are well instructed how we
ought to act. But by the institution of our ancestors, it was wisely
provided that the young should learn from the old, not only by
precept, but by their own observation, how to behave in that sphere
in which they were one day themselves to move; while these,
again, in their turn, transmitted the same mode of instruction to
their children. Upon this principle it was that the youth were sent
early into the army, that by being taught to obey they might learn
to command, and, whilst they followed others, might be trained by
degrees to become leaders themselves. On the same principle,
when they were candidates for any office, they were obliged to
stand at the door of the senate-house, and were spectators of the
public council before they became members of it. The father of
each youth was his instructor upon these occasions, or if he had
none, some person of years and dignity supplied the place of a
father. Thus they were taught by that surest method of discipline,
Example; how far the right of proposing any law to the senate
extended; what privileges a senator had in delivering his opinion in
the house; the power of the magistrates in that assembly, and the
rights of the rest of the members; where it is proper to yield, and
where to insist; when and how long to speak, and when to be
silent; how to make necessary distinctions between contrary
opinions, and how to improve upon a former motion: in a word,
they learnt by this means every senatorial usage. As for myself, it
is true indeed, I served in the army when I was a youth; but it was
at a time when courage was suspected, and want of spirit
rewarded; when generals were without authority, and soldiers
without modesty; when there was neither discipline nor obedience,
but all was riot, disorder, and confusion; in short, when it was
happier to forget than to remember what one learnt. I attended
likewise in my youth the senate, but a senate shrinking and
speechless; where it was dangerous to utter one's opinion, and
mean and pitiable to be silent. What pleasure was there in
learning, or indeed what could be learnt, when the senate was
convened either to do nothing whatever or to give their sanction to
some consummate infamy! when they were assembled either for
cruel or ridiculous purposes, and when their deliberations were
never serious, though often sad! But I was not only a witness to
this scene of wretchedness, as a spectator; I bore my share of it too
as a senator, and both saw and suffered under it for many years;
which so broke and damped my spirits that they have not even yet
been able fully to recover themselves. It is within quite recently
(for all time seems short in proportion to its happiness) that we
could take any pleasure in knowing what relates to or in setting
about the duties of our station. Upon these considerations,
therefore, I may the more reasonably entreat you, in the first place,
to pardon my error (if I have been guilty of one), and, in the next,
to lead me out of it by your superior knowledge: for you have
always been diligent to examine into the constitution of your
country, both with respect to its public and private, its ancient and
modern, its general and special laws. I am persuaded indeed the
point upon which I am going to consult you is such an unusual one
that even those whose great experience in public business must
have made them, one would have naturally supposed, acquainted
with everything were either doubtful or absolutely ignorant upon
it. I shall be more excusable, therefore, if I happen to have been
mistaken; as you will earn the higher praise if you can set me right
in an affair which it is not clear has ever yet fallen within your
observation. The enquiry then before the house was concerning the
freedmen of Afranius Dexter, who being found murdered, it was
uncertain whether he fell by his own hands, or by those of his
household; and if the latter, whether they committed the fact in
obedience to the cornmands of Afranius, or were prompted to it by
their own villainy. After they had been put to the question, a
certain senator (it is of no importance to mention his name, but if
you are desirous to know, it was myself) was for acquitting them;
another proposed that they should be banished for a limited time;
and a third that they should suffer death.

These several opinions were so extremely different that it was
impossible either of them could stand with the other. For what
have death and banishment in common with one another? Why, no
more than banishment and acquittal have together. Though an
acquittal approaches rather nearer a sentence of exile than a
sentence of death does: for both the former agree at least in this
that they spare life, whereas the latter takes it away. In the
meanwhile, those senators who were for punishing with death, and
those who proposed banishment, sate together on the same side of
the house: and thus by a present appearance of unanimity
suspended their real disagreement. I moved, therefore, that the
votes for each of the three opinions should be separately taken, and
that two of them should not, under favour of a short truce between
themselves, join against the third. I insisted that such of the
members who were for capital punishment should divide from the
others who voted for banishment; and that these two distinct
parties should not be permitted to form themselves into a body, in
opposition to those who declared for acquittal, when they would
immediately after disunite again: for it was not material that they
agreed in disliking one proposal, since they differed with respect
to the other two. It seemed very extraordinary that he who moved
the freedmen should be banished, and the slaves suffer death,
should not be allowed to join these two in one motion, but that
each question should be ordered to be put to the house separately;
and yet that the votes of one who was for inflicting capital
punishment upon the freedmen should be taken together with that
of one who was for banishing them. For if, in the former instance,
it was reasonable that the motion should be divided, because it
comprehended two distinct propositions, I could not see why, in
the latter case, suffrages so extremely different should be thrown
into the same scale. Permit me, then, notwithstanding the point is
already settled, to go over it again as if it were still undecided, and
to lay before you those reasons at my ease, which I offered to the
house in the midst of much interruption and clamour. Let us
suppose there had been only three judges appointed to hear this
cause, one of whom was of opinion that the parties in question
deserved death; the other that they should only be banished; and
the third that they ought to be acquitted: should the two former
unite their weight to overpower the latter, or should each be
separately balanced? For the first and second are no more
compatible than the second and third. They ought therefore in the
same manner to be counted in the senate as contrary opinions,
since they were delivered as different ones. Suppose the same
person had moved that they should both have been banished and
put to death, could they possibly, in pursuance of this opinion,
have suffered both punishments? Or could it have been looked
upon as one consistent motion when it united two such different
decisions? Why then should the same opinion, when delivered by
distinct persons, be considered as one and entire, which would not
be deemed so if it were proposed by a single man? Does not the
law manifestly imply that a distinction is to be made between
those who are for a capital conviction, and those who are for
banishment, in the very form of words made use of when the house
is ordered to divide? You who are of such an opinion, come to this
side; you who are of any other, go over to the side of him whose
opinion you follow. Let us examine this form, and weigh every
sentence: You who are of this opinion: that is, for instance, you
who are for banishment, come on this side; namely, on the side of
him who moved for banishment. From whence it is clear he cannot
remain on this side of those who are for death. You who are for
any other: observe, the law is not content with barely saying
another, but it adds any. Now can there be a doubt as to whether
they who declare for a capital conviction are of any other opinion
than those who propose exile! Go over to the side of him whose
opinion you follow: does not the law seem, as it were, to call,
compel, drive over, those who are of different opinions, to contrary
sides? Does not the consul himself point out, not only by this
solemn form of words, but by his hand and gesture, the place in
which every man is to remain, or to which he is to go over? "But,"
it is objected, " if this separation is made between those who vote
for inflicting death, and those who are on the side of exile, the
opinion for acquitting the prisoners must necessarily prevail." But
how does that affect the parties who vote? Certainly it does not
become them to contend by every art, and urge every expediment,
that the milder sentence may not take place. " Still," say they,
"those who are for condemning the accused either capitally or to
banishment should be first set in opposition to those who are for
acquitting them, and afterwards weighed against each other."
Thus, as, in certain public games, some particular combatant is set
apart by lot and kept to engage with the conqueror; so, it seems, in
the senate there is a first and second combat, and of two different
opinions, the prevailing one has still a third to contend with.
What? when any particular opinion is received, do not all the rest
fall of course? Is it reasonable, then, that one should be thrown
into the scale merely to weigh down another? To express my
meaning more plainly: unless the two parties who are respectively
for capital punishment and exile immediately separate upon the
first division of the house it would be to no purpose afterwards to
dissent from those with whom they joined before. But I am
dictating instead of receiving instruction.--Tell me then whether
you think these votes should have been taken separately? My
motion, it is true, prevailed; nevertheless I am desirous to know
whether you think I ought to have insisted upon this point, or have
yielded as that member did who declared for capital punishment?
For convinced, I will not say of the legality, but at least of the
equity of my proposal, he receded from his opinion, and went over
to the party for exile: fearing perhaps, if the votes were taken
separately (which he saw would be the case), the freedmen would
be acquitted: for the numbers were far greater on that side than on
either of the other two, separately counted. The consequence was
that those who had been influenced by his authority, when they
saw themselves forsaken by his going over to the other party, gave
up a motion which they found abandoned by the first proposer, and
deserted, as it were, with their leader. Thus the three opinions were
resolved at length into two; and of those two, one prevailed, and
the other was rejected; while the third, as it was not powerful
enough to conquer both the others, had only to choose to which of
the two it would yield. Farewell.

XC

To PATERNUS

THE sickness lately in my family, which has carried off several of
my servants, some of them, too, in the prime of their years, has
been a great affliction to me. I have two consolations, however,
which, though by no means equivalent to such a grief, still are
consolations. One is, that as I have always readily manumitted my
slaves, their death does not seem altogether immature, if they lived
long enough to receive their freedom: the other, that I have
allowed them to make a kind of will,130 which I observe as
religiously as if they were legally entitled to that privilege. I
receive and obey their last requests and injunctions as so many
authoritative commands, suffering them to dispose of their effects
to whom they please; with this single restriction, that they leave
them to some one in my household, for to slaves the house they are
in is a kind of state and commonwealth, so to speak. But though I
endeavor to acquiesce under these reflections, yet the same
tenderness which led me to show them these indulgences weakens
and gets the better of me. However, I would not wish on that
account to become harder: though the generality of the world, I
know, look upon losses of this kind in no other view than as a
diminution of their property, and fancy, by cherishing such an
unfeeling temper, they show a superior fortitude and philosophy.
Their fortitude and philosophy I will not dispute. But humane, I
am sure, they are not; for it is the very criterion of true manhood to
feel those impressions of sorrow which it endeavors to resist, and
to admit not to be above the want of consolation. But perhaps I
have detained you too long upon this subject, though not so long as
I would. There is a certain pleasure even in giving vent to one's
grief; especially when we weep on the bosom of a friend who will
approve, or, at least, pardon, our tears. Farewell.

XCI

To MACRINUS

Is the weather with you as rude and boisterous as it is with us? All
here is in tempest and inundation. The Tiber has swelled its
channel, and overflowed its banks far and wide. Though the wise
precaution of the emperor had guarded against this evil, by cutting
several outlets to the river, it has nevertheless flooded all the fields
and valleys and entirely overspread the whole face of the flat
country. It seems to have gone out to meet those rivers which it
used to receive and carry off in one united stream, and has driven
them back to deluge those countries it could not reach itself. That
most delightful of rivers, the Anio, which seems invited and
detained in its course by the villas built along its banks, has almost
entirely rooted up and carried away the woods which shaded its
borders. It has overthrown whole mountains, and, in endeavouring
to find a passage through the mass of ruins that obstructed its way,
has forced down houses, and risen and spread over the desolation
it has occasioned. The inhabitants of the hill countries, who are
situated above the reach of this inundation, have been the
melancholy spectators of its dreadful effects, having seen costly
furniture, instruments of husbandry, ploughs, and oxen with their
drivers, whole herds of cattle, together with the trunks of trees, and
beams of the neighbouring villas, floating about in different parts.
Nor indeed have these higher places themselves, to which the
waters could not reach up, escaped the calamity. A continued
heavy rain and tempestuous hurricane, as destructive as the river
itself, poured down upon them, and has destroyed all the
enclosures which divided that fertile country. It has damaged
likewise, and even overturned, some of the public buildings, by the
fall of which great numbers have been maimed, smothered,
bruised. And thus lamentation over the fate of friends has been
added to losses. I am extremely uneasy lest this extensive ruin
should have spread to you: I beg therefore, if it has not, you will
immediately relieve my anxiety; and indeed I desire you would
inform me though it should have done so; for the difference is not
great between fearing a danger, and feeling it; except that the evil
one feels has some bounds, whereas one's apprehensions have
none. For we can suffer no more than what actually has happened
but we fear all that possibly could happen. Farewell.

XCII

To RUFINUS

Tun common notion is certainly quite a false one, that a man's will
is a kind of mirror in which we may clearly discern his real
character, for Domitius Tullus appears a much better man since his
death than he did during his lifetime. After having artfully
encouraged the expectations of those who paid court to him, with a
view to being his heirs, he has left his estate to his niece whom he
adopted. He has given likewise several very considerable legacies
among his grandchildren, and also to his great-grandson. In a
word, he has shown himself a most kind relation throughout his
whole will; which is so much the more to be admired as it was not
expected of him. This affair has been very much talked about, and
various opinions expressed: some call him false, ungrateful, and
forgetful, and, while thus railing at him in this way as if they were
actually disinherited kindred, betray their own dishonest designs:
others, on the contrary, applaud him extremely for having
disappointed the hopes of this infamous tribe of men, whom,
considering the disposition of the times, it is but prudence to
deceive. They add that he was not at liberty to make any other will,
and that he cannot so properly be said to have bequeathed, as
returned, his estate to his adopted daughter, since it was by her
means it came to him. For Curtilius Mancia, whose daughter
Domitius Lucanus, brother to this Tullus, married, having taken a
dislike to his son-in-law, made this young lady (who was the issue
of that marriage) his heiress, upon condition that Lucanus her
father would emancipate her. He accordingly did so, but she being
afterwards adopted by Tullus, her uncle, the design of Mancia's
will was entirely frustrated. For these two brothers having never
divided their patrimony, but living together as joint-tenants of one
common estate, the daughter of Lucanus, notwithstanding the act
of emancipation, returned back again, together with her large
fortune, under the dominion of her father, by means of this
fraudulent adoption. It seems indeed to have been the fate of these
two brothers to be enriched by those who had the greatest aversion
to them. For Domitius Afer, by whom they were adopted, left a
will in their favour, which he had made eighteen years before his
death; though it was plain he had since altered his opinion with
regard to the family, because he was instrumental in procuring the
confiscation of their father's estate. There is something extremely
singular in the resentment of Afer, and the good fortune of the
other two; as it was very extraordinary, on the one hand, that
Domitius should endeavour to extirpate from the privileges of
society a man whose children he had adopted, and, on the other,
that these brothers should find a parent in the very person that
ruined their father. But Tullus acted justly, after having been
appointed sole heir by his brother, in prejudice to his own
daughter, to make her amends by transferring to her this estate,
which came to him from Afer, as well as all the rest which he had
gained in partnership with his brother. His will therefore deserves
the higher praise, having been dictated by nature, justice, and sense
of honour; in which he has returned his obligations to his several
relations, according to their respective good offices towards him,
not forgetting his wife, having bequeathed to that excellent
woman, who patiently endured much for his sake, several
delightful villas, besides a large sum of money. And indeed she
deserved so much the more at his hands, in proportion to the
displeasure she incurred on her marriage with him. It was thought
unworthy a person of her birth and repute, so long left a widow by
her former husband, by whom she had issue, to marry, in the
decline of her life, an old man, merely for his wealth, and who was
so sickly and infirm that, even had he passed the best years of his
youth and health with her, she might well have been heartily tired
of him. He had so entirely lost the use of all his limbs that he could
not move himself in bed without assistance; and the only
enjoyment be had of his riches was to contemplate them. He was
even (sad and disgusting to relate) reduced to the necessity of
having his teeth washed and scrubbed by others: in allusion to
which he used frequently to say, when he was complaining of the
indignities which his infirmities obliged him to suffer, that he was
every day compelled to lick his servant's fingers. Still, however, he
lived on, and was willing to accept of life upon such terms. That
he lived so long as he did was particularly owing, indeed, to the
care of his wife, who, whatever reputation she might lose at first
by her marriage, acquired great honour by her unwearied devotion
as his wife.--Thus I have given you all the news of the town, where
nothing is talked of but Tullus. It is expected his curiosities will
shortly be sold by auction. He had such an abundant collection of
very old statues that he actually filled an extensive garden with
them, the very same day he purchased it; not to mention
numberless other antiques, lying neglected in his lumber-room. If
you have anything worth telling me in return, I hope you will not
refuse the trouble of writing to me: not only as we are all of us
naturally fond, you know, of news, but because example has a very
beneficial influence upon our own conduct. Farewell.

XCIII

To GALLUS

THOSE works of art or nature which are usually the motives of
our travels are often overlooked and neglected if they lie within
our rcach: whether it be that we are naturally less inquisitive
concerning those things which are near us, while our curiosity is
excited by remote objects; or because the easiness of gratifying a
desire is always sure to damp it; or, perhaps, that we put off from
time to time going and seeing what we know we have an
opportunity of seeing when we please. Whatever the reason be, it
is certain there are numberless curiosities in and near Rome which
we have not only never seen, but even never so much as heard of:
and yet had they been the produce of Greece, or Egypt, or Asia, or
any other country which we admire as fertile and productive of
belief in wonders, we should long since have heard of them, read
of them, and enquired into them. For myself at least, I confess, I
have lately been entertained with one of these curiosities, to which
I was an entire stranger before. My wife's grandfather desired I
would look over his estate near Ameria.131 As I was walking over
his grounds, 1 was shown a lake that lies below them, called
Vadirnon,132 about which several very extraordinary things are
told. I went up to this lake. It is perfectly circular in form, like a
wheel lying on the ground; there is not the least curve or projection
of the shore, but all is regular, even, and just as if it had been
hollowed and cut out by the hand of art. The water is of a clear
sky-blue, though with somewhat of a greenish tinge; its smell is
sulphurous, and its flavour has medicinal properties, and is
deemed of great efficacy in all fractures of the limbs, which it is
supposed to heal. Though of but moderate extent, yet the winds
have a great effect upon it, throwing it into violent agitation. No
vessels are suffered to sail here, as its waters are held sacred; but
several floating islands swim about it, covered with reeds and
rushes, and with whatever other plants the surrounding marshy
ground and the edge itself of the lake produce in greater
abundance. Each island has its peculiar shape and size, but the
edges of all of them are worn away by their frequent collision with
the shore and one another. They are all of the same height and
motion; as their respective roots, which are formed like the keel of
a boat, may be seen hanging not very far down in the water, and at
an equal depth, on whichever side you stand. Sometimes they
move in a cluster, and seem to form one entire little continent;
sometimes they are dispersed into different quarters by the wind;
at other times, when it is calm, they float up and down separately.
You may frequently see one of the larger islands sailing along with
a lesser joined to it, like a ship with its long boat; or, perhaps,
seeming to strive which shall out-swim the other: then again they
are all driven to the same spot, and by joining themselves to the
shore, sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other, lessen
or restore the size of the lake in this part or that, accordingly, till at
last uniting in the centre they restore it to its usual size. The sheep
which graze upon the borders of this lake frequently go upon these
islands to feed, without perceiving that they have left the shore,
until they are alarmed by finding themselves surrounded with
water; as though they had been forcibly conveyed and placed there.
Afterwards, when the wind drives them back again, they as little
perceive their return as their departure. This lake empties itself
into a river, which, after running a little way, sinks under ground,
and, if anything is thrown in, it brings it up again where the stream
emerges.--I have given you this account because I imagined it
would not be less new, nor less agreeable, to you than it was to
me; as I know you take the same pleasure as myself in
contemplating the works of nature. Farewell.

XCIV

To ARRIANUS

NOTHING, in my opinion, gives a more amiable and becoming
grace to our studies, as well as manners, than to temper the serious
with the gay, lest the former should degenerate into melancholy,
and the latter run up into levity. Upon this plan it is that I diversify
my graver works with compositions of a lighter nature. I had
chosen a convenient place and season for some productions of that
sort to make their appearance in; and designing to accustom them
early to the tables of the idle, I fixed upon the month of July,
which is usually a time of vacation to the courts of justice, in order
to read them to some of my friends I had collected together; and
accordingly I placed a desk before each couch. But as I happened
that morning to be unexpectedly called away to attend a cause, I
took occasion to preface my recital with an apology. I entreated
my audience not to impute it to me as any want of due regard for
the business to which I had invited them that on the very day I had
appointed for reading my performances to a small circle of my
friends I did not refuse my services to others in their law affairs. I
assured them I would observe the same rule in my writings, and
should always give the preference to business, before pleasure; to
serious engagements before amusing ones; and to my friends
before myself. The poems I recited consisted of a variety of
subjects in different metres. It is thus that we who dare not rely for
much upon our abilities endeavour to avoid satiating our readers.
In compliance with the earnest solicitation of my audience, I
recited for two days successively; but not in the manner that
several practise, by passing over the feebler passages, and making
a merit of so doing: on the contrary, I omitted nothing, and freely
confessed it. I read the whole, that I might correct the whole;
which it is impossible those who only select particular passages
can do. The latter method, indeed, may have more the appearance
of modesty, and perhaps respect; hut the former shows greater
simplicity, as well as a more affectionate disposition towards the
audience. For the belief that a man's friends have so much regard
for him as not to be weary on these occasions, is a sure indication
of the love he bears them. Otherwise, what good do friends do you
who assemble merely for their own amusement? He who had
rather find his friend's performance correct, than make it so, is to
be regarded as a stranger, or one who is too lackadaisical to give
himself any trouble. Your affection for me leaves me no room to
doubt that you are impatient to read my book, even in its present
very imperfect condition. And so you shall, but not until I have
made those corrections which were the principal inducement of
my recital. You are already acquainted with some parts of it; but
even those, after they have been improved (or perhaps spoiled, as
is sometimes the case by the delay of excessive revision) will seem
quite new to you. For when a piece has undergone variotis
changes, it gets to look new, even in those very parts which remain
unaltered. Farewell.

XCV

To MAXIMUS

My affection for you obliges me, not indeed to direct you (for you
are far above the want of a guide), but to admonish you carefully
to observe and resolutely to put in practice what you already know,
that is, in other words, to know it to better purpose. Consider that
you are sent to that noble province, Achaia, the real and genuine
Greece, where politeness, learning, and even agriculture itself, are
supposed to have taken their first rise; sent to regulate the
condition of free cities; sent, that is, to a society of men who
breathe the spirit of true manhood and liberty; who have
maintained the rights they received from Nature, by courage, by
virtue, by alliances; in a word, by civil and religious faith. Revere
the gods their founders; their ancient glory, and even that very
antiquity itself which, venerable in men, is sacred in states.
Honour them therefore for their deeds of old renown, nay, their
very legendary traditions. Grant to every one his full dignity,
privileges, yes, and the indulgence of his very vanity. Remember it
was from this nation we derived our laws; that she did not receive
ours by conquest, but gave us hers by favour. Remember, it is
Athens to which you go; it is Lacedaemon you govern; and to
deprive such a people of the declining shadow, the remaining
name of liberty, would be cruel, inhuman, barbarous. Physicians,
you see, though in sickness there is no difference between freedom
and slavery, yet treat persons of the former rank with more
tenderness than those of the latter. Reflect what these cities once
were; but so reflect as not to despise them for what they are now.
Far be pride and asperity from my friend; nor fear, by a proper
condescension, to lay yourself open to contempt. Can he who is
vested with the power and bears the ensigns of authority, can he
fail of meeting with respect, unless by pursuing base and sordid
measures, and first breaking through that reverence he owes to
himself? Ill, believe me, is power proved by insult; ill can terror
command veneration, and far more effectual is affection in
obtaining one's purpose than fear. For terror operates no longer
than its object is present, but love produces its effects with its
object at a distance: and as absence changes the former into hatred,
it raises the latter into respect. And therefore you ought (and I
cannot but repeat it too often), you ought to well consider the
nature of your office, arid to represent to yourself how great and
important the task is of governing a free state. For what can be
better for society than such government, what can be more
precious than freedom? How ignominious then must his conduct
be who turns good government into anarchy, and liberty into
slavery? To these considerations let me add, that you have an
established reputation to maintain: the fame you acquired by the
administration of the quaestorship in Bithynia,133 the good
opinion of the emperor, the credit you obtained when you were
tribune and praetor, in a word, this very government, which may
be looked upon as the reward of your former services, are all so
many glorious weights which are incumbent upon you to support
with suitable dignity. The more strenuously therefore you ought to
endeavour that it may not be said you showed greater urbanity,
integrity, and ability in a province remote from Rome, than in one
which lies so much nearer the capital; in the midst of a nation of
slaves, than among a free people; that it may not be remarked, that
it was chance, and not judgment, appointed you to this office; that
your character was unknown and unexperienced, not tried and
approved. For (and it is a maxim which your reading and
conversation must have often suggested to you) it is a far greater
disgrace losing the name one has once acquired than never to have
attained it. I again beg you to be persuaded that I did not write this
letter with a design of instruction, but of reminder. Though indeed,
if I had, it would have only been in consequence of the great
affection I bear you: a sentiment which I am in no fear of carrying
beyond its just bounds: for there can he no danger of excess where
one cannot love too well. Farewell.

XCVI

To PAULINUS

OThERS may think as they please; but the happiest man, in my
opinion, is he who lives in the conscious anticipation of an honest
and enduring name, and secure of future glory in the eyes of
posterity. I confess, if I had not the reward of an immortal
reputation in view, I should prefer a life of uninterrupted ease and
indolent retirement to any other. There seems to be two points
worthy every man's attention: endless fame, or the short duration
of life. Those who are actuated by the former motive ought to
exert themselves to the very utmost of their power; while such as
are influenced by the latter should quietly resign themselves to
repose, and not wear out a short life in perishable pursuits, as we
see so many doing--and then sink at last into utter self-contempt, in
the midst of a wretche'd and fruitless course of false industry.
These are my daily reflections, which I communicate to you, in
order to renounce them if you do not agree with them; as
undoubtedly you will, who are for ever meditating some glorious
and immortal enterprise. Farewell.

XCVII

To CALVISIUS

I HAVE spent these several days past, in reading and writing, with
the most pleasing tranquillity imaginable. You will ask, "How that
can possibly be in the midst of Rome?" It was the time of
celebrating the Circensian games; an entertainment for which I
have not the least taste. They have no novelty, no variety to
recommend them, nothing, in short, one would wish to see twice.
It does the more surprise me therefore that so many thousand
people should be possessed with the childish passion of desiring so
often to see a parcel of horses gallop, and men standing upright in
their chariots. If, indeed, it were the swiftness of the horses, or the
skill of the men that attracted them, there might be some pretence
of reason for it. But it is the dress134 they like; it is the dress that
takes their fancy. And if, in the midst of the course and contest, the
different parties were to change colours, their different partisans
would change sides, and instantly desert the very same men and
horses whom just before they were eagerly following with their
eyes, as far as they could see, and shouting out their names with all
their might. Such mighty charms, such wondrous power reside in
the colour of a paltry tunic! And this not only with the common
crowd (more contemptible than the dress they espouse), but even
with serious-thinking people. When I observe such men thus
insatiably fond of so silly, so low, so uninteresting, so common an
entertainment, I congratulate myself on my indifference to these
pleasures: and am glad to employ the leisure of this season upon
my books, which others throw away upon the most idle
occupations. Farewell.

XCVIII

To ROMANUS

I AM pleased to find by your letter that you are engaged in
building; for I may now defend my own conduct by your example.
I am myself employed in the same sort of work; and since I have
you, who shall deny I have reason on my side? Our situations too
are not dissimilar; your buildings are carried on upon the
sea-coast, mine are rising upon the side of the Larian lake. I have
several villas upon the borders of this lake, but there are two
particularly in which, as I take most delight, so they give me most
employment. They are both situated like those at Baiae:135 one of
them stands upon a rock, and overlooks the lake; the other actually
touches it. The first, supported as it were by the lofty buskin,136 I
call my tragic; the other, as resting upon the humble rock, my
comic villa. Each has its own peculiar charm, recommending it to
its possessor so much more on account of this very difference.
The former commands a wider, the latter enjoys a nearer view of
the lake. One, by a gentle curve, embraces a little bay; the other,
being built upon a greater height, forms two. Here you have a strait
walk extending itself along the banks of the lake; there, a spacious
terrace that falls by a gentle descent towards it. The former does
not feel the force of the waves; the latter breaks them; from that
you see the fishing-vessels; from this you may fish yourself, and
throw your line out of your room, and almost from your bed, as
from off a boat. It is the beauties therefore these agreeable villas
possess that tempt me to add to them those which are
wanting.--But I need not assign a reason to you; who, undoubtedly,
will think it a sufficient one that I follow your example. Farewell.

XCIX

To GEMINUS

YOUR letter was particularly acceptable to me, as it mentioned
your desire that I would send you something of mine, addressed to
you, to insert in your works. I shall find a more appropriate
occasion of complying with your request than that which you
propose, the subject you point out to me being attended with some
objections; and when you reconsider it, you will think so.--As I did
not imagine there were any booksellers at Lugdunum,137 I am so
much the more pleased to learn that my works are sold there. I
rejoice to find they maintain the character abroad which they
raised at home, and I begin to flatter myself they have some merit,
since persons of such distant countries are agreed in their opinion
with regard to them. Farewell.

C

To JUNIOR

A CERTAIN friend of mine lately chastised his son, in my
presence, for being somewhat too expensive in the matter of dogs
and horses. "And pray," I asked him, when the youth had left us,
"did you never commit a fault yourself which deserved your
father's correction? Did you never? I repeat. Nay, are you not
sometimes even now guilty of errors which your son, were he in
your place, might with equal gravity reprove? Are not all mankind
subject to indiscretions? And have we not each of us our particular
follies in which we fondly indulge ourselves?"

The great affection I have for you induced me to set this instance
of unreasonable severity before you--a caution not to treat your son
with too much harshness and severity. Consider, he is but a boy,
and that there was a time when you were so too. In exerting,
therefore, the authority of a father, remember always that you are a
man, and the parent of a man. Farewell.

CI

To QUADRATUS

THE pleasure and attention with which you read the vindication I
published of Helvidius,139 has greatly raised your curiosity, it
seems, to be informed of those particulars relating to that affair,
which are not mentioned in the defence; as you were too young to
be present yourself at that transaction. When Domitian was
assassinated, a glorious opportunity, I thought, offered itself to me
of pursuing the guilty, vindicating the injured, and advancing my
own reputation. But amidst an infinite variety of the blackest
crimes, none appeared to me more atrocious than that a senator, of
praetorian dignity, and invested with the sacred character of a
judge, should, even in the very senate itself, lay violent hands upon
a member140 of that body, one of consular rank, and who then
stood arraigned before him. Besides this general consideration, I
also happened to be on terms of particular intimacy with
Helvidius, as far as this was possible with one who, through fear of
the times, endeavoured to veil the lustre of his fame, and his
virtues, in obscurity and retirement. Arria likewise, and her
daughter Fannia, who was mother-in-law to Helvidius, were in the
number of my friends. But it was not so much private attachments
as the honour of the public, a just indignation at the action, and the
danger of the example if it should pass unpunished, that animated
me upon the occasion. At the first restoration of liberty141 every
man singled out his own particular enemy (though it must be
confessed, those only of a lower rank), and, in the midst of much
clamour and confusion, no sooner brought the charge than   
procured the condemnation. But for myself, I thought it would be
more reasonable and more effectual, not to take advantage of the
general resentment of the public, but to crush this criminal with
the single weight of his own enormous guilt. When therefore the
first heat of public indignation began to cool, and declining
passion gave way to justice, though I was at that time under great
affliction for the loss of my wife,142 I sent to Anteia, the widow of
Helvidius, and desired her to come to me, as my late misfortune
prevented me from appearing in public. When she arrived, I said to
her, "I am resolved not to suffer the injuries your husband has    
received, to pass unrevenged; let Arria and Fannia" (who were just
returned from exile) "know this; and consider together whether
you would care to join with me in the prosecution. Not that I want
an associate, but I am not so jealous of my own glory as to refuse
to share it with you in this affair." She accordhigly carried this
message; and they all agreed to the proposal without the least
hesitation. It happened very opportunely that the senate was to
meet within three days. It was a general rule with me to consult, in
all my affairs, with Corellius, a person of the greatest
far-sightedness and wisdom this age has produced. However, in the
present case, I relied entirely upon my own discretion, being
apprehensive he would not approve of my design, as he was very
cautious and deliberate. But though I did not previously take
counsel with him (experience having taught me, never to do so
with a person concerning a question we have already determined,
where he has a right to expect that one shall be decided by his
judgment), yet I could not forbear acquainting him with my
resolution at the time I intended to carry it into execution. The
senate being assembled, I came into the house, and begged I might
have leave to make a motion; which I did in few words, and with
general assent. When I began to touch upon the charge, and point
out the person I intended to accuse (though as yet without
mentioning him by name), I was attacked on all sides. "Let us
know," exclaims one, "who is the subject of this informal motion
?" "Who is it" (asked another) "that is thus accused, without
acquainting the house with his name, and his crime?" "Surely"
(added a third) "we who have survived the late dangerous times
may expect now, at least, to remain in security." I heard all this
with perfect calmness, and without being in the least alarmed.
Such is the effect of conscious integrity; and so much difference is
there with respect to inspiring confidence or fear, whether the
world had only rather one should forbear a certain act, or
absolutely condemn it. It would be too tedious to relate all that
was advanced, by different parties, upon this occasion. At length
the consul said, "You will be at liberty, Secundus, to propose what
you think proper when your turn comes to give your opinion upon
the order of the day."143 I replied, "You must allow me a liberty
which you never yet refused to any ;" and so sat down: when
imniediately the house went upon another business. In the
meanwhile, one of my consular friends took me aside, and, with
great earnestness telling me he thought I had carried on this affair
with more boldness than prudence1 used every method of reproof
and persuasion to prevail with me to desist; adding at the same
time that I should certainly, if I persevered, render myself
obnoxious to some future prince. "Be it so," I returned, "should he
prove a bad one." Scarcely had he left me when a second came up:
"Whatever," said he, "are you attempting? Why ever will you ruin
yourself? Do you consider the risks you expose yourself to? Why
will you presume too much on the present situation of public
affairs, when it is so uncertain what turn they may hereafter take?
You are attacking a man who is actually at the head of the
treasury, and will shortly be consul. Besides, recollect what credit
he has, and with what powerful friendships he is supported ?"
Upon which he named a  certain person, who (not without several
strong and suspicious rumours) was then at the head of a powerful
army in the east. I replied,

"'All I've foreseen, and oft in thought revolv'd ;"144

and am willing, if fate shall so decree, to suffer in an honest cause,
provided I can draw vengeance down upon a most infamous one."
The time for the members to give their opinions was now arrived.
Domitius Apollinaris, the consul elect, spoke first; after him
Fabricius Vejento, then Fabius Maximinus, Vettius Proculus next
(who married my wife's mother, and who was the colleague of
Publicius Certus, the person on whom the debate turned), and last
of all Ammius Flaccus. They all defended Certus, as if I had
named him (though I had not yet so much as once mentioned him),
and entered upon his justification as if I had exhibited a specific
charge. It is not necessary to repeat in this place what they
respectively said, having given it all at length in their words in the
speech above-mentioned. Avidius Quietus and Cornutus Tertullus
answered them. The former observed, "that it was extremely unjust
not to hear the complaints of those who thought themselves
injured, and therefore that Arria and Fannia ought not to be denied
the privilege of laying their grievances before the house; and that
the point for the consideration of the senate was not the rank of the
person, but the merit of the cause."

Then Cornutus rose up and acquainted the house, "that, as he was
appointed guardian to the daughter of Helvidius by the consuls,
upon the petition of her mother and her father-in-law, he felt
himself compelled to fulfil the duty of his trust. In the execution of
which, however, he would endeavour to set some bounds to his
indignation by following that great example of moderation which
those excellent women145 had set, who contented themselves with
barely informing the senate of the cruelties which Certus
committed in order to carry on his infamous adulation; and
therefore," he said, "he would move only that, if a punishment due
to a crime so notoriously known should be remitted, Certus might
at least be branded with some mark of the displeasure of that
august assembly." Satrius Rufus spoke next, and, meaning to steer
a middle course, expressed himself with considerable ambiguity. "I
am of opinion," said he, "that great injustice will be done to Certus
if he is not acquitted (for I do not scruple to mention his name,
since the friends of Arria and Fannia, as well as his own, have
done so too), nor indeed have we any occasion for anxiety upon
this account. We who think well of the man shall judge him with
the same impartiality as the rest; but if he is innocent, as I hope he
is, and shall be glad to find, I think this house may very justly deny
the present motion till some charge has been proved against him."
Thus, according to the respective order in which they were called
upon, they delivered their several opinions. When it came to my
turn, I rose up, and, using the same introduction to my speech as I
have published in the defence, I replied to them severally. It is
surprising with what attention, what clamorous applause I was
heard, even by those who just before were loudest against me: such
a wonderful change was wrought either by the importance of the
affair, the successful progress of the speech, or the resolution of
the advocate. After I had finished, Vejento attempted to reply; but
the general clamour raised against him not permitting him to go
on, "I entreat you, conscript fathers,"146 said he, "not to oblige me
to implore the assistance of the tribunes."147  Immediately the
tribune Murena cried out, "You have my permission, most
illustrious Vejento, to go on." But still the clamour was renewed.
In the interval, the consul ordered the house to divide, and having
counted the voices, dismissed the senate, leaving Vejento in the
midst, still attempting to speak. Re made great complaints of this
affront (as he called it), applying the following lines of Homer to
himself:

"Great perils, father, wait the unequal fight;
Those younger champions will thy strength o'ercome."148

There was hardly a man in the senate that did not embrace and kiss
me, and all strove who should applaud me most, for having, at the
cost of private enmities, revived a custom so long disused, of
freely consulting the senate upon affairs that concern the honour of
the public; in a word, for having wiped off that reproach which
was thrown upon it by other orders in the state, "that the senators
mutually favoured the members of their own body, while they
were very severe in animadverting upon the rest of their
fellow-citizens." All this was transacted in the absence of Certus;
who kept out of the way either because he suspected something of
this nature was intended to be moved, or (as was alleged in his
excuse) that he was really unwell. Caesar, however, did not refer
the examination of this matter to the senate. But I succeeded,
nevertheless, in my aim, another person being appointed to
succeed Certus in the consulship, while the election of his
colleague to that office was confirmed. And thus, the wish with
which I concluded my speech, was actually accomplished: "May
he be obliged," said I, "to renounce, under a virtuous prince,149
that reward he received from an infamous one! "150 Some time
after I recollected, as well as I could, the speech I had made upon
this occasion; to which I made several additions. It happened
(though indeed it had the apparance of being something more than
casual) that a few days after I had published this piece, Certus was
taken ill and died. I was told that his imagination was continually
haunted with this affair, and kept picturing me ever before his
eyes, as a man pursuing him with a drawn sword. Whether there
was any truth in this rumour, I will not venture to assert; but, for
the sake of example, however, I could wish it might gain credit.
And now I have sent you a letter which (considering it is a letter) is
as long as the defence you say you have read: but you must thank
yourself for not being content with such information as that piece
could afford you. Farewell.

CII

To GENITOR

I HAVE received your letter, in which you complain of having
been highly disgusted lately at a very splendid entertainment, by a
set of buffoons, mummers, and wanton prostitutes, who were
dancing about round the tables.151 But let me advise you to
smooth your knitted brow somewhat. I confess, indeed, I admit
nothing of this kind at my own house; however, I bear with it in
others. "And why, then," you will be ready to ask, "not have them
yourself ?"

The truth is, because the gestures of the wanton, the pleasantries of
the buffoon, or the extravagancies of the mummer, give me no
pleasure, as they give me no surprise. It is my particular taste, you
see, not my judgment, that I plead against them. And indeed, what
numbers are there who think the entertainments with which you
and I are most delighted no better than impertinent follies! How
many are there who, as soon as a reader, a lyrist, or a comedian is
introduced, either take their leave of the company or, if they
remain, show as much dislike to this sort of thing as you did to
those monsters, as you call them! Let us bear therefore, my friend,
with others in their amusements, that they, in return, may show
indulgence to ours. Farewell.

CIII

To SABINIANUS

YOUR freedman, whom you lately mentioned to me with
displeasure, has been with me, and threw himself at my feet with
as much submission as he could have fallen at yours. He earnestly
requested me with many tears, and even with all the eloquence of
silent sorrow, to intercede for him; in short, he convinced me by
his whole behaviour that he sincerely repents of his fault. I am
persuaded he is thoroughly reformed, because he seems deeply
sensible of his guilt. I know you are angry with him, and I know,
too, it is not without reason; but clemency can never exert itself
more laudably than when there is the most cause for resentment.
You once had an affection for this man, and, I hope, will have
again; meanwhile, let me only prevail with you to pardon him. If
he should incur your displeasure hereafter, you will have so much
the stronger plea in excuse for your anger as you show yourself
more merciful to him now. Concede something to his youth, to his
tears, and to your own natural mildness of temper: do not make
him uneasy any longer, and I will add too, do not make yourself
so; for a man of
your kindness of heart cannot he angry without feeling great
uneasiness. I am afraid, were I to join my entreaties with his, I
should seem rather to compel than request you to forgive him. Yet
I will not scruple even to write mine with his; and in so much the
stronger terms as I have very sharply and severely reproved him,
positively threatening never to interpose again in his behalf. But
though it was proper to say this to him, in order to make him more
fearful of offending, I do not say so to you. I may perhaps, again
have occasion to entreat you upon this account, and again obtain
your forgiveness; supposing, I mean, his fault should be such as
may become me to intercede for, and you to pardon. Farewell.

CIV

To MAXIMUS

IT has frequently happened, as I have been pleading before the
Court of the Hundred, that these venerable judges, after having
preserved for a long period the gravity and solemnity suitable to
their character, have suddenly, as though urged by irresistible
impulse, risen up to a man and applauded me. I have often
likewise gained as much glory in the senate as my utmost wishes
could desire: but I never felt a more sensible pleasure than by an
account which I lately received from Cornelius Tacitus. He
informed me that, at the last Circensian games, he sat next to a
Roman knight, who, after conversation had passed between them
upon various points of learning, asked him, "Are you an Italian, or
a provincial?" Tacitus replied, "Your acquaintance with literature
must surely have informed you who I am." "Pray, then, is it Tacitus
or Pliny I am talking with?" I cannot express how highly I am
pleased to find that our names are not so much the proper
appellatives of men as a kind of distinction for learning herself;
and that eloquence renders us known to those who would
otherwise be ignorant of us. An accident of the same kind
happened to me a few days ago. Fabius Rufinus, a person of
distinguished merit, was placed next to me at table; and below him
a countryman of his, who had just then come to Rome for the first
time. Rufinus, calling his friend's attention to me, said to him,
"You see this man?" and entered into a conversation upon the
subject of my pursuits: to whom the other immediately replied,
"This must undoubtedly be Pliny." To confess the truth, I look
upon these instances as a very considerable recompense of my
labours. If Demosthenes had reason to be pleased with the old
woman of Athens crying out, "This is Demosthenes!" may not I,
then, be allowed to congratulate myself upon the celebrity my
name has acquired? Yes, my friend, I will rejoice in it, and without
scruple admit that I do. As I only mention the judgment of others,
not my own, I am not afraid of incurring the censure of vanity;
especially from you, who, whilst envying no man's reputation, are
particularly zealous for mine. Farewell.

CV

To SABINIANUS

I GREATLY approve of your having, in compliance with my
letter,152  received again into your favour and family a discarded
freedman, who you once admitted into a share of your affection.
This will afford you, I doubt not, great satisfaction. It certainly has
me, both as a proof that your passion can be controlled, and as an
instance of your paying so much regard to me, as either to yield to
my authority or to comply with my request. Let me, therefore, at
once both praise and thank you. At the same time I must advise
you to be disposed for the future to pardon the faults of your
people, though there should be none to interecede in their behalf.
Farewell.

CVI

To LUPERCUS

I SAID once (and, I think, not inaptly) of a certain orator of the
present age, whose compositions are extremely regular and
correct, but deficient in grandeur and embellishment, "His only
fault is that he has none." Whereas he, who is possessed of the true
spirit of oratory, should be bold and elevated, and sometimes even
flame out, be hurried away, and frequently tread upon the brink of
a precipice: for danger is generally near whatever is towering and
exalted. The plain, it is true, affords a safer, but for that reason a
more humble and inglorious, path: they who run are more likely to
stumble than they who creep; but the latter gain no honour by not
slipping, while the former even fall with glory. It is with eloquence
as with some other arts; she is never more pleasing than when she
risks most. Have you not observed what acclamations our
rope-dancers excite at the instant of imminent danger? Whatever is
most entirely unexpected, or as the Greeks more strongly express
it, whatever is most perilous, most excites our admiration. The
pilot's skill is by no means equally proved in a calm as in a storm:
in the former case he tamely enters the port, unnoticed and
unapplauded; but when the cordage cracks, the mast bends, and
the rudder groans, then it is that he shines out in all his glory, and
is hailed as little inferior to a sea-god.

The reason of my making ths observation is, because, if I mistake
not, you have marked some passages in my writings for being
tumid, exuberant, and over-wrought, which, in my estimation, are
but adequate to the thought, or boldly sublime. But it is material to
consider whether your criticism turns upon such points as are real
faults, or only striking and remarkable expressions. Whatever is
elevated is sure to be observed; but it requires a very nice
judgment to distinguish the bounds between true and false
grandeur; between loftiness and exaggeration. To give an instance
out of Homer, the author who can, with the greatest propriety, fly
from one extreme of style to another

"Heav'n in loud thunder bids the trumpet sound;
And wide beneath them groans the rending ground."153

Again,

"Reclin'd on clouds his steed and armour lay."154

So in this passage:

"As torrents roll, increas'd by numerous rills,
With rage impetuous down their echoing hills,
Rush to the vales, and pour'd along the plain,
Roar through a thousand channels to the main."154

It requires, I say, the nicest balance to poise these metaphors, and
determine whether they are incredible and meaningless, or
majestic and sublime. Not that I think anything which I have
written, or can write, admits of comparison with these. I am not
quite so foolish; but what I would be understood to contend for is,
that we should give eloquence free rein, and not restrain the force
and impetuosity of genius within too narrow a compass. But it will
be said, perhaps, that one law applies to orators, another to poets.
As if, in truth, Marc Tully were not as bold in his metaphors as any
of the poets! But not to mention particular instances from him, in a
point where, I imagine, there can be no dispute; does
Demosthenes155 himself, that model and standard of true oratory,
does Demosthenes check and repress the fire of his indignation, in
that well-known passage which begins thus: "These wicked men,
these fiatterers, and these destroyers of mankind," &c. And again:
"It is neither with stones nor bricks that I have fortified this city,"
&c.--And afterwards: "I have thrown up these out-works before
Attica, and pointed out to you all the resources which human
prudence can suggest," &c.--And in another place: "0 Athenians, I
swear by the immortal gods that he is intoxicated with the
grandeur of his own actions," &c.156--But what can be more
daring and beautiful than that long digression, which begins in this
manner: "A terrible disease ?"--The following passage likewise,
though somewhat shorter, is equally boldly conceived :--"Then it
was I rose up in opposition to the daring Pytho, who poured forth a
torrent of menaces against you," &c.157--The subsequent stricture
is of the same stamp: "When a man has strengthened himself, as
Philip has, in avarice and wickedness, the first pretence, the first
false step, be it ever so inconsiderable, has overthrown and
destroyed all," &c.158--So in the same style with the foregoing is
this :--"Railed off, as it were, from the. privileges of society, by the
concurrent and just judgments of the three tribunals in the
city."--And in the same place: "O Aristogiton! you have betrayed
that mercy which used to be shown to offences of this nature, or
rather, indeed, you have wholly destroyed it. In vain then would
you fly for refuge to a port, which you have shut up, and
encompassed with rocks."--He has said before: "I am afraid,
therefore, you should appear in the judgment of some, to have
erected a public seminary of faction: for there is a weakness in all
wickedness which renders it apt to betray itself !"--And a little
lower: "I see none of these resources open to him; but all is
precipice gulf, and profound abyss."-- And again: "Nor do I
imagine that our ancestors erected those courts of judicature that
men of his character should be planted there, but on the contrary',
eradicated, that none may emulate their evil actions."--And
afterwards: "If he is then the artificer of every wickedness, if he
only makes it his trade and traffic," &c.--And a thousand other
passages which I might cite to the same purpose; not to mention
those expressions which Aeschines calls not words, but
wonders.--You will tell me, perhaps, I have unwarily mentioned
Aeschines, since Demosthenes is condemned even by him, for
running into these figurative expressions. But observe, I entreat
you, how far superior the former orator is to his critic, and superior
too in the very passage to which he objects; for in others, the force
of his genius, in those above quoted, its loftiness, makes itself
manifest. But does Aeschines himself avoid those errors which he
reproves in Demosthenes? "The orator," says he, "Athenians, and
the law, ought to speak the same language; but when the voice of
the law declares one thing, and that of the orator another we
should give our vote to the justice of the law, not to the impudence
of the orator."159--And in another place: "He afterwards
manifestly discovered the design he had, of concealing his fraud
under cover of the decree, having expressly declared therein that
the ambassadors sent to the Oretae gave the five talents, not to
you, but to Callias. And that you may be convinced of the truth of
what I say (after having stripped the decree of its gallies, its trim,
and its arrogant ostentation) the clause itself."--And in another
part: "Suffer him not to break cover and escape out of the limits of
the question." A metaphor he is so fond of that he repeats it again.
"But remaining firm and confident in the assembly, drive him into
the merits of the question, and observe well how he doub1es."--Is
his style more reserved and simple when he says: "But you are ever
wounding our ears, and are more concerned in the success of your
daily harangues than for the salvation of the city ?"--What follows
is conceived in a yet higher strain of metaphor: "Will you not expel
this man as the common calamity of Greece? Will you not seize
and punish this pirate of the state, who sails about in quest of
favourable conjunctures," &c.--With many other passages of a
similar nature. And now I expect you will make the same attacks
upon certain expressions in this letter as you did upon those I have
been endeavouring to defend. The rudder that groans, and the pilot
compared to a sea-god, will not, I imagine, escape your criticism:
for I perceive, while I am suing for indulgence to my former style,
I have fallen into the same kind of figurative diction which you
condemn. But attack them if you please provided you will
immediately appoint a day when we may meet to discuss these
matters in person: you will then either teach me to be less daring
or I shall teach you to be more bold. Farewell.

CVII

To CANINIUS

I HAVE met with a story, which, although authenticated by
undoubted evidence, looks very like fable, and would afford a
worthy field for the exercise of so exuberant, lofty, and truly
poetical a genius as your own. It was related to me the other day
over the dinner table, where the conversation happened to run
upon various kinds of marvels. The person who told the story was
a man of unsuspected veracity :--but what has a poet to do with
truth? However, you might venture to rely upon his testimony,
even though you had the character of a faithful historian to
support. There is in Africa a town called Hippo, situated not far
from the sea-coast: it stands upon a navigable lake, communicating
with an estuary in the form of a river, which alternately flows into
the lake, or into the ocean, according to the ebb and flow of the
tide. People of all ages amuse themselves here with fishing,
sailing, or swimming; especially boys, whom love of play brings to
the spot. With these it is a fine and manly achievement to be able
to swim the farthest; and he that leaves the shore and Ms
companions at the greatest distance gains the victory. It happened,
in one of these trials of skill, that a certain boy, bolder than the
rest, launched out towards the opposite shore. He was met by a
dolphin, who sometimes swam before him, and sometimes behind
hiiii, then played round him, and at last took him upon his back,
and set him down, and afterwards took him up again; and thus he
carried the poor frightened fellow out into the deepest part; when
immediately he turns back again to the shore, and lands him
among his companions. The fame of this remarkable accident
spread through the town, and crowds of people flocked round the
boy (whom they viewed as a kind of prodigy) to ask him questions
and hear him relate the story. The next day the shore was thronged
with spectators, all attentively watching the ocean, and (what
indeed is almost itself an ocean) the lake. Meanwhile the boys
swam as usual, and among the rest, the boy I am speaking of went
into the lake, but with more caution than before. The dolphin
appeared again and came to the boy, who, together with his
companions, swam away with the utmost precipitation. The
dolphin, as though to invite and call them back, leaped and dived
up and down, in a series of circular movements. This he practised
the next day, the day after, and for several days together, till the
people (accustomed from their infancy to the sea) began to be
ashamed of their timidity. They ventured, therefore, to advance
nearer, playing with him and calling him to them, while he, in
return, suffered himself to be touched and stroked. Use rendered
them courageous. The boy, in particular, who first made the
experiment, swam by the side of him, and, leaping upon his back,
was carried backwards and forwards in that manner, and thought
the dolphin knew him and was fond of him, while he too had
grown fond of the dolphin. There seemed, now, indeed, to be no
fear on either side, the confidence of the one and tameness of the
other mutually increasing; the rest of the boys, in the meanwhile,
surrounding and encouraging their companion. It is very
remarkable that this dolphin was followed by a second, which
seemed only as a spectator and attendant on the former; for he did
not at all submit to the same familiarities as the first, but only
escorted him backwards and forwards, as the boys did their
comrade. But what is further surprising, and no less true than what
I have already related, is that this dolphin, who thus played with
the boys and carried them upon his back, would come upon the
shore, dry himself in the sand, and, as soon as he grew warm, roll
back into the sea. It is a fact that Octavius Avitus, deputy governor
of the province, actuated by an absurd piece of superstition, poured
some ointment160 over him as he lay on the shore: the novelty and
smell of which made him retire into the ocean, and it was not till
several days after that he was seen again, when he appeared dull
and languid; however, he recovered his strength and continued his
usual playful tricks. All the magistrates round flocked hither to
view this sight, whose arrival, and prolonged stay, was an
additional expense, which the slender finances of this little
community would ill afford; besides, the quiet and retirement of
the place was utterly destroyed. It was thought proper, therefore, to
remove the occasion of this concourse, by privately killing the
poor dolphin. And now, with what a flow of tenderness will you
describe this affecting catastrophe!161 and how will your genius
adorn and heighten this moving story! Though, indeed, the subject
does not require any fictitious embellishments; it will he sufficient
to describe the actual facts of the case without suppression or
diminution. Farewell.

CVIII

To Fuscus

You want to know how I portion out my day, in my summer villa
at Tuscum? I get up just when I please; generally about sunrise,
often earlier, but seldom later than this. I keep the shutters closed,
as darkness and silence wonderfully promote meditation. Thus free
and abstracted from these outward objects which dissipate
attention, I am left to my own thoughts; nor suffer my mind to
wander with my eyes, but keep my eyes in subjection to my mind,
which, when they are not distracted by a multiplicity of external
objects, see nothing but what the imagination represents to them.
If I have any work in hand, this is the time I choose for thinking it
out, word for word, even to the minutest accuracy of expression. In
this way I compose more or less, according as the subject is more
or less difficult, and I find myself able to retain it. I then call my
secretary, and, opening the shutters, dictate to him what I Wave
put into shape, after which I dismiss him, then call him in again,
and again dismiss him. About ten or eleven o'clock (for I do not
observe one fixed hour), according to the weather, I either walk
upon my terrace or in the covered portico, and theie I continue to
meditate or dictate what remains upon the subject in which I am
engaged. This completed, I get into my chariot, where I employ
myself as before, when I was walking, or in my study; and find this
change of scene refreshes and keeps up my attention. On my return
home, I take a little nap, then a walk, and after that repeat out loud
and distinctly some Greek or Latin speech, not so much for the
sake of strengthening my voice as my digestion;162 though indeed
the voice at the same time is strengthened by this practice. I then
take another walk, am anointed, do my exercises, and go into the
bath. At supper, if I have only my wife or a few friends with me,
some author is read to us; and after supper we are entertained
either with music or an interlude. When that is finished, I take my
walk with my family, among whom I am not without some
scholars. Thus we pass our evenings in varied conversation; and
the day, even when at the longest, steals imperceptibly away. Upon
some occasions I change the order in certain of the articles
abovementioned. For instance, if I have studied longer or walked
more than usual, after my second sleep, and reading a speech or
two aloud, instead of using my chariot I get on horseback; by
which oieans I ensure as much exercise and lose less time. The
visits of my friends from the neighbouring villages claim some
part of the day; and sometimes, by an agreeable interruption, they
come in very seasonably to relieve me when I aol feeling tired. I
now and then amuse myself with hunting, but always take my
tablets into



the field, that, if I should meet with no game, I may at least bring
home something. Part of my time too (though not so much as they
desire) is allotted to my tenants; whose rustic complaints, along
with these city occupations, make my literary studies still more
delightful to me. FarewelL

CIX

To PAULINUS

As you are not of a disposition to expect from your friends the
ordinary ceremonial observances of society when they cannot
observe them without inconvenience to themselves, so I love you
too steadfastly to be apprehensive of your taking otherwise than I
wish you should my not waiting upon you on the first day of your
entrance upon the consular office, especially as I am detained here
by the necessity of letting my farms upon long leases. I am obliged
to enter upon an entirely new plan with my tenants: for under the
former leases, though I made them very considerable abatements,
they have run greatly in arrear. For this reason several of them
have not only taken no sort of care to lessen a debt which they
found themselves incapable of wholly discharging, but have even
seized and consumed all the produce of the land, in the belief that
it would now be of no advantage to themselves to spare it. I must
therefore obviate this increasing evil, and endeavour to find out
some remedy against it. The only one I can think of is, not to
reserve my rent in nioney, but in kind, and so place some of my
servants to overlook the tillage, and guard the stock; as indeed
there is no sort of revenue more agreeable to reason than what
arises from the bounty of the soil, the seasons, and the climate. It is
true, this method will require great honesty, sharp eyes, and many
hands. However, I must risk the experiment, and, as in an
inveterate complaint, try every change of remedy. You see, it is not
any pleasurable indulgence that prevents my attending you on the
first day of your consulship. I shall celebrate it nevertheless, as
much as if I were present, and pay my vows for you here, with all
the warmest tokens of joy and congratulation. Farewell.

CX

To FUSCUS

You are much pleased, I find, with the account I gave you in my
former letter of how I spend the summer season at Tuscum, and
desire to know what alteration I make in my method when I am at
Laurentum in the winter. None at all, except abridging myself of
my sleep at noon, and borrowing a good piece of the night before
daybreak and after sunset for study: and if business is very urgent
(which in winter very frequently happens), instead of having
interludes or music after supper, I reconsider whatever I have
previously dictated, and improve my memory at the same time by
this frequent mental revision. Thus I have given you a general
sketch of my mode of life in summer and winter; to which you
may add the intermediate seasons of spring and autumn, in which,
while losing nothing out of the day, I gain but little from the night.
Farewell.

CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I1

TO THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE pious affection you bore, most sacred Emperor, to your
august father induced you to wish it might be late ere you
succeeded him. But the immortal gods thought proper to hasten the
advancement of those virtues to the helm of the commonwealth
which had already shared in the steerage.2 May you then, and the
world through your means, enjoy every prosperity worthy of your
reign: to which let me add my wishes, most excellent Eniperor,
upon a private as well as public account, that your health and
spirits may be preserved firm and unbroken.II

II

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

You have occasioned me, Sir, an inexpressible pleasure in
deeming me worthy of enjoying the privilege which the laws
confer on those who have three children. For although it was from
an indulgence to the request of the excellent Julius Servianus, your
own most devoted servant, that you granted this favour, yet I have
the satisfaction to find by the words of your rescript that you
complied the more willingly as his application was in my behalf. I
cannot but look upon myself as in possession of my utmost wish,
after having thus received, at the beginning of your most
auspicious reign, so distinguishing a mark of your peculiar favour;
at the same time that it considerably heightens my desire of
leaving a family behind me. I was not entirely without this desire
even in the late most unhappy times: as my two marriages will
induce you to believe. But the gods decreed it better, by reserving
every valuable privilege to the bounty of your generous
dispensations. And indeed the pleasure of being a father will be so
much more acceptable to me now, that I can enjoy it in full
security and happiness.

III

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE experience, most excellent Emperor, I have had of your
unbounded generosity to me, in my own person, encourages me to
hope I may be yet farther obliged to it, in that of my friends.
Voconius Romanus (who was my schoolfellow and companion
from our earliest years) claims the first rank in that number; in
consequence of which I petitioned your sacred father to promote
him to the dignity of the senatorial order. But the completion of
my request is reserved to your goodness; for his mother had not
then advanced, in the manner the law directs, the liberal gift3 of
four hundred thousand sesterces, which she engaged to give him,
in her letter to the late emperor, your father. This, however, by my
advice she has since done, having made over certain estates to
him, as well as completed every other act necessary to make the
conveyance valid. The difficulties therefore being removed which
deferred the gratification of our wishes, it is with full confidence I
venture to assure you of the worth. of my friend Romanus,
heightened and adorned as it is not only by liberal culture, but by
his extraordinary tenderness to his parents as well. It is to that
virtue he owes the present liberality of his mother; as well as his
immediate succession to his late father's estate, and his adoption
by his father-in-law. To these personal qualifications, the wealth
and rank of his family give additional lustre; and I persuade myself
it will be some further recommendation that I solicit in his behalf.
Let me, then, entreat you, Sir, to enable me to congratulate
Romanus on so desirable an occasion, and at the same time to
indulge an eager and, I hope, laudable ambition, of having it in my
power to boast that your favourable regards are extended not only
to myself, but also to my friend.

IV
To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WHEN by your gracious indulgence, Sir, I was appointed to
preside at the treasury of Saturn, I immediately renounced all
engagements of the bar (as indeed I never blended business of that
kind with the functions of the state), that no avocations might call
off my attention from the post to which I was appointed. For this
reason, when the province of Africa petitioned the senate that I
might undertake their cause against Marius Priscus, I excused
myself from that office; and my excuse was allowed. But when
afterwards the consul elect proposed that the senate should apply
to us again, and endeavour to prevail with us to yield to its
inclinations, and suffer our names to be thrown into the urn, I
thought it most agreeable to that tranquillity and good order which
so happily distinguishes your times not to oppose (especially in so
reasonable an instance) the will of that august assembly. And, as I
am desirous that all my words and actions may receive the
sanction of your exemplary virtue, I hope you approve of my
compliance.

V

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You acted as became a good citizen and a worthy senator, by
paying obedience to the just requisition of that august assembly:
and I have full confidence you will faithfully discharge the
business you have undertaken.

VI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

HAVING been attacked last year by a very severe and dangerous
illness, I employed a physician, whose care and diligence, Sir, I
cannot sufficiently reward, but by your gracious assistance. I
entreat you therefore to make him a denizen of Rome; for as he is
the freedman of a foreign lady, he is, consequently, himself also a
foreigner. His name is Harpocras; his patroness (who has been
dead a considerable time) was Thermuthis, the daughter of Theon.
I further entreat you to bestow the full privileges of a Roman
citizen upon Hedia and Antonia Harmeris, the freedwomen of
Antonia Maximilla, a lady of great merit. It is at her desire I make
this request.

VII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I RETURN YOU thanks, Sir, for your ready compliance with my
desire, in granting the complete privileges of a Roman to the
freedwomen of a lady to whom I am allied and also for making
Harpocras, my physician, a denizen of Rome. But when, agreeably
to your directions, I gave in an account of his age, and estate, I was
informed by those who are better skilled in the affairs than I
pretend to be that, as he is an Egyptian, I ought first to have
obtained for him the freedom of Alexandria before he was made
free of Rome. I confess, indeed, as I was ignorant of any difference
in this case between those of Egypt and other countries, I
contented myself with Only acquainting you that he had been
manumitted by a foreign lady long since deceased. However, it is
an ignorance I cannot regret, since it affords me an opportunity of
receiving from you a double obligation in favour of the same
person. That I may legally therefore enjoy the benefit of your
goodness, I beg you would be pleased to grant him the freedom of
the city of Alexandria, as well as that of Rome. And that your
gracious intentions may not meet with any further obstacles, I have
taken care, as you directed, to send an account to your freedman of
his age and possessions.

VIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT is my resolution, in pursuance of the maxim observed by the
princes my predecessors, to be extremely cautious in granting the
freedom of the city of Alexandria: however, since you have
obtained of me the freedom of Rome for your physician
Harpocras, I cannot refuse you this other request. You must let me
know to what district he belongs, that I may give you a letter to my
friend Pompeius Planta, governor of Egypt.

IX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I CANNOT express, Sir, the pleasure your letter gave me, by
which I am informed that you have made my physician Harpocras
a denizen of Alexandria; notwithstanding your resolution to follow
the maxim of your predecessors in this point, by being extremely
cautious in granting that privilege. Agreeably to your directions, I
acquaint you that Harpocras belongs to the district of Memphis.4 I
entreat you then, most gracious Emperor, to send me, as you
promised, a letter to your friend Pompeius Planta, governor of
Egypt. As I purpose (in order to have the earliest enjoyment of
your presence, so ardently wished for here) to come to meet you, I
beg, Sir, you would permit me to extend my journey as far as
possible.

X

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I WAS greatly obliged, Sir, in my late illness, to Posthumius
Marinus, my physician; and I cannot make him a suitable return,
but by the assistance of your wonted gracious indulgence. I entreat
you then to make Chrysippus Mithridates and his wife Stratonica
(who are related to Marinus) denizens of Rome. I entreat likewise
the same privilege in favour of Epigonus and Mithridates, the two
sons of Chrysippus; but with this restriction' that they may remain
under the dominion of their father, and yet reserve their right of
patronage over their own freedmen. I further entreat you to grant
the full privileges of a Roman to L. Satrius Abascantius, P. Caesius
Phosphorus, and Pancharia Soteris. This request I make with the
consent of their patrons.

XI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

AFTER your late sacred father, Sir, had, in a noble speech, as well
as by his own generous example, exhorted and encouraged the
public to acts of munificence, I implored his permission to remove
the several statues which I had of the former emperors to my
corporation, and at the same time requested permission to add his
own to the number. For as I had hitherto let them remain in the
respective places in which they stood when they were left to me by
several different inheritances, they were dispersed in distant parts
of my estate. He was pleased to grant my request, and at the same
time to give me a very ample testimony of his approbation. I
immediately, therefore, wrote to the decurii, to desire they would
allot a piece of ground, upon which I might build a temple at my
own expense; and they, as a mark of honour to my design, offered
me the choice of any site I might think proper. However, my own
ill-health in the first place, and later that of your father, together
with the duties of that employment which you were both pleased to
entrust me, prevented my proceeding with that design. But I have
now, I think, a convenient opportunity of making an excursion for
the purpose, as my monthly attendancet ends on the 1st of
September, and there are several festivals in the month following.
My first request, then, is that you would permit me to adorn the
temple I am going to erect with your statue, and next (in order to
the execution of my design with all the expedition possible) that
you would indulge me with leave of absence. It would ill become
the sincerity I profess, were I to dissemble that your goodness in
complying with this desire will at the same time be extremely
serviceable to me in my own private affairs. It is absolutely
necessary I should not defer any longer the letting of my lands in
that province; for, besides that they amount to abovc four hundred
thousand sesterces,6 the time for dressing the vineyards is
approaching, and that business must fall upon my new tenants. The
unfruitfulness of the seasons besides, for several years past,
obliges me to think of making some abatements in my rents; which
I cannot possibly settle unless I am present. I shall be indebted
then to your indulgence, Sir, for the expedition of my work of
piety, and the settlement of my own private affairs, if you will be
pleased to grant me leave of absence8 for thirty days. I cannot give
myself a shorter time, as the town and the estate of which I am
speaking lie above a hundred and fifty miles from Rome.

XII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You have given me many private reasons, and every public one,
why you desire leave of absence; but I need no other than that it is
your desire: and I doubt not of your returning as soon as possible to
the duty of an office which so much requires your attendance. As I
would not seem to check any instance of your affection towards
me, I shall not oppose your erecting my statue in the place you
desire; though in general I am extremely cautious in giving any
encouragement to honours of that kind.

XIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

As I am sensible, Sir, that the highest applause my actions can
receive is to be distinguished by so excellent a prince, I beg you
would be graciously pleased to add either the office of augur or
septemvir' (both which are now vacant) to the dignity I already
enjoy by your indulgence; that I may have the satisfaction of
publicly offering up those vows for your prosperity, from the duty
of my office, which I daily prefer to the gods in private, from the
affection of my heart.

XIV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

HAVING safely passed the promontory of Malea, I am arrived at
Ephesus with all my retinue, notwithstanding I was detained for
some time by contrary winds: a piece of information, Sir, in which,
I trust, you will feel yourself concerned. I propose pursuing the
remainder of my journey to the province10 partly in light vessels,
and partly in post-chaises: for as the excessive heats will prevent
my travelling altogether by land, so the Etesian winds,11 which are
now set in, will not permit me to proceed entirely by sea.

XV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

YOUR information, my dear Pliny, was extremely agreeable to
mc, as it does concern me to know in what manner you arrive at
your province. It is a wise intention of yours to travel either by sea
or land, as you shall find most convenient.

XVI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

As I had a very favourable voyage to Ephesus, so in travelling by
post-chaise from thence I was extremely troubled by the heats, and
also by some slight feverish attacks, which kept me some time at
Pergamus. From there, Sir, I got on board a coasting vessel, but,
being again detained by contrary winds, did not arrive at Bithynia
so soon as I had hoped. However, I have no reason to complain of
this delay, since (which indeed was the most auspicious
circumstance that could attend me) I reached the province in
time to celebrate your birthday. I am at present engaged in
examining the finances of the Prusenses,12 their expenses,
revenues, and credits; and the farther I proceed in this work, the
more I am convinced of the necessity of my enquiry. Several large
sums of money are owing to the city from private persons, which
they neglect to pay upon various pretences; as, on the other hand, I
find the public funds are, in some instances, very unwarrantably
applied. This, Sir, I write to you immediately on my arrival. I
entered this province on the 17th of September,13 and found in it
that obedience and loyalty towards yourself which you justly merit
from all mankind. You will consider, Sir, whether it would not be
proper to send a surveyor here; for I am inclined to think much
might be deducted from what is charged by those who have the
conduct of the public works if a faithful admeasurement were to
be taken: at least I am of that opinion from what I have already
seen of the accounts of this city, which I am now going into as
fully as is possible.

XVII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I SHOULD have rejoiced to have heard that you arrived at
Bithynia without the smallest inconvenience to yourself or any of
your retinue, and that your journey from Ephesus had been as easy
as your voyage to that place was favourable. For the rest, your
letter informs me, my dearest Secundus, on what day you reached
Bithynia. The people of that province will be convinced, I
persuade myself, that I am attentive to their interest: as your
conduct towards them will make it manifest that I could have
chosen no more proper person to supply my place. The
examination of the public accounts ought certainly to be your first
employment, as they are evidently in great disorder. I have
scarcely surveyors sufficient to inspect those works14 which I am
carrying on at Rome, and in the neighbourhood; but persons of
integrity and skill in this art may be found, most certainly, in cvery
province, so that they will not fail you if only you will make due
enquiry.

XVIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THOUGH I am well assured, Sir, that you, who never omit any
opportunity of exerting your generosity, are not unmindful of the
request I lately made to you, yet, as you have often indulged me in
this manner, give me leave to remind and earnestly entreat you to
bestow the praetorship now vacant upon Attius Sura. Though his
ambition is extremely moderate, yet the quality of his birth, the
inflexible integrity he has preserved in a very narrow fortune, and,
more than all, the felicity of your times, which encourages
conscious virtue to claim your favour, induce him to hope he may
experience it in the present instance.

XIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I CONGRATULATE both you and the public, most excellent
Emperor, upon the great and glorious victory you have obtained;
so agreeable to the heroism of ancient Rome. May the immortal
gods grant the same happy success to all your designs, that, under
the administration of so many princely virtues, the splendour of the
empire may shine out, not only in its former, but with additional
lustre.15
XX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

Mv lieutenant, Servilius Pudens, came to Nicomedia,16 Sir, on the
24th of November, and by his arrival freed me, at length, from the
anxiety of a very uneasy expectation.

XXI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

YOUR generosity to me, Sir, was the occasion of uniting me to
Rosianus Geminus, by the strongest ties; for he was my quaestor
when I was consul. His behaviour to me during the continuance of
our offices was highly respectful, and he has treated me ever since
with so peculiar a regard that, besides the many obligations I owe
him upon a public account, I am indebted to him for the strongest
pledges of private friendship. I entreat you, then, to comply with
my request for the advancement of one whom (if my
recommendation has any weight) you will even distinguish with
your particular favour; and whatever trust you shall repose in him,
he will endeavour to show himself still deserving of an higher. But
I am the more sparing in my praises of him, being persuaded his
integrity, his probity, and his vigilance are well known to you, not
only from those high posts which he has exercised in Rome within
your immediate inspection, but from his behaviour when he served
under you in the army. One thing, however, my affection for him
inclines me to think, I have not yet sufficiently done; and
therefore, Sir, I repeat my entreaties that you will give me the
pleasure, as early as possible, of rejoicing in the advancement of
my quaestor, or, in other words, of receiving an addition to my
own honours, in the person of my friend.

XXII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

IT is not easy, Sir, to express the joy I received when I heard you
had, in compliance with the request of my mother-in-law and
myself, granted Coelius Clemens the proconsulship of this
province after the expiration of his consular office; as it is from
thence I learn the full extent of your goodness towards me, which
thus graciously extends itself through my whole family. As I dare
not pretend to make an equal return to those obligations I so justly
owe you, I can only have recourse to vows, and ardently implore
the gods that I may not be found unworthy of those favours which
you are the repeatedly conferring upon me.

XXIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I RECEIVED, Sir, a dispatch from your freedman, Lycormas,
desiring me, if any embassy from Bosporus17 should come here on
the way to Rome, that I would detain it till his arrival. None has
yet arrived, at least in the city18 where I now am. But a courier
passing through this place from the king of Sarmatia,19 I embrace
the opportunity which accidentally offers itself, of sending with
him the messenger which Lycormas despatched hither, that you
might be informed by both their letters of what, perhaps, it may be
expedient you should be acquainted with at one and the same time.

XXIV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I AM informed by a letter from the king of Sarmatia that there are
certain affairs of which you ought to be informed as soon as
possible. In order, therefore, to hasten the despatches which his
courier was charged with to you, I granted him an order to make
use of the public post.20

XXV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE ambassador from the king of Sarmatia having remained two
days, by his own choice, at Nicea, I did not think it reasonable, Sir,
to detain him any longer: because, in the first place, it was still
uncertain when your freedman, Lycormas, would arrive, and then
again some indispensable affairs require my presence in a different
part of the province. Of this I thought it necessary that you should
be informed, because I lately acquainted you in a letter that
Lycormas had desired, if any embassy should come this way from
Bosporus, that I would detain it till his arrival. But I saw no
plausible pretext for keeping him back any longer, especially as
the despatches from Lycormas, which (as I mentioned before) I
was not willing to detain, would probably reach you some (lays
sooner than this ambassador.

XXVI
To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I RECEIVED a letter, Sir, from Apuleius, a military man,
belonging to tile garrison at Nicomedia, informing me that one
Callidromus, being arrested by Maximus and Dionysius (two
bakers, to whom he had hired himself), fled for refuge to your
statue;21 that, being brought before a magistrate, he declared he ,
was formerly slave to Laberius Maximus, but being taken prisoner
by Susagus22 in Moesia,23 he was sent as a present from
Decebalus to Pacorus, king of Parthia, in whose service he
continued several years, from whence he made his escape, and
came to Nicomedia. When be was examined before me, he
confirmed this account, for which reason I thought it necessary to
send24 him to you. This I should have done sooner, but I delayed
his journey in order to make an inquiry concerning a seal ring
which he said was taken from him, upon which was engraven the
figure of Pacorus in his royal robes; I was desirous (if it could have
heen found) of transmitting this curiosity to you, with a small gold
nugget which he says he brought from out of the Parthian mines. I
have affixed my seal to it, the impression of which is a chariot
drawn by four horses,

XXVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

YOUR freedman and procurator,25 Maximus, behaved, Sir, during
all the time we were together, with great probity, attention, and
diligence; as one strongly attached to your interest, and strictly
observant of discipline. This testimony I willingly give him; and I
give it with all the fidelity I owe you.

XXVIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

AFTER having experienced, Sir, in Gabius Bassus, who
commands on the Pontic26 coast, the greatest integrity, honour,
and diligence, as well as the most particular respect to myself, I
cannot refuse him my best wishes and suffrage; and I give them to
him with all that fidelity which is due to you. I have found him
abundantly qualified by having seived in the army under you; and
it is owing to the advantages of your discipline that he has learned
to merit your favour. The soldiery and the people here, who have
had full experience of his justice and humanity, rival each other in
that glorious testimony they give of his conduct, both in public and
in private; and I certify this with all the sincerity you have a right
to expect from me.

XXIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

NYMPHIDIUS Lupus,27 Sir, and myself, served in the army
together; he commanded a body of the auxiliary forces at the same
time that I was military tribune; and it was from thence my
affection for him began. A long acquaintance has since mutually
endeared and strengthened our friendship. For this reason I did
violence to his repose, and insisted upon his attending me into
Bithynia, as my assessor in council. He most readily granted me
this proof of his friendship; and without any regard to the plea of
age, or the ease of retirement, he shared, and continues to share,
with me, the fatigue of public business. I consider his relations,
therefore, as my own; in which number Nymphidius Lupus, his
son, claims my particular regard. He is a youth of great merit and
indefatigable application, and in every respect well worthy of so
excellent a father. The early proof he gave of his merit, when he
commanded a regiment of foot, shows him to be equal to any
honour you may think proper to confer upon him; and it gained
him the strongest testimony of approbation from those most
illustrious personages, Julius Ferox and Fuscus Salinator. And I
will add, Sir, that I shall rejoice in any accession of dignity which
he shall receive as an occasion of particular satisfaction to myself.

XXX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I BEG your determination, Sir, on a point I am exceedingly
doubtful about: it is whether I should place the public slaves28 as
sentries round the prisons of the several cities in this province (as
has been hitherto the practice) or employ a party of soldiers for
that purpose? On the one hand, I am afraid the public slaves will
not attend this duty with the fidelity they ought; and on the other,
that it will engage too large a body of the soldiery. In the
meanwhile I have joined a few of the latter with the former. I am
apprehensive, however, there may be some danger that this method
will occasion a general neglect of duty, as it will afford them a
mutual opportunity of throwing the blame upon each other.

XXXI

TRAJAN TO PLTNY

THERE is no occasion, my dearest Secundus, to draw off any
soldiers in order to guard the prisons. Let us rather persevere in the
ancient customs observed in this province, of employing the public
slaves for that purpose; and the fidelity with which they shall
execute their duty will depend much upon your care and strict
discipline. It is greatly to be feared, as you observe, if the soldiers
should be mixed with the public slaves, they will mutually trust to
each other, and by that means grow so much the more negligent.
But my principal objection is that as few soldiers as possible
should be withdrawn from their standard.

XXXII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

GABIUS BASSUS, who commands upon the frontiers of Pontica,
in a manner suitable to the respect and duty which he owes you,
came to me, and has been with me, Sir, for several days. As far as I
could observe, he is a person of great merit and worthy of your
favour. I acquainted him it was your order that he should retain
only ten beneficiary29 soldiers, two horse-guards, and one
centurion out of the troops which you were pleased to assign to my
command. He assured me those would not be sufficient, and that
he would write to you accordingly; for which reason I thought it
proper not immediately to recall his supernumeraries.

XXXIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I HAVE received from Gabius Bassus the letter you mention,
acquainting me that the number of soldiers I had ordered him was
not sufficient; and for your information I have directed my answer
to be hereunto annexed. It is very material to distinguish between
what the exigency of affairs requires and what an ambitious desire
of extending power may think necessary. As for ourselves, the
public welfare must be our only guide: accordingly it is incumbent
upon us to take all possible care that the soldiers shall not be
absent from their standard.

XXXIV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE PRUSENSES, Sir, having an ancient bath which lies in a
ruinous state, desire your leave to repair it; but, upon examination,
I am of opinion it ought to be rebuilt. I think, therefore, you may
indulge them in this request, as there will be a sufficient fund for
that purpose, partly from those debts which are due from private
persons to the public which I am now collecting in; and partly
from what they raise among themselves towards furnishing the
bath with oil, which they are willing to apply to the carrying on of
this building; a work which the dignity of the city and the
splendour of your times seem to demand.

XXXV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IF the erecting a public bath will not be too great a charge upon the
Prusenses, we may comply with their request; provided, however,
that no new tax be levied for this purpose, nor any of those taken
off which are appropriated to necessary services.

XXXVI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I AM assured, Sir, by your freedman and receiver-general
Maximus, that it is necessary he should have a party of soldiers
assigned to him, over and besides the beneficiarii, which by your
orders I allotted to the very worthy Gemellinus. Those therefore
which I found in his service, I thought proper he should retain,
especially as he was going into Paphlagonia,30 in order to procure
corn. For his better protection likewise, and because it was his
request, I added two of the cavalry. But I beg you would inform
me, in your next despatches, what method you would have me
observe for the future in points of this nature.

XXX VII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

As my freedman Maximus was going upon an extraordinary
commission to procure corn, I approve of your having supplied
him with a file of soldiers. But when he shall return to the duties of
his former post, I think two from you and as many from his
coadjutor, my receiver-general Virdius Gemelhinus, will be
sufficient.

XXXVIII
To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE very excellent young man Sempronius Caelianus, having
discovered two slaves31 among the recruits, has sent them to me.
But I deferred passing sentence till I had consulted you, the
restorer and upholder of military discipline, concerning the
punishment proper to be inflicted upon them. My principal doubt
is that, whether, although they have taken the military oath, they
are yet entered into any particular legion. I request you therefore,
Sir, to inform me what course I should pursue in this affair,
especially as it concerns example.

XXXIX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

SEMPRONIUS CAELINUS has acted agreeably to my orders, in
sending such persons to be tried before you as appear to deserve
capital punishment. It is material however, in the case in question,
to inquire whether these slaves in-listed themselves voluntarily, or
were chosen by the officers, or presented as substitutes for others.
If they were chosen, the officer is guilty; if they are substitutes, the
blame rests with those who deputed them; but if, conscious of the
legal inabilities of their station, they presented themselves
voluntarily, the punishment must fall upon their own beads. That
they are not yet entered into any legion, makes no great difference
in their case; for they ought to have given a true account of
themselves immediately, upon their being approved as fit for the
service.

XL

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

As I have your permission, Sir, to address myself to you in all my
doubts, you will not consider it beneath your dignity to descend to
those humbler affairs which concern my administration of this
province. I find there are in several cities, particularly those of
Nicomedia and Nicea, certain persons who take upon themselves
to act as public slaves, and receive an annual stipend accordingly;
notwithstanding they have been condemned either to the mines,
the public games,32  or other punishments of the like nature.
Having received information of this abuse I have been long
debating with myself what I ought to do. On the one hand, to send
them back again to their respective punishments (many of them
being now grown old, and behaving, as I am assured, with sobriety
and modesty) would, I thought, be proceeding against them too
severely; on the other, to retain convicted criminals in the public
service, seemed not altogether decent. I considered at the same
time to support these people in idleness would be an useless
expense to the public; and to leave them to starve would be
dangerous. I was obliged therefore to suspend the determination of
this matter till I could consult with you. You will be desirous,
perhaps, to be informed how it happened that these persons
escaped the punishments to which they were condemned. This
enquiry I have also made, but cannot return you any satisfactory
answer. The decrees against them were indeed produced; but no
record appears of their having ever been reversed. It was asserted,
however, that these people were pardoned upon their petition to
the proconsuls, or their lieutenants; which seems likely to be the
truth, as it is improbable any person would have dared to set them
at liberty without authority.

XLI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You will remember you were sent into Bithynia for the particular
purpose of correcting those many abuses which appeared in need
of reform. Now none stands more so than that of criminals who
have been sentenced to punishment should not only be set at
liberty (as your letter informs me) without authority; but even
appointed to employments which ought only to be exercised by
persons whose characters are irreproachable. Those therefore
among them who have been convicted within these ten years, and
whose sentence has not been reversed by proper authority, must be
sent back again to their respective punishments: but where more
than ten years have elapsed since their conviction, and they are
grown old and infirm, let them he disposed of in such
employments as are but few degrees removed from the
punishments to which they were sentenced; that is, either to attend
upon the public baths, cleanse the common sewers, or repair the
streets and highways, the usual offices assigned to such persons.

XLII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WHILE I was making a progress in a different part of the province,
a most extensive fire broke out at Nicomedia, which not only
consumed several private houses, but also two public buildings;
the town-house and the temple of Isis, though they stood on
contrary sides of the street. The occasion of its spreading thus far
was partly owing to the violence of the wind, and partly to the
indolence of the people, who, manifestly, stood idle and
motionless spectators of this terrible calamity. The truth is the city
was not furnished with either engines,1 buckets, or any single
instrument suitable for extinguishing fires; which I have now
however given directions to have prepared. You will consider, Sir,
whether it may not be advisable to institute a company of fire-men,
consisting only of one hundred and fifty members. I will take care
none but those of that business shall be admitted into it, and that
the privileges granted them shall not be applied to any other
purpose. As this corporate body will he restricted to so small a
number of members, it will he easy to keep them under proper
regulation.

XLIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You are of opinion it would be proper to establish a company of
firemen in Nicomedia, agreeably to what has been practised in
several other cities. But it is to be remembered that societies of
this sort have greatly disturbed the peace of the province in
general, and of those cities in particular. Whatever name we give
them, and for whatever purposes they may be founded, they will
not fail to form themselves into factious assemblies, however short
their meetings may be. It will therefore be safer to provide such
machines as are of service in extinguishing fires, enjoining the
owners of houses to assist in preventing the mischief from
spreading, and, if it should be necessary, to call in the aid of the
populace.

XLIV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WE have acquitted, Sir, and renewed our annual vows34 for your
prosperity, in which that of the empire is essentially involved,
imploring the gods to grant us ever thus to pay and thus to repeat
them.

XLV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I RECEIVED the satisfaction, my dearest Secundus, of being
informed by your letter that you, together with the people under
your government, have both discharged and renewed your vows to
the immortal gods for my health and happiness.

XLVI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE citizens of Nicomedia, Sir, have expended three millions
three hundred and twenty-nine sesterces35 in building an
aquedtict; bat, not being able to finish it, the works are entirely
falling to ruin. They made a second attempt in another place,
where they laid out two millions.36 But this likewise is
discontinued; so that, after having been at an immense charge to
no purpose, they must still be at a further expense, in oider to be
accommodated with water. I have examined a fine spring from
whence the water may be conveyed over arches (as was attempted
in their first design) in such a manner that the higher as well as
level and low parts of the city may be supplied. There are still
remaining a very few of the old arches; and the square stones,
however, employed in the former building, may be used in turning
the new arches. I am of opinion part should be raised with brick, as
that will be the easier and cheaper material. But that this work may
not meet with the same ill-success as the former, it will be
necessary to send here an architect, or some one skilled in the
construction of this kind of waterworks. And I will venture to say,
from the beauty and usefulness of the design, it will be an erection
well worthy the splendour of your times.

XLVII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

CARE must be taken to supply the city of Nicomedia with water;
and that business, I am well persuaded, you will perform with all
the diligence you ought. But really it is no less incumbent upon
you to examine by whose misconduct it has happened that such
large sums have been thrown away upon this, lest they apply the
money to private purposes, and the aqueduct in question, like the
preceding, should be begun, and afterwards left unfinished. You
will let me know the result of your inquiry.

XLVIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE citizens of Nicea, Sir; are building a theatre, which, though it
is not yet finished, has already exhausted, as I am informed (for I
have not examined the account myself), above ten millions of
sesterces;37 and, what is worse, I fear to no purpose. For either
from the foundation being laid in soft, marshy ground, or that the
stone itself is light and crumbling, the wails are sinking, and
cracked from top to bottom. It deserves your consideration,
therefore, whether it would be best to carry on this work, or
entirely discontinue it, or rather, perhaps, whether it would not be
most prudent absolutely to destroy it: for the buttresses and
foundations by means of which it is from time to time kept up
appear to me more expensive than solid. Several private persons
have undertaken to build the compartment of this theatre at their
own expense, some engaging to crect the portico, others the
galleries over the pit:38 but this design cannot be executed, as the
principal building which ought first to bu completed is now at a
stand. This city is also rebuilding, upon a far more enlarged plan,
the gymnasium,39 which was burnt down before my arrival in the
province. They have already been at some (and, I rather fear, a
fruitless) expense. The structure is not only irregular and
ill-proportioned, but the present architect (who, it must be owned,
is a rival to the person who was first employed) asserts that the
walls, although twenty-two feet40 in thickness, are not strong
enough to support the superstructure, as the interstices are filled up
with quarrystones, and the walls are not overlaid with brickwork.
Also the inhabitants of Claudiopolis41 are sinking (I cannot call it
erecting) a large public bath, upon a low spot of ground which lies
at the foot of a mountain. The fund appropriated for the carrying
on of this work arises from the money which those honorary
members you were pleased to add to the senate paid (or, at least,
are ready to pay whenever I call upon them) for their admission.42
As I am afraid, therefore, the public money in the city of Nicea,
and (what is infinitely more valuable than any pecuniary
consideration) your bounty in that of Nicopolis, should be ill
applied, I must desire you to send hither an architect to inspect, not
only the theatre, but the bath; in order to consider whether, after all
the expense which has already been laid out, it will be better to
finish them upon the present plan, or alter the one, and remove the
other, in as far as may seem necessary: for otherwise we may
perhaps throw away our future cost in endeavot4ring not to lose
what we have already expended.

XLIX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You, who are upon the spot, will best be able to consider and
determine what is proper to be done concerning the theatre which
the inhabitants of Nicea are building; as for myself, it will be
sufficient if you let me know your determination. With respect to
the particular parts of this theatre which are to be raised at a
private charge, you will see those engagements fulfilled when the
body of the building to which they are to be annexed shall be
finished.-- These paltry Greeks43 are, I know, immoderately fond
of gymnastic diversions, and therefore, perhaps, the citizens of
Nicea have planned a more magnificent building for this purpose
than is necessary; however, they must be content with such as will
be sufficient to answer the purpose for which it is intended. I leave
it entirely to you to persuade the Claudiopolitani as you shall think
proper with regard to their bath, which they have placed, it seems,
in a very improper situation. As there is no province that is not
furnished with men of skill and ingenuity, you cannot possibly
want architects; unless you think it the shortest way to procure
them from Rome, when it is generally from Greece that they come
to us.

L

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WHEN I reflect upon the splendour of your exalted station, and the
magnanimity of your spirit, nothing, I am persuaded, can be more
suitable to both than to point out to you such works as are worthy
of your glorious and immortal name, as being no less useful than
magnificent. Bordering upon the territories of the city of
Nicomedia is a most extensive lake; over which marbles, fruits,
woods, and all kinds of materials, the commodities of the country,
are brought over in boats up to the high-road, at little trouble and
expense, but from thence are conveyed in carriages to the sea-side,
at a much greater charge and with great labour. To remedy this
inconvenience, many hands will be in request; but upon such an
occasion they cannot be wanting: for the country, and particularly
the city, is exceedingly populous; and one may assuredly hope that
every person will readily engage in a work which will be of
universal benefit. It only remains then to send hither, if you shall
think proper, a surveyor or an architect, in order to examine
whether the lake lies above the level of the sea; the engineers of
this province being of opinion that the former is higher by forty
cubits,44 I find there is in the neighbourhood of this place a large
canal, which was cut by a king of this country; but as it is left
unfinished, it is nncertain whether it was for the purpose of
draining the adjacent fields, or making a communication between
the lake and the river. It is equally doubtful too whether the death
of the king, or the despair of being able to accomplish the design,
prevented the completion of it. If this was the reason, I am so
much the more eager and warmly desirous, for the sake of your
illustrious character (and I hope you will pardon me the ambition),
that you may have the glory of executing what kings could only
attempt.

LI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THERE is something in the scheme you propose of opening a
communication between the lake and the sea, which may, perhaps,
tempt me to consent. But you must first carefully examine the
situation of this body of water, what quantity it contains, and from
whence it is supplied; lest, by giving it an opening into the sea, it
should be totally drained. You may apply to Calpurnius Macer for
an engineer, and I will also send you from hence some one skilled
in works of this nature.

LII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

UPON examining into the public expenses of the city of
Byzantium, which, I find, are extremely great, I was informed, Sir,
that the appointments of the ambassador whom they send yearly to
you with their homage, and the decree which passes in the senate
upon that occasion, amount to twelve thousand sesterces.45 But
knowing the generous maxims of your government, I thought
proper to send the decree without the ambassador, that, at the same
time they discharged their public duty to you, their expense
incurred in the manner of paying it might be lightened. This city is
likewise taxed with the sum of three thousand sesterces46 towards
defraying the expense of an envoy, whom they annually send to
compliment the governor of Moesia: this expense I have also
directed to be spared. I beg, Sir, you would deign either to confirm
my judgment or correct my error in these points, by acquainting
me with your sentiments.

LIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I ENTIRELY approve, my dearest Secundus, of your having
excused the Byzantines that expense of twelve thousand sesterces
in sending an ambassador to me. I shall esteem their duty as
sufficiently paid, though I only receive the act of their senate
through your hands. The governor of Moesia must likewise excuse
them if they compliment him at a less expense.

LIV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I BEG, Sir, you would settle a doubt I have concerning your
diplomas;47 whether you think proper that those diplomas the
dates of which are expired shall continue in force, and for how
long? For I am apprehensive I may, through ignorance, either
confirm such of these instruments as are illegal or prevent the
effect of those which are necessary.

LV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE diplomas whose dates are expired must by no means be made
use of. For which reason it is an inviolable rule with me to send
new instruments of this kind into all the provinces before they are
immediately wanted.

LVI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

UPON intimating, Sir, my intention to the city of Apamea,38 of
examining into the state of their public dues, their revenue and
expenses, they told me they were all extremely willing I should
inspect their accounts, but that no proconsul. had ever yet looked
them over, as they had a privilege (and that of a very ancient date)
of administering the affairs of their corporation in the manner they
thought proper. I required them to draw up a memorial of what
they then asserted, which I transmit to you precisely as I received
it; though I am sensible it contains several things foreign to the
question. I beg you will deign to instruct me as to how I am to act
in this affair, for I should be extremely sorry either to exceed or
fall short of the duties of my commission.

LVII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE memorial of the Apanieans annexed to your letter has saved
me the necessity of considering the reasons they suggest why the
former proconsuls forbore to inspect their accounts, since they are
willing to submit them to your examination. Their honest
compliance deserves to be rewarded; and they may be assured the
enquiry you are to make in pursuance of my orders shall be with a
full reserve to their privileges.

LVIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE Nicomedians, Sir, before my arrival in this province, had
begun to build a new forum adjoining their former, in a corner of
which stands an ancient temple dedicated to the mother of the
gods.39 This fabric must either be repaired or removed, and for
this reason chiefly, because it is a much lower building than that
very lofty one which is now in process of erection. Upon enquiry
whether this temple had been consecrated, I was informed that
their ceremonies of dedication differ from ours. You will be
pleased therefore, Sir, to consider whether a temple which has not
been consecrated according to our rites may be removed,40
consistently with the reverence due to religion: for, if there should
be no objection from that quarter, the removal in every other
respect would be extremely convenient.

LIX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You may without scruple, my dearest Secundus, if the situation
requires it, remove the temple of the mother of the gods, from the
place where it now stands, to any other spot more convenient. You
need be under no difficulty with respect to the act of dedication;
for the ground of a foreign city41 is not capable of receiving that
kind of consecration which is sanctified by our laws.

LX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WE have celebrated, Sir (with those sentiments of joy your virtues
so justly merit), the day of your accession to the empire, which
was also its preservation, imploring the gods to preserve you in
health and prosperity; for upon your welfare the security and
repose of the world depends. I renewed at the same time the oath
of allegiance at the head of the army, which repeated it after me in
the usual form, the people of the province zealously concurring in
the same oath.

LXI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

YOUR letter, my dearest Secundus, was extremely acceptable,
as it informed me of the zeal and affection with which you,
together with the army and the provincials, solemnised the day of
my accession to the empire.

LXII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE debts which we are owing to the public are, by the prudence,
Sir, of your counsels, and the care of my administration, either
actually paid in or now being collected: but I am afraid the money
must lie unemployed. For as on one side there are few or no
opportunities of purchasing land, so, on the other, one cannot meet
with any person who is willing to borrow of the public42
(especially at 12 per cent, interest) when they can raise money
upon the same terms from private sources. You will consider then,
Sir, whether it may not be advisable, in order to invite responsible
persons to take this money, to lower the interest; or if that scheme
should not succeed, to place it in the hands of the decurii, upon
their giving sufficient security to the public. And though they
should not be willing to receive it, yet as the rate of interest will be
diminished, the hardship will be so much the less.

LXIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I AGREE with you, my dear Pliny, that there seems to be no other
method of facilitating the placing out of the public money than by
lowering the interest; the measure of which you will determine
according to the number of the borrowers. But to compel persons
to receive it who are not disposed to do so, when possibly they
themselves may have no opportunity of employing it, is by no
means consistent with the justice of my government.

LXIV

To TIlE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I RETURN you my warmest acknowledgments, Sir, that, among
the many important occupations in which you are engaged you
have condescended to be my guide on those points on which I have
consulted you: a favour which I must now again beseech you to
grant me. A certain person presented himself with a complaint that
his adversaries, who had been banished for three years by the
illustrious Servilius Calvus, still remained in the province:
they, on the contrary, affirmed that Calvus had revoked their
sentence, and produced his edict to that effect. I thought it
necessary therefore to refer the whole affair to you. For as I have
your express orders not to restore any person who has been
sentenced to banishment either by myself or others so I have no
directions with respect to those who, having been banished by
some of my predecessors in this government, have by them also
been restored. It is necessary for me, therefore, to beg you would
inform me, Sir, how I am to act with regard to the above-
mentioned persons, as well as others, who, after having been
condemned to perpetual banishment, have been found in the
province without permission to return; for cases of that nature
have likewise fallen under my cognisance. A person was brought
before me who had been sentenced to perpetual exile by the
proconsul Julius Bassus, but knowing that the acts of Bassus,
during his administration, had been rescinded, and that the senate
had granted leave to all those who had fallen under his
condemnation of appealing from his decision at any time within
the space of two years, I enquired of this man whether he had,
accordingly, stated his case to the proconsul. He replied he had
not. I beg then you would inform me whether you would have him
sent back into exile or whether you think some more severe and
what kind of punishment should be inflicted upon him, and such
others who may hereafter be found under the same circumstances.
I have annexed to my letter the decree of Calvus, and the edict by
which the persons above-mentioned were restored, as also the
decree of Bassus.

LXV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I WILL let you know my determination concerning those exiles
which were banished for three years by the proconsul P. Servilius
Calvus, and soon afterwards restored to the province by his edict,
when I shall have informed myself from him of the reasons of this
proceeding. With respect to that person who was sentenced to
perpetual banishment by Julius Bassus, yet continued to remain in
the province, without making his appeal if he thought himself
aggrieved (though he had two years given him for that purpose), I
would have sent in chains to my praetorian prefects:43 for, only to
remand him back to a punishment which he has contumaciously
eluded will by no means be a sufficient punishment.

LXVI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WHEN I cited the judges, Sir, to attend me at a sessions44 which I
was going to hold, Flavius Archippus claimed the privilege of
being excused as exercising the profession of a philosopher.45 It
was alleged by some who were present that he ought not only to be
excused from that office, but even struck out of the rolls of judges,
and remanded back to the punishment from which he had escaped,
by breaking his chains. At the same time a sentence of the
proconsul Velius Paullus was read, by which it appeared that
Archippus had been condemned to the mines for forgery. He had
nothing to produce in proof of this sentence having ever been
reversed. He alleged, however, in favour of his restitution, a
petition which he presented to Domitian, together with a letter
from that prince, and a decree of the Prusensians in his honour. To
these he subjoined a letter which he had received from you; as also
an edict and a letter of your august father confirming the grants
which had been made to him by Domitian. For these reasons,
notwithstandng crimes of so atrocious a nature were laid to his
charge, I did not think proper to determine anything concerning
him, without first consulting with you, as it is an affair which
seems to merit your particular decision. I have transmitted to you,
with this letter, the several allegations on both sides.

D0MITIAN'S LETTER TO TERENTIUS MAXIMUS

"Flavius Archippus the philosopher has prevailed with me to give
an order that six hundred thousand sesterces46 be laid out in the
purchase of an estate for the support of him and his family, in the
neighbourhood of Prusias,47 his native country. Let this be
accordingly done; and place that sum to the account of my
benefactions."

FROM THE SAME TO L. APPIUS MAXIMUS

"I recommend, my dear Maximus, to your protection that worthy
philosopher Archippus; a person whose moral conduct is agreeable
to the principles of the philosophy he professes; and I would have
you pay entire regard to whatever he shall reasonably request."

THE EDICT OF THE EMPEROR NERVA

"There are some points no doubt, Quirites, concerning which the
happy tenour of my government is a sufficient indication of my
sentiments; and a good prince need not give an express declaration
in matters wherein his intention cannot but be clearly understood.
Every citizen in the empire will bear me witness that I gave up my
private repose to the security of the public, and in order that I
might have the pleasure of dispensing new bounties of my own, as
also of confirming those which had been granted by predecessors.
But lest the memory of him48 who conferred these grants, or the
diffidence of those who received them, should occasion any
interruption to the public joy, I thought it as necessary as it is
agreeable to me to obviate these suspicions by assuring them of
my indulgence. I do not wish any man who has obtained a private
or a public privilege from one of the former emperors to imagine
he is to be deprived of such a privilege, merely that he may owe
the restoration of it to me; nor need any who have received the
gratifications of imperial favour petition me to have them
confirmed. Rather let them leave me at leisure for conferring new
grants, under the assurance that I am only to be solicited for those
bounties which have not already been obtained, and which the
happier fortune of the empire has put it in my power to bestow."

FROM THE SAME TO TULLIUS JUSTUS

"Since I have publicly decreed that all acts begun and
accomplished in former reigns should be confirmed, the letters of
Domitian must remain valid."

LXVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

FLAVIUS ARCHIPPUS has conjured me, by all my vows for your
prosperity, and by your immortal glory, that I would transmit to
you the memorial which he presented to me. I could not refuse a
request couched in such terms; however, I acquainted the
prosecutrix with this my intention, from whom I have also
received a memorial on her part. I have annexed them both to this
letter; that by hearing, as it were, each party, you may the better be
enabled to decide.

LX VIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT is possible that Domitian might have been ignorant of the
circumstances in which Archippus was when he wrote the letter so
much to that philosopher's credit. However, it is more agreeable to
my disposition to suppose that prince designed he should be
restored to his former situation; especially since he so often had
the honour of a statue decreed to him by those who could not be
ignorant of the sentence pronounced against him by the proconsul
Paullus. But I do not mean to intimate, my dear Pliny, that if any
new charge should be brought against him, you should be the less
disposed to hear his accusers. I have examined the memorial of his
prosecutrix, Furia Prima, as well as that of Archippus himself,
which you sent with your last letter.

LXIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE apprehensions you express, Sir, that the lake will be in
danger of being entirely drained if a communication should be
opened between that and the sea, by means of the river, are
agreeable to that prudence and forethought you so eminently
possess; but I think I have found a method to obviate that
inconvenience. A channel may be cut from the lake up to the river
so as not quite to join them, leaving just a narrow strip of land
between, preserving the lake; by this means it will not only be kept
quite separate from the river, but all the same purposes will be
answered as if they were united: for it will be extremely easy to
convey over that little intervening ridge whatever goods shall be
brought down by the canal. This is a scheme which may be
pursued, if it should be found necessary; but I hope there will be
no occasion to have recourse to it. For, in the first place, the lake
itself is pretty deep; and in the next, by damming up the river
which runs from it on the opposite side and turning its course as
we shall find expedient, the same quantity of water may be
retained. Besides, there are several brooks near the place where it
is proposed the channel shall be cut which, if skilfully collected,
will supply the lake with water in proportion to what it shall
discharge. But if you should rather approve of the channel's being
extended farther and cut narrower, and so conveyed directly into
the sea, without running into the river, the reflux of the tide will
return whatever it receives from the lake. After all, if the nature of
the place should not admit of any of these schemes, the course of
the water may be checked by sluices. These, however, and many
other particulars, will be more skilfully examined into by the
engineer, whom, indeed, Sir, you ought to send, according to your
promise, for it is an enterprise well worthy of your attention and
magnificence. In the meanwhile, I have written to the illustrious
Calpurnius Macer, in pursuance of your orders, to send me the
most skilful engineer to be had.

LXX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT is evident, my dearest Secundus, that neither your prudence nor
your care has been wanting in this affair of the lake, since, in order
to render it of more general benefit, you have provided so many
expedients against the danger of its being drained. I leave it to your
own choice to pursue whichever of the schemes shall be thought
most proper. Calpurnius Macer will furnish you, no doubt, with an
engineer, as artificers of that kind are not wanting in his province.

LXXI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

A VERY considerable question, Sir, in which the whole province
is interested, has been lately started, concerning the state49 and
maintenance of deserted children.50 I have examined the
constitutions of former princes upon this head, but not finding
anything in them relating, either in general or particular, to the
Bithynians, I thought it necessary to apply to you for your
directions: for in a point which seems to require the special
interposition of your authority, I could not content myself with
following precedents. An edict of the emperor Augustus (as
pretended) was read to me, concerning one Annia; as also a letter
from Vespasian to the Lacedaemonians, and another from Titus to
the same, with one likewise from him to the Achaeans, also some
letters from Domitian, directed to the proconsuls Avidius Nigrinus
and Armenius Brocchus, together with one from that prince to the
Lacedaemonians: but I have not transmitted them to you, as they
were not correct (and some of them too of doubtful authenticity),
and also because I imagine the true copies are preserved in your
archives.

LXXII
TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE question concerning children who were exposed by their
parents, and afterwards preserved by others, and educated in a
state of servitude, though born free, has been frequently discussed;
but I do not find in the constitutions of the princes my
predecessors any general regulation upon this head, extending to
all the provinces. There are, indeed, some rescripts of Domitian to
Avidius Nigrinus and Armenhis Brocchus, which ought to be
observed; but Bithynia is not comprehended in the provinces
therein mentioned. I am of opinion therefore that the claims of
those who assert their right of freedom upon this footing should be
allowed; without obliging them to purchase their liberty by
repaying the money advanced for their maintenance.51

LXXIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

HAVING been petitioned by some persons to grant them the
liberty (agreeably to the practice of former proconsuls) of
removing the relics of their deceased relations, upon the
suggestion that either their monuments were decayed by age or
ruined by the inundations of the river, or for other reasons of the
same kind, I thought proper, Sir, knowing that in cases of this
nature it is usual at Rome to apply to the college of priests, to
consult you, who are the sovereign of that sacred order, as to how
you would have me act in this case.

LXX IV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT will be a hardship upon the provincials to oblige them to
address themselves to the college of priests whenever they may
have just reasons for removing the ashes of their ancestors. In this
case, therefore, it will be better you should follow the example of
the governors your predecessors, and grant or deny them this
liberty as you shall see reasonable.

LXXV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I HAVE enquired, Sir, at Prusa, for a proper place on which to
erect the bath you were pleased to allow that city to build, and I
have found one to my satisfaction. It is upon the site where
formerly, I am told, stood a very beautiful mansion, but which is
now entirely fallen into ruins. By fixing upon that spot, we shall
gain the advantage of ornamenting the city in a part which at
present is exceedingly deformed, and enlarging it at the same time
without removing any of the buildings; only restoring one which is
fallen to decay. There are some circumstances attending this
structure of which it is proper I should inform you. Claudius
Polyaenus bequeathed it to the emperor Claudius Caesar, with
directions that a temple should be erected to that prince in a
colonnade-court, and that the remainder of the house should be let
in apartments. The city received the rents for a considerable time;
but partly by its having been plundered, and partly by its being
neglected, the whole house, colonnade-court, and all, is entirely
gone to ruin, and there is now scarcely anything remaining of it but
the ground upon which it stood. If you shall think proper, Sir,
either to give or sell this spot of ground to the city, as it lies so
conveniently for their purpose, they will receive it as a most
particular favour. I intend, with your permission, to place the bath
in the vacant area, and to extend a range of porticoes with seats in
that part where the former edifice stood. This new erection I
purpose dedicating to you, by whose bounty it will rise with all the
elegance and magnificence worthy of your glorious name. I have
sent you a copy of the will, by which, though it is inaccurate, you
will see that Polyaenus left several articles of ornament for the
embellishment of this house; but these also are lost with all the
rest: I will, however, make the strictest enquiry after them that I
am able.

LXXVI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

1 HAVE no objection to the Prusenses making use of the ruined
court and house, which you say are untenanted, for the erection of
their bath. But it is not sufficiently clear by your letter whether the
temple in the centre of the colonnade-court was actually dedicated
to Claudius or not; for if it were, it is still consecrated ground.52

LXXVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I HAVE been pressed by some persons to take upon myself the
enquiry of causes relating to claims of freedom by birth-right,
agreeably to a rescript of Domitian's to Minucius Rufus, and the
practice of former proconsuls. But upon casting my eye on the
decree of the senate concerning cases of this nature, I find it only
mentions the proconsular provinces.53 I have therefore, Sir,
deferred interfering in this affair, till I shall receive your
instructions as to how you would have me proceed.

LXXVIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IF you will send me the decree of the senate, which occasioned
your doubt, I shall be able to judge whether it is proper you should
take upon yourself the enquiry of causes relating to claims of
freedom by birth-right.

LXXIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

JULIUS LARGUS, of Ponus54 (a person whom I never saw nor
indeed ever heard his name till lately), in confidence, Sir, of your
distinguishing judgment in my favour, has entrusted me with the
execution of the last instance of his loyalty towards you. He has
left me, by his will, his estate upon trust, in the first place to
receive out of it fifty thousand sesterces55 for my own use, and to
apply the remainder for the benefit of the cities of Heraclea and
Tios,56 either by erecting some public edifice dedicated to your
honour or instituting athletic games, according as I shall judge
proper. These games are to be celebrated every five years, and to
be called Trajan's games. My principal reason for acquainting you
with this bequest is that I may receive your directions which of the
respective alternatives to choose.

LXXX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

By the prudent choice Julius Largus has made of a trustee, one
would imagine he had known you perfectly well. You will
consider then what will most tend to perpetuate his memory, under
the circumstances of the respective cities, and make your option
accordingly.

LXXXI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

You acted agreeably, Sir, to your usual prudence and foresight in
ordering the illustrious Calpurnius Macer to send a legionary
centurion to Byzantium: you will consider whether the city of
Juliopolis' does not deserve the same regard, which, though it is
extremely small, sustains very great burthens, and is so much the
more exposed to injuries as it is less capable of resisting them.
Whatever benefits you shall confer upon that city will in effect be
advantageous to the whole country; for it is situated at the entrance
of Bithynia, and is the town through which all who travel into this
province generally pass.

LXXXII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE circumstances of the city of Byzantium are such, by the great
confluence of strangers to it, that I held it incumbent upon me, and
consistent with the customs of former reigns, to send thither a
legionary centurion's guard to preserve the privileges of that state.
But if we should distinguish the city of Juliopolis57 in the same
way, it will be introducing a precedent for many others, whose
claim to that favour will rise in proportion to their want of
strength. I have so much confidence, however, in your
administration as to believe you will omit no method of protecting
them from injuries. If any persons shall act contrary to the
discipline I have enjoined, let them be instantly corrected; or if
they happen to be soldiers, and their crimes should be too
enormous for immediate chastisement, I would have them sent to
their officers, with an account of the particular misdemeanour you
shall find they have been guilty of; but if the delinquents should be
on their way to Rome, inform me by letter.

LXXXIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

BY a law of Pompey's58 concerning the Bithynians, it is enacted,
Sir, that no person shall be a magistrate, or be chosen into the
senate, under the age of thirty. By the same law it is declared that
those who have exercised the office of magistrate are qualified to
be members of the senate. Subsequent to this law, the emperor
Augustus published an edict, by which it was ordained that persons
of the age of twenty-two should be capable of being magistrates.
The question therefore is whether those who have exercised the
functions of a magistrate before the age of thirty may he legally
chosen into the senate by the censors?59 And if so, whether, by the
same kind of construction, they may be elected senators, at the age
which entitles them to be magistrates, though they should not
actually have borne any office? A custom which, it seems, has
hitherto been observed, and is said to be expedient, as it is rather
better that persons of noble birth should be admitted into the
senate than those of plebeian rank. The censors elect having
desired my sentiments upon this point, I was of opinion that both
by the law of Pompey and the edict of Augustus those who had
exercised the magistracy before the age of thirty might be chosen
into the senate; and for this reason, because the edict allows the
office of magistrate to be undertaken before thirty; and the law
declares that whoever has been a magistrate should be eligible for
the senate. But with respect to those who never discharged any
office in the state, though they were of the age required for that
purpose, I had some doubt: and therefore, Sir, I apply to you for
your directions. I have subjoined to this letter the heads of the law,
together with the edict of Augustus.

LXXXIV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I AGREE with you, my dearest Secundus, in your construction,
and am of opinion that the law of Pompey is so far repealed by the
edict of the emperor Augustus that those persons who are not less
than twenty-two years of age may execute the office of
magistrates, and, when they have, may be received into the senate
of their respective cities. But I think that they who are under thirty
years of age, and have not discharged the function of a magistrate,
cannot, upon pretence that in point of years they were competent
to the office, legally be elected into the senate of their several
communities.

LXXXV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WHILST I was despatching some public affairs, Sir, at my
apartments in Prusa, at the foot of Olympus, with the intention of
leaving that city the same day, the magistrate Asclepiades
informed me that Eumolpus had appealed to me from a motion
which Cocceianus Dion made in their senate. Dion, it seems,
having been appointed supervisor of a public building, desired that
it might be assigned60 to the city in form. Eumolpus, who was
counsel for Flavius Archippus, insisted that Dion should first be
required to deliver in his accounts relating to this work, before it
was assigned to the corporation; suggesting that he had not acted
in the manner he ought. He added, at the same time, that in this
building, in which your statue is erected, the bodies of Dion's wife
and son are entombed,61 and urged me to hear this cause in the
public court of judicature. Upon my at once assenting to his
request, and deferring my journey for that purpose, he desired a
longer day in order to prepare matters for hearing, and that I would
try this cause in some other city. I appointed the city of Nicea;
where, when I had taken my seat, the same Eumolpus, pretending
not to be yet sufficiently instructed, moved that the trial might be
again put off: Dion, on the contrary, insisted it should be heard.
They debated this point very fully on both sides, and entered a
little into the merits of the cause; when being of opinion that it was
reasonable it should be adjourned, and thinking it proper to consult
with you in an affair which was of consequence in point of
precedent, I directed them to exhibit the articles of their respective
allegations in writing; for I was desirous you should judge from
their own representations of the state of the question between
them. Dion promised to comply with this direction and Eumolpus
also assured me he would draw up a memorial of what he had to
allege on the part of the community. But he added that, being oniy
concerned as advocate on behalf of Arehippus, whose instructions
he had laid before me, he had no charge to bring with respect to
the sepulchres. Archippus, however, for whom Eulnolpus was
counsel here, as at Prusa, assured me he would himself present a
charge in form upon this head. But neither Eumolpus nor
Archippus (though I have waited several days for that purpose)
have yet performed their engagement: Dion indeed has; and I have
annexed his memorial to this letter. I have inspected the buildings
in question, where I find your statue is placed in a library, and as to
the edifice in which the bodies of Dion's wife and son are said to
be deposited, it stands in the middle of a court, which is enclosed
with a colonnade. Deign, therefore, I entreat you, Sir, to direct my
judgment in the determination of this cause above all others as it is
a point to which the public is greatly attentive, and necessarily so,
since the fact is not only acknowledged, but countenanced by
many precedents.

LXXXVI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You well know, my dearest Secundus, that it is my standing
maxim not to create an awe of my person by severe and rigorous
measures, and by construing every slight offence into an act of
treason; you had no reason, therefore, to hesitate a moment upon
the point concerning which you thought proper to consult me.
Without entering therefore into the merits of that question (to
which I would by no means give any attention, though there were
ever so many instances of the same kind), I recommend to your
care the examination of Dion's accounts relating to the public
works which he has finished; as it is a case in which the interest of
the city is concerned, and as Dion neither ought nor, it seems, does
refuse to submit to the examination.

LXXXVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE Niceans having, in the name of their community, conjured
me, Sir, by all my hopes and wishes for your prosperity and
immortal glory (an adjuration which is and ought to be most
sacred to me), to present to you their petition, I did not think
myself at liberty to refuse them: I have therefore annexed it to this
letter.

LXXXVIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE Niceans I find, claim a right, by an edict of Augustus, to the
estate of every citizen who dies intestate. You will therefore
summon the several parties interested in this question, and,
examining these pretensions, with the assistance of the procurators
Virdius Gemellinus, and Epimachus, my freedman (having duly
weighed every argument that shall be alleged against the claim),
determine as shall appear most equitable.

LXXXIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

MAY this and many succeeding birthdays be attended, Sir, with
the highest felicity to you; and may you, in the midst of an
uninterrupted course of health and prosperity, be still adding to the
increase of that immortal glory which your virtues justly merit!

XC

TRAJAN TO PLINY

YOUR wishes, my dearest Secundus, for my enjoyment of many
happy birthdays amidst the glory and prosperity of the republic
were extremely agreeable to me.

XCI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE inhabitants of Sinope62 are ill supplied, Sir, with water,
which however may be brought thither from about sixteen miles'
distance in great plenty and perfection. The ground, indeed, near
the source of this spring is, for rather over a mile, of a very
suspicious and marshy nature; but I have directed an examination
to be made (which will be effected at a small expense) whether it
is sufficiently firm to support any superstructure. I have taken care
to provide a sufficient fund for this purpose, if you should approve,
Sir, of a work so conducive to the health and enjoyment of this
colony, greatly distressed by a scarcity of water.

XCII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I WOULD have you proceed, my dearest Secundus, in carefully
examining whether the ground you suspect is firm enough to
support an aqueduct. For I have no manner of doubt that the
Sinopian colony ought to be supplied with water; provided their
finances will bear the expense of a work so conducive to their
health and pleasure.

XCIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE free and confederate city of the Amiseni63 enjoys, by your
indulgence, the privilege of its own laws. A memorial being
presented to me there, concerning a charitable institution,64 I have
stibjoined it to this letter, that you may consider, Sir, whether, and
how far, this society ought to be licensed or prohibited

XCIV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IF the petition of the Amiseni which you have transmitted to me,
concerning the establishment of a charitable society, be agreeable
to their own laws, which by the articles of alliance it is stipulated
they shall enjoy, I shall not oppose it; especially if these
contributions are employed, not for the purpose of riot and faction,
but for the support of the indigent. In other cities, however, which
are subject to our laws, I would have all assemblies of this nature
prohibited.

XCV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

SUETONIUS TRANQUILLUS, Sir, is a most excellent,
honour-able, and learned man. I was so much pleased with his
tastes and disposition that I have long since invited him into my
family, as my constant guest and domestic friend; and my affection
for him increased the more I knew of him. Two reasons concur to
render the privilege3 which the law grants to those who have three
children particularly necessary to him; I mean the bounty of his
friends, and the ill-success of his marriage. Those advantages,
therefore, which nature has denied to him, he hopes to obtain from
your goodness, by my intercession. I am thoroughly sensible, Sir,
of the value of the privilege I am asking; but I know, too, I am
asking it from one whose gracious compliance with all my desires
I have amply experienced. How passionately I wish to do so in the
present instance, you will judge by my thus requesting it in my
absence; which I would not, had it not been a favour which I am
more than ordinarily anxious to obtain.

XCVI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You cannot but be sensible, my dearest Secundus, how reserved I
am in granting favours of the kind you desire; having frequently
declared in the senate that I had not exceeded the number of which
I assured that illustrious order I would be contented with. I have
yielded, however, to your request, and have directed an article to
be inserted in my register, that I have conferred upon Tranquillus,
on my usual conditions, the privilege which the law grants to these
who have three children,

XCVII66

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

IT is my invariable rule, Sir, to refer to you in all matters where I
feel doubtful; for who is more capable of removing my scruples, or
informing my ignorance? Having never been present at any trials
concerning those who profess Christianity, I am unacquainted not
only with the nature of their crimes, or the measure of their
punishment, but how far it is proper to enter into an examination
concerning them. Whether, therefore, any difference is usually
made with respect to ages, or no distinction is to be observed
between the young and the adult; whether repentance entitles them
to a pardon; or if a man has been once a Christian, it avails nothing
to desist from his error; whether the very profession of
Christianity, unattended with any criminal act, or only the crimes
themselves inherent in the profession are punishable; on all these
points I am in great doubt. In the meanwhile, the method I have
observed towards those who have been brought before me as
Christians is this: I asked them whether they were Christians; if
they admitted it, I repeated the question twice, and threatened
them with punishment; if they persisted, I ordered them to be at
once punished: for I was persuaded, whatever the nature of their
opinions might be, a contumacious and inflexible obstinacy
certainly deserved correction. There were others also brought
before me possessed with the same infatuation, but being Roman
citizens,67 I directed them to be sent to Rome. But this crime
spreading (as is usually the case) while it was actually under
prosecution, several instances of the same nature occurred. An
anonymous information was laid before me containing a charge
against several persons, who upon examination denied they were
Christians, or had ever been so. They repeated after me an
invocation to the gods, and offered religious rites with wine and
incense before your statue (which for that purpose I had ordered to
be brought, together with those of the gods), and even reviled the
name of Christ: whereas there is no forcing, it is said, those who
are really Christians into any of these compliances: I thought it
proper, therefore, to discharge them. Some among those who were
accused by a witness in person at first confessed themselves
Christians, but immediately after denied it; the rest owned indeed
that they had been of that number formerly, but had now (some
above three, others more, and a few above twenty years ago)
renounced that error. They all worshipped your statue and the
images of the gods, uttering imprecations at the same time against
the name of Christ. They affirmed the whole of their guilt, or their
error, was, that they met on a stated day before it was light, and
addressed a form of prayer to Christ, as to a divinity, binding
themselves by a solemn oath, not for the purposes of any wicked
design, but never to commit any fraud, theft, or adultery, never to
falsify their word, nor deny a trust when they should be called
upon to deliver it up; after which it was their custom to separate,
and then reassemble, to eat in common a harmless meal. From this
custom, however, they desisted after the publication of my edict,
by which, according to your commands, I forbade the meeting of
any assemblies. After receiving this account, I judged it so much
the more necessary to endeavor to extort the real truth, by putting
two female slaves to the torture, who were said to officiate' in their
religious rites: but all I could discover was evidence of an absurd
and extravagant superstition. I deemed it expedient, therefore, to
adjourn all further proceedings, in order to consult you. For it
appears to be a matter highly deserving your consideration, more
especially as great numbers must be involved in the danger of
these prosecutions, which have already extended, and are still
likely to extend, to persons of all ranks and ages, and even of both
sexes. In fact, this contagious superstition is not confined to the
cities only, but has spread its infection among the neighbouring
villages and country. Nevertheless, it still seems possible to
restrain its progress. The temples, at least, which were once almost
deserted, begin now to be frequented; and the sacred rites, after a
long intermission, are again revived; while there is a general
demand for the victims, which till lately found very few
purchasers. From all this it is easy to conjecture what numbers
might be reclaimed if a general pardon were granted to those who
shall repent of their error.

XCVIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You have adopted the right course, my dearest Secundtis, in
investigating the charges against the Christians who were brought
before you. It is not possible to lay down any general rule for all
such cases. Do not go out of your way to look for them. If indeed
they should be brought before you, and the crime is proved, they
must be punished;69 with the restriction, however, that where the
party denies he is a Christian, and shall make it evident that he is
not, by invoking our gods, let him (notwithstanding any former
suspicion) be pardoned upon his repentance. Anonymous
informations ought not to he received in any sort of prosecution. It
is introducing a very dangerous precedent, and is quite foreign to
the spirit of our age.

XCIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE elegant and beautiful city of Amastris,70 Sir, has, among
other principal constructions, a very fine street and of considerable
length, on one entire side of which runs what is called indeed a
river, but in fact is no other than a vile common sewer, extremely
offensive to the eye, and at the same time very pestilential on
account of its noxious smell. It will be advantageous, therefore, in
point of health, as well as decency, to have it covered; which shall
be done with your permission: as I will take care, on my part, that
money be not wanting for executing so noble and necessary a
work.

C

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT IS highly reasonable, my dearest Secundus, if the water which
runs through the city of Amastris is prejudicial, while uncovered,
to the health of the inhabitants, that it should be covered up. I am
well assured you will, with your usual application, take care that
the money necessary for this work shall not be wanting.

CI
To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WE have celebrated, Sir, with great joy and festivity, those votive
soleninities which were publicly proclaimed as formerly, and
renewed them the present year, accompanied by the soldiers and
provincials, who zealously joined with us in imploring the gods
that they would be graciously pleased to preserve you and the
republic in that state of prosperity which your many and great
virtues, particularly your piety and reverence towards them, so
justly merit.

CII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

IT was agreeable to me to learn by your letter that the army and the
provincials seconded you, with the most joyful unanimity, in those
vows which you paid and renewed to the immortal gods for my
preservation and prosperity.

CIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

WE have celebrated, with all the warmth of that pious zeal we
justly ought, the day on which, by a most happy succession, the
protection of mankind was committed over into your hands;
recommending to the gods, from whom you received the empire,
the object of your public vows and congratulations.

CIV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I WAS extremely well pleased to be informed by your letter that
you had, at the head of the soldiers and the provincials, solemnised
my accession to the empire with all due joy and zeal.

CV

To TIlE EMPEROR TRAJAN

VALERIUS PAULINUS, Sir, having bequeathed to me the right of
patronage71 over all his freedmen, except one, I intreat you to
grant the freedom of Rome to three of them. To desire you to
extend this favour to all of them would, I fear, be too unreasonable
a trespass upon your indulgence; which, itt proportion as I have
amply experienced, I ought to be so much the more cautious in
troubling. The persons for whom I make this request are C.
Valerius Astraeus, C. Valerius Dionysius, and C. Valerius Aper.

CVI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

YOU act most generously in so early soliciting in favour of those
whom Valerius Paulinus has confided to your trust. I have
accordingly granted the freedom of the city to such of his
freedmen for whom you requested it, and have directed the patent
to be registered: I am ready to confer the same on the rest,
whenever you shall desire me.

CVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

P. ATTIUS AQUILA, a centurion of the sixth equestrian cohort,
requested me, Sir, to transmit his petition to you, in favour of his
daughter. I thought it would be unkind to refuse him this service,
knowing, as I do, with what patience and kindness you attend to
the petitions of the soldiers.

CVIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I HAVE read the petition of P. Attius Aquila, centurion of the sixth
equestrian cohort, which you sent to me; and in compliance with
his request, I have conferred upon his daughter the freedom of the
city of Rome. I send you at the same time the patent, which you
will deliver to him.

CIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I REQUEST, Sir, your directions with respect to the recovering
those debts which are due to the cities of Bithynia and Pontus,
either for rent, or goods sold, or upon any other consideration. I
find they have a privilege conceded to them by several proconsuls,
of being preferred to other creditors; and this custom has prevailed
as if it had been established by law. Your prudence, I imagine, will
think it necessary to enact some settled rule, by which their rights
may always be secured. For the edicts of others, how wisely goever
founded, are but feeble and temporary ordinances~ unless
confirmed and sanctioned by your authority.

CX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE right which the cities either of Pontus or Bithynia claim
relating to the recovery of debts of whatever kind, due to their
several communities, must be determined agreeably to their
respective laws. Where any of these communities enjoy the
privilege of being preferred to other creditors, it must be
maintained; but, where no such privilege prevails, it is not just I
should establish one, in prejudice of private property.

CXI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE solicitor to the treasury of the city of Amisis instituted a
claim, Sir, before me against Julius Piso of about forty thousand
denarii,72 presented to him by the public above twenty years ago,
with the consent of the general council and assembly of the city:
and he founded his demand upon certain of your edicts, by which
donations of this kind are prohibited. Piso, on the other hand,
asserted that he had conferred large sums of money upon the
community, and, indeed, had thereby expended almost the whole
of his estate. He insisted upon the length of time which had
intervened since this donation, and hoped that he should not be
compelled, to the ruin of the remainder of his fortunes, to refund a
present which had been granted him long since, in return for many
good offices he had done the city. For this reason, Sir, I thought it
necessary to suspend giving any judgment in this cause till I shall
receive your directions.

CXII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THOUGH by my edicts I have ordained that no largesses shall be
given out of the public money, yet, that numberless private persons
may not be disturbed in the secure possession of their fortunes,
those donations which have been made long since ought not to be
called in question or revoked. We will not therefore enquire into
anything that has been transacted in this affair so long ago as
twenty years; for I would be no less attentive to secure the repose
of every private man than to preserve the treasure of every public
community.

CXIII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE Pompeian law, Sir, which is observed in Pontus and Bithynia,
does not direct that any money for their admission shall be paid in
by those who arc elected into the senate by the censors. It has,
however, been usual for such members as have been admitted into
those assemblies, in pursuance of the privilege which you were
pleased to grant to some particular cities, of receiving above their
legal number, to pay one73 or two thousand denarii74 on their
election. Subsequent to this, the proconsul Anicius Maximus
ordained (though indeed his edict related to some few cities only)
that those who were elected by the censors should also pay into the
treasury a certain sum, which varied in different places. It remains,
therefore, for your consideration whether it would not be proper to
settle a certain sum for each member who is elected into the
councils to pay upon his entrance; for it well becomes you, whose
every word and action deserves to be immortalized, to establish
laws that shall endure for ever.

CXIV

TRAJAN TO PLINY

I CAN give no general directions applicable to all the cities of
Bithynia, in relation to those who are elected members of their
respective councils, whether they shall pay an honorary fee upon
their admittance or not. I think that the safest method which can be
pursued is to follow the particular laws of each city; and I also
think that the censors ought to make the sum less for those who are
chosen into the senate contrary to their inclinations than for the
rest.

CXV

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE Pompeian law, Sir, allows the Bithynians to give the freedom
of their respective cities to any person they think proper, provided
he is not a foreigner, but native of some of the cities of this
province. The same law specifies the particular causes for which
the censors may expel any member the senate, but makes no
mention of foreigners. Certain of the censors therefore have
desired my opinion whether they ought to expel a member if he
should happen to be a foreigner. But I thought it necessary to
receive your instructions in this case; not only because the law,
though it forbids foreigners to be admitted citizens, does not direct
that a senator shall be expelled for the same reason, but because I
am informed that in every city in the province a great number of
the senators are foreigners. If, therefore, this clause of the law,
which seems to be antiquated by a long custom to the contrary,
should be enforced, many cities, as well as private persons, must
be injured by it. I have annexed the heads of this law to my letter.

CXVI

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You might well be doubtful, my dearest Secundus, what reply to
give to the censors, who consulted you concerning their right to
elect into the senate foreign citizens, though of the same province.
The authority of the law on one side, and long custom prevailing
against it on the other, might justly occasion you to hesitate, The
proper mean to observe in this case will be to make no change in
what is past, but to allow those senators who are already elected,
though contrary to law, to keep their seats, to whatever city they
may belong; in all future elections, however, to pursue the
directions of the Pompeian law: for to give it a retrospective
operation would necessarily introduce great confusion.

CXVII

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

IT is customary here upon any person taking the manly robe,
solemnising his marriage, entering upon the office of a magistrate,
or dedicating any public work, to invite the whole senate, together
with a considerable part of the cornmonalty, and distribute to each
of the company one or two denarii.75 I request you to inform me
whether you think proper this ceremony should be observed, or
how far you approve of it. For myself, though I am of opinion that
upon some occasions, especially those of public festivals, this kind
of invitation may be permitted, yet, when carried so far as to draw
together a thousand persons, and sometimes more, it seems to be
going beyond a reasonable number, and has somewhat the
appearance of ambitious largesses.

CXVIII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You very justly apprehended that those public invitations which
extend to an immoderate number of people, and where the dole is
distributed, not singly to a few acquaintances, but, as it were, to
whole collective bodies, may be turned to the factious purposes of
ambition. But I appointed you to your present government, fully
relying upon your prudence, and in the persuasion that you would
take proper measures for regulating the manners and settling the
peace of the province.

CXIX

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

THE athletic victors, Sir, in the Iselastic76 games, conceive that
the stipend you have established for the conquerors becomes due
from the day they are crowned: for it is not at all material, they
say, what time they were triumphantly conducted into their
country, but when they merited that honour. On the contrary, when
I consider the meaning of the term Iselastic, I am strongly inclined
to think that it is intended the stipend should commence from the
time of their public entry. They likewise petition to be allowed the
treat you give at those combats which you have converted into
Iselastic, though they were conquerors before the appointnient of
that institution: for it is but reasonable, they assert, that they should
receive the reward in this instance, as they are deprived of it at
those games which have been divested of the honour of being
Iselastic, since their victory. But I am very doubtful, whether a
retrospect should be admitted in the case in question, and a reward
given, to which the claimants had no right at the time they
obtained the victory. I beg, therefore, you would be pleased to
direct my judgment in these points, by explaining the intention of
your own benefactions.

CXX

TRAJAN TO PLINY

THE stipend appointed for the conqueror in the Iselastic games
ought not, I think, to commence till he makes his triumphant entry
into his city. Nor are the prizes, at those combats which I thought
proper to make Iselastic, to be extended backwards to those who
were victors before that alteration took place. With regard to the
plea which these athletic combatants urge, that they ought to
receive the Iselastic prize at those combats which have been made
Iselastic subsequent to their conquests, as they are denied it in the
same case where the games have ceased to be so, it proves nothing
in their favour; for notwithstanding any new arrangements which
has been made relating to these games, they are not called upon to
return the recompense which they received prior to such alteration.

CXXI

To THE EMPEROR TRAJAN

I HAVE hitherto never, Sir, granted an order for post-chaises to
any person, or upon any occasion, but in affairs that relate to your
administration. I find myself, however, at present under a sort of
necessity of breaking through this fixed rule. My wife having
received an account of her grandfather's death, and being desirous
to wait upon her aunt with all possible expedition, I thought it
would be unkind to deny her the use of this privilege; as the grace
of so tender an office consists in the early discharge of it, and as I
well knew a journey which was founded in filial piety could not
fail of your approbation. I should think myself highly trngrateful
therefore, were I not to acknowledge that, among other great
obligations which I owe to your indulgence, I have this in
particular, that, in confidence of your favour, I have ventured to
do, without consulting you, what would have been too late had I
waited for your consent.

CXXII

TRAJAN TO PLINY

You did me justice, my dearest Secundus, in confiding in my
affection towards you. Without doubt, if you had waited for my
consent to forward your wife in her journey by means of those
warrants which I have entrusted to your care, the use of them
would not have answered your purpose; since it was proper this
visit to her aunt should have the additional recommendation of
being paid with all possible expedition.

FOOTNOTES TO THE LETTERS OF PLINY

1 A pupil and intimate friend of Paetus Thrasea, the distinguished
Stoic philosopher. Arulenus was put to death by Domitian for
writing a panegyric upon Thrasea.

2 The impropriety of this expression, in the original, seems to ha in
the word stigmosum, which Regulus, probably either coined
through affectation or used through ignorance. It is a word, at
least, which does not occur in any author of authority: the
translator has endeavoured, therefore, to preserve the same sort of
impropriety, by using an expression of like unwarranted stamp in
his own tongue. M.

3 An allusion to a wound he had received in the war between
Vitellius and Vespasian.

4 A brother of Piso Galba's adopted son. He was put to death by
Nero.

5 Sulpicius Camerinus, put to death by the same emperor, upon
some frivolous charge.

6 A select body of men who formed a court of judicature, called
the centurnviral court. Their jurisdiction extended chiefly, if not
entirely, to questions of wills and intestate estates. Their number,
it would seem, amounted to ion. M.

7 Junius Mauricus, the brother of Rusticus Arulenus. Both brothers
were sentenced on the same day, Arulenue to execution and
Mauricui to banishment.

8 There seems to have been a cast of uncommon blackness in the
char. acter of this Regulus; otherwise the benevolent Pliny would
scarcely have singled him out, as he has in this and some following
letters, for the subject of his warmest contempt and indignation.
Yet, infamous as he was, he had his flatterers and admirers; and a
contemporary poet fre. quently represents him as one of the most
finished characters of the age, both in eloquence and virtue. M.

9 The Decurii were a sort of senators in the municipal or soporate
cities of Italy. M.

10 Euphrates was a native of Tyre, or, according to others, of
Byzantium. He belonged to the Stoic school of philosophy. In his
old age he became tired of life, and asked and obtained from
Hadrian permission to put an end to himself by poison." Smith's
Dict. of Greek and Roman Biog.

11 A pleader and historian of some distinction, mentioned by
Tacitus, Ann. XIV. 19, and by Quintilian, X, I, 102.

12 Padua.

13 Domitian

14 Iliad, XII. 243. Pope.

15 Equal to about $4,000 of our money. After the reign of
Augustus the value of the seat ertius.

16 The equestrian dignity, or that order of the Roman people
which we commonly call knights, had nothing in it analogous to
any order of modern knighthood, but depended entirely upon a
valuation of their estates; and every citizen, whose entire fortune
amounted to 400,000 sesterces, that is, to about $16000 of our
money, was enrolled, of course, in the list of knights, who were
considered as a middle order between the senators and common
people, yet, without any other distinction than the privilege of
wearing a gold rrng, which was the peculiar badge of their order."
Life of Cicero, Vol. I. III. in note. M.

17 An elegant Attic orator, remarkable for the grace and lucidity of
his style, also for his vivid and accurate delineations of character.

18 A graceful and powerful orator, and friend of Densosthenes.

19 A Roman orator of the Augustan age. He was a poet and
historian as well, but gained most distinction as an orator.

20 A man of considerable taste, talent, and eloquence, but
profligate and extravagant. He was on terms of some intimacy with
Cicero.

21 The praetor was assisted by ten assessors, five of whom were
senators, asd the rest knights. With these he was obliged to consult
before he pronounced sentence. M.

22 A contemporary and rival of Aristophanes.

23 Aristophanes, Ach. 531

24 Thersites. Iliad, II. V. 212.            

25 Ulysses. Iliad, III. V. 222.

26 Menelaua. Iliad, III. V. 214.

27 Great-grandfather of the Emperor M. Aurelius.

28 An eminent lawyer of Trajan's reign.

29 The philosophers used to hold their disputations in the
gymnasia and porticoes, being places of the most public resort for
walking, &c. M.

30 "Verginius Rufus was governor of Upper Germany at the time
of the revolt of Julius Vindex in Gaul. A.D. 68. The soldiers of
Verginius wished to raise him to the empire, but he refused the
honour, and marched against Vindex, who perished before
Vesontio. After the death of Nero, Verginius supported the claims
of Galba, and accompanied him to Rome. Upon Otho's death, the
soldiers again attempted to proclaim Verginius emperor, and in
consequence of his refusal of the honour, he narrowly escaped
with his life." (See Smith's Dict. of Greek and Rom. Biog., &c.)

31 Nerva.

32 The historian,

33 Namely, of augurs. "This college, as regulated by Sylla,
consisted of fifteen, who were all persons of the first distinction in
Rome; it was a priesthood for life, of a character indelible, which
no crime or forfeiture could efface; it was necessary that every
candidate should be nominated to the people by two augurs, who
gave a solemn testimony upon, oath of his dignity and fitness for
that office." Middleton's Life of Cicero, I. 547. M.

34 The ancient Greeks and Romans did not sit up at the table as
we do, but rtelined round it on couches, three and sometimes even
four occupying one conch, at least this latter was thc custom
among the Romans. Each guest lay flat upon his chest while
eating, reaching out his hand from time to time to the table, for
what he might require. As soon as he had made a sufficient meal,
he turned over upon his left side, leaning on the elbow.


35 A people of Germany.

36" Any Roman priest devoted to the service of one particuiar god
was designated F'lamen, receiving a distinguishing epithet from
the deity to whom he ministered. The office was understood to last
for life; but a flamen might be compelled to resign for a breach of
duty, or even on account of the occurrence of an ill-omened
accident while discharging his functions." Smith's Dictionary of
Antiquities.

37 Trajan.

38 By a law passed A. D. 762, it was enacted that every citizen of
Rome who had three children should be excused from all
troublesome offices where he lived. This privilege the emperors
sometimes extended to those who were not legally entitled to it.

39 About 54 cents.

40 Avenue

41 " Windows made of a transparent stone called lapis specularis
(mica), which was first found in Hispania Citerior, and afterwards
in Cyprus, Cappadocia, Sicily, and Africa; but the best caine from
Spain and Cap. padocia. It was easily split into the thinnest sheets.
Windows, made of this stone were called specularia." Smith's
Dicttonae)' of Antiquities.

42 A feast held in honour of the god Saturn, which began on the
i9th of December, and continued as some say, for seven days. It
was a time of general rejoicing1 particularly among the slaves,
who had at this season the privilege of taking great liberties with
their masters. M.

43 Cicero and Quintilian have laid down rules how far, and in
what instances, this liberty was allowable, and both agree it ought
to be used with great sagacity and judgment. The latter of these
excellent critics mentions a witticism of Flavius Virginius, who
asked one of these orators, "Quot nillia assuum deciamassett" How
many miles he had declaimed. M.

44 This was an act of great ceremony; and if Aurelia's dress was of
the kind which some of the Roman ladies used, the legacy must
have been considerable which Regulus had the impudence to ask.
M.

45 $3,350,000.

46  A poet to whom Quintilian assigns the highest rank, as a
Writer of tragedies, among his contemporaries (book X. C. I. 98).
Tacitus also speaks of him in terms of high appreciation (Annals,
v. 8).

47 Stepson of Augustus and brother to Tiberius. An amiable and
popu. lar prince. He died at the close of his third campaign, from a
fracture received by falling from his horse.

48 A historian under Au?ustus and Tiberius. He wrote part of a
history of Rome, which was continued by the elder Pliny; also an
account of the German war, to which Quintilian makes allusion
(Inst. X. 103), pronouncing him, as a historian, " estimable in all
respects, yet in some things failing to do himself justice."

49 The distribution of time among the Romans was very different
from ours. They divided the night into four equal parts, which they
called watches, each three hours in length; and part of these they
devoted either to the pleasures of the table or to study. The natural
day they divided into twelve hours, the first beginning with
sunrise, and the last ending with sunset; by which means their
hours were of unequal length, varying according to the different
seasons of the year. The time for business began with sunrise, and
continued to the fifth hour, being that of dinner, which with them
was only a slight repast. From thence to the seventh hour was a
time of repose; a custom which still prevails in Italy. The eighth
hour was employed in bodily exercises; after which they constantly
bathed, and from thence went to supper. M.

50 $16,000.

51 Born about A. D. 25. He acquired some distinction as an
advocate. The only poem of his which has come down to us is a
heavy prosaic performance in seventeen books, entitled "Tunica,"
and containing an account of the events of the Second Punic War,
from the capture of Saguntum to the triumph of Scipio Africanus.
See Smith's Dict. of Gr. and Roin. Biog.

52 Trajan.

53 Spurinna's wife.

54 Domitian banished the philosophers not only from Rome, but
Italy, as Suetonius (Dom. C. X.) and Aulus Gellius (Noct. Att. b.
XV. CXI. 3, 4, 5) Inform us among these was the celebrated
Epictetus. M.

55 The following is the story, as related by several of the ancient
his' lorians. Paetus, having joined Scribonianus, who was in arms,
in Illyria, egainst Claudius, was taken after the death of
Scribonianus, and condemned to death. Arria having, in vain,
solicited his life, persuaded him to destroy himself, rather than
suffer the ignominy of falling by the executioner's hands; and, in
order to encourage him to an act, to which, it seems, he was not
particularly inclined, she set him the example in the manner Pliny
relates. M.

56 Trajan.

57 The Roman, used to employ their criminals in the lower o~ces
of husbandry, such as ploughing, &c. Pun. H. N. 1. 18, 3. M.

58 About $500,000.  

59 About $800,000.

60 One of the famous seven hills upon which Rome was situated.

61 Mart. LX. 19.

62 Calpusnia, Pliny's wife.   

63 Now Citta di Castello.

64 The Romans had an absolute power over their children, of
which no age or station of the latter deprived them.

65 Their business was to interpret dreams, oracles, prodigies, &c.,
and to foretell whether any action should be fortunate or
prejudicial, to particular persons, orto the whole commonwealth.
Upon this account, they very often occasioned the displacing of
magistrates, the deferring of public issemblies, &c. Kennet's Ron,.
Antig. M.

66 Trajan.

67 A slave was incapable of property; and, therefore, whatever he
acquiredbecame the right of his master. M.

68 "Their office was to attend upon the rites of Vests, the chief
part of which was the preservation of the holy fire. If this fire
happened to go out, it was considered impiety to light it at any
common flame, but they made use of the pure and unpolluted rays
of the sun for that purpose. There were various other duties besides
connected with their office. The chief rules prescribed them were,
to vow the strictest chastity, for the space of thirty years. After this
term was completed, they had liberty to leave the order. If they
broke their vow of virginity. they were buried alive in a place
allotted to that peculiar use." Kennet's Antiq. Their reputatiun for
sanctity was so high that Livy mentions the fact of two of those
virgins having violated their vows, as a prodigy that, threatened
destruction to the Roman state. Lib. XXII. C. 57. And Suetonius
inform, us that Augiastus had so high an opinion of this religious
order, that he consigned the care of his will to the Vestal Virgins.
Suet, in vit. Aug. C. XCI. M.

69 It was usual with Domitian to triumph, not only without a
victory, but even after a defeat, M.

70 Euripides' Hecuba,

71 The punishment inflicted upon the violators of Vestal chastity
was to be scourged to death. M.

72 Calpurnia, Pliny's wife.

73 Gratilla was the wife of Rusticus: Rusticus was put to death by
Domitian, and Gratilla banished. It was sufficient crime in the
reign of that execrable prince to be even a friend of those who
were obnoxious to him. M.

74 In the original, scrinium, box for holding MSS.

75 The hippodromus, in its proper signification, was a place,
among the Grecians, set apart for horse-racing and other exercises
of that kind. But it seems here to be nothing more than a particular
walk, to which Pliny perhaps gave that name, from its bearing
some resemblance in its form to the public places so called. M.

76 Now called Frascati, Tivoli, and Palestrina, all of them situated
in the Campagna di Roma, and at no great distance from Rome. M.

77 "This is said in allusion to the idea of Nemesis supposed to
threaten cxcessive prosperity." (Church and Brodribb.)

78 About $15,000.   

79 About $42,000.

80 None had the right of using family pictures or statues but those
whose ancestors or themselves had borne some of the highest
dignities. So that the jus imaginis was much the same thing among
the Romans as the right of bearing a coat of arms among us. Ken.
Antiq. M.

81 The Roman physicians used to send their patients in
consumptive cases into Egypt, particularly to Alexandria. M.

82 Frejus, in Provence. the southern part of France. M.

83 A court of 3ustice erected by Julius Caesar in the forum, and
opposite to the basilica Aemilia.

84 The deceniviri seem to have been magistrates for the
administration of justice, subordinate to the praetors, who (to give
the English reader a genera1 notion of their office) may be termed
lords chief justices, as the judges here mentioned were something
in the nature of our juries. M.

85 About $400.

86 This silly piece of superstition seems to have been peculiar to
Regulus. and not of any general practice; at least it is a custom of
which we find no other mention in antiquity. M.

87 "We gather from Martial that the wesring of these was not an
unusual practice with fops and dandies. See Epig. II. 29, in which
he ridicules a certain Rufus, and hints that if you were to strip off
the  'splenia (plasters) '" from his face, you would find out that he
was a branded runaway slave." (Church and Brodribb.)

88 His wife.

89 Horn. II. lib, I. V. 88.

90 Now Alzia, not far frorn Corno.

91 Nevertheless, Javolentis Priscus was one of the most eminent
lawyers of his time, and is frequently quoted in the Digesta of
Justinian.

92 In the Bay of Naples.

93 The Romans used to lie or walk naked in the sun, after
anointing their bodies with oil, which was esteemed as greatly
contributing to health, and therefore daily practised by them. This
custom, however, of anointing themselves, is inveighed against by
the Satirists as in the number of their luxurious indulgences: but
since we find the elder Pliny here, and the amiable Spurinna in a
former letter, practising this method, we can not suppose the thing
itself was cstcemed unmanly, but only when it was attended with
some particular circumstances of an over-refined delicacy. M.

94 Now called Castelamare, in the Bay of Naples. M.

95 The Stoic and Epicurean philosophers held that the world was
to be destroyed by fire, and all things fall again into original chaos;
not excepting even the national gods themselves from the
destruction of this general conflagration. M.

96 The lake Larius.

97 Those families were styled patrician whose ancestors had
been membersof the senate in the earliest times of the regal or
consular government. M.

98 Trajan

99 The consuls, though they were chosen in August, did not enter
upon their office till the first of January, during which interval they
were styled consules designati, consuls elect. It was usual for them
upon that occasion to compliment the emperor, by whose
appointment, after the dissolution of the republican government,
they were chosen. M.

100 'So called, because it formerly belonged to Camillus. M.

101 Civita Vecchia.

102 Trajan.

103 An officer in the Roman legions, answering in some sort to a
captain  In our companies. M.


104 This law was made by Augustus Caesar; but it nowhere clearly
appears what was the peculiar punishment it inflicted. M.

105 An officer employed by the emperor to receive and regulate
the public revenue in the provinces. M.

106 Comprehending Transylvania, Moldavia, and Walaehia. M.

107 Polycletus was a freedman, and great favourite of Nero. M.

108 Memmius, or Rhemmius (the critics are not agreed which),
was author of a law by which it was enacted that whosoever was
convicted of calumny and false accusation should be stigmatised
with a mark in his forehead; and by the law of the twelve tables,
false accusers were to suffer the same punishment as would have
been inflicted upon the person unjustly accused if the crime had
been proved. M.

109 Trajan.

110 Unction was much esteemed and prescribed by the
ancients.Celsus. expressly recommends it in the remission of acute
distempers: ungi leniterque pertractari corpus, etiam in acutic et
rccent,bus niorbis opartet; us rernissione fnmen," &c. Celsi Med.
ed. Aliucloveen, p. 88. M.

111 His wife.

112 See book V. letter XX.

113 Trajan.

114 One of the Bithynians employed to manage the trial. M.

115 About $28,000.

116 About $.26,000.

117 There is a kind of witticism in this expreasion, which will be
lost to the mere English reader unless he be informed that the
Romans had a privilege, confirmed to them by several laws which
passed in the earlier ages of the republic, of appealing from the
decisions of the magistrates to the general assembly of the people:
and they did so in the form of words which Pomponius here
applies to a different purpose. M.

118 The priests, as well as other magistrates, exhibited public
games to the people when they entered upon their office. M.

119 A famous lawyer who flourished in the reign of the emperor
Claudius: those who followed his opinions were said to be
Cassians, or of the school of Cassius. M.

120 A Stoic philosopher and native of Tarsus. He was tutor
for some time to Octavius, afterwards Augustus, Caesar.

121 Balzac very prettily observes: "II y a des riviere: qui ne font
jamais tact de bien que quand elles se dibordent; de eneme,
!'amitie n'a mealleur quo I'excŠs." M.

122 Persons of rank and literature among the Romans retained
in their families a domestic whose sole business was to read to
them. M.

123 It was a doctrine maintained by the Stoics that all crimes
are equal M.

124 About $400.

125 About $600.

126 About $93.

127 Horn. II. lib. IX. V. 319.

128 Those of Nero and Domitian. M.

129 When Nerva and Trajan received the empire. M.

130  A slave could acquire no property, and consequently was
incapable bylaw of making a will. M.

131 Now called Amelia, a town in Ombria. M.

132 Now Laghetto di Bassano. M.

133 A province in Anatolia, or Asia Minor. M.

134 The performers at these gaines were divided into companies,
distinguished by the particular colour of their habits; the principal
of which were the white, the red, the blue, and the green.
Accordingly the spectators favoured one or the other colour, as
humour and caprice inclined them. In the reign of Justinian a
tumult arose in Constantinople, occasioned merely by a contention
among the partisans of these several colours, wherein no less than
30,000 men lost their lives. M.

135 Now called Castello di Baia, in Terra di Lavoro. It was the
place the Romans chose for their winter retreat; and which they
frequented upon account of its warm baths. Sonic few ruins of the
beautiful villas that once covered this delightful coast still remain;
and nothing can give one a higher idea of the prodigious expense
and magnificence of the Romans in their private buildings than the
manner in which some of these were situated. It appears from this
letter, as well as from several other passages in the classic writers,
that they actually projected into the sea, being erected upon vast
piles, sunk for that purpose.

136 The buskin was a kind of high shoe worn upon the stage by the
actors of tragedy, in order ,to give them a more heroical elevation
of stature; as the sock was something between a shoe and stocking,
it was appropriated to the comic players. M.

137 Lyons.

138 He was accused of treason, under pretence that in a dramatic
piece which he composed he had, in the characters of Paris and
Oenone, reflected upon Domitian for divorcing his wife Domitia.
Suet, in Vit. Domit. C.  10. M.

139 Helvidius.

140 Upon the accession of Nerva to the empire, after the death of
Domitian. M.

142 Our authors first wife; of whom we have no particular
account. After her death, he married his favourite Caipurnia. M.

143 1t is very remarkable that, when any senator was asked his
opinion in the house, he,had the privilege of speaking as long as he
pleased upon any other affair before he came to the point in
question. Aul. Gell. IV. C. 10. M.

144 Aeneid, LIB. VI. V. 105.

145 Arria and Fannia.

146 The appellation by which the senate was addressed. M.

147 The tribunes were magistrates chosen at first out of the body
of the commons, for the defence of their liberties, and to interpose
in all grievances offered by their superiors. Their authority
extended even to the deliberations of the senate. M,

148 Diomed's speech to Nestor, advising him to retire from the
field of battle. Iliad, VIII. 302. Pope. M.

149 Nerva.

150 Domitian; by whom he had been appointed consul elect,
though he had not yet entered upon that office. M.

151 These persons were introduced at most of the tables of the
great, for the purposes of mirth and gaiety, and constituted an
essential part in all polite entertainments among the Ron'.ans. It is
surprising how soon this great people fell off from their original
severity of manners, and were tainted with the stale refinements of
foreign luxury. Livy dates the rise of this and other unmanly
delicacies from the conquest of Scipio Asiaticus over Antiochus;
that is. when the Roman name had scarce subsisted above a
hundred and threescore years. "Luxuriae peregrinae origio,' says
he, "ezxercitu Asiatico in urbem invecta est." This triumphant
army caught, it seems, the contagious softness of the people it
subdued; and, on its return to Rome, spread an infection among
their countrymen, which worked by slow degrees, till it effected
their total destruction. Thus did Eastern luxury revenge itself on
Roman arms. It may be wondered that Pliny should keep his own
temper, and check the indignation of his friends at a scene which
was fit only for the dissolute revels of the infamous Trimalchio.
But it will not, perhaps, be doing justice to our author to take an
estimate of his real sentinients upon this point from the letter
before  us. Genitor, it seems, was a man of strict, but rather of too
austere morals for the free turn of the age: '' emendatus et gravis:
paulo etiam horridior et durior ut in hac licentia teniporuni" (Ep.
III. 1. 3). But as there is a certain seasonable accommodation to
the manners of the times, not only extremely Consistent with, but
highly conducive to, the interests of virtue, Pliny. probably, may
affect a greater latitude than he in general approved, in order to
draw off his friend from that stiffness and unyielding disposition
which might prejudice those of a gayer turn against him, and
consequently lessen the beneficial influence of his virtues upon the
world. M.

152 See letter CIII.

153 Iliad, XXI. 387. Pope. M.

154 Iliad, V. 356, speaking of Mars. M.

154 Iliad, IV. 452. Pope.

155 The design of Pliny in this letter is to justify the figurative
expressions he had employed, probably, in same oration, by
instances of the same warmth of colourin? from those great
masters of eloquence, Demosthenes and his rival Aesehines. But
the force of the passages which he produces from those orators
must necessarily be greatly weakened to a mere modern reader,
some of them being only hinted at, as generally well known; and
the metaphors in several of the others have either lost much of
their original spirit and boldness, by being introduced and received
in Common language, or cannot, perhaps, he preaervcd in an
English translation. M.

156 See 1st Philippic.

157 See Deniosthenes' speech in defence of Cteisphon.

158 See end Olynthiac.

159 See Aesehines' speech against Ctesiphon.

160 It was a religious ceremony practised by the ancients to pour
precious ointments upon the statues of their gods: Avitus, it is
probable, imagined this dolphin was some sea-divinity, and
therefore expressed his vcneration of him by the solemnity of a
sacred unction. M.

161 The overflowing humanity of Pliny's temper breaks out upon
all occasions, but he discovers it in nothing more strongly than by
the impression which this little story appears to have made upon
him. True benevolence, indeed, extends itself thrcugh the whole
compass of existence, and sympathises with the distress of every
creature of sensation. Little minds may be apt to consider a
compassion of this inferior kind as an instance of weakness; but it
is undoubtedly the evidence of a noble nature. Homer thought it
not unbecoming the character even of a hero to melt into tears at a
distress of this sort, and has given us a most amiable and affecting
picture of Ulysses weeping over his faithful dog Argus, when he
expires at his feet:

Soft pity toueh'd the mighty master's soul;
Adown his cheek the tear unbidden stole,
Stole unperceived; he turn'd his head and dry'd
The drop humane." .
(Odyss. XVII. Pope.) M.

162 By the regimen which Pliny here follows, one would imagine,
if he had not told us who were his physicians, that the celebrated
Celsus was in the number. That author expressly recommends
reading aloud, and afterwards walking, as beneficial in disorders
of the stomach: "Si quis stomacho laborat, leqere clare debet; post
lectionem ambulare," &c. Celsi Medic. 1. I. C. 8. M.

FOOTNOTES TO THE CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE EMPEROR
TRAJAN

1 The greater part of the following letters were written by Pliny
during his administration in the province of Bithynia. They are of a
style and character extremely different from those in the preceding
collection; whence some critics have injudiciously inferred that
they are the production of another hand: not considering that the
occasion necessarily required a different manner. In letters of
business, as these chiefly are, turn and sentiment would be foreign
and impertinent; politeness and elegance of expression being the
essentials that constitute perfection in this kind: and in that view,
though they may be less entertaining, they have not less merit than
the former. But besides their particular excellence as letters, they
have a farther recommendation as so many valuable pieces of
history, by throwing a strong light upon the character of one of the
most amiable and glorious princes in the Roman annals. Trajan
appears throughout in the most striking attitude that majesty can
be placed in; in the exertion of power to the godlike purposes of
justice and benevolence: and what one of the ancient historians has
said of him is here clearly verified, that " he rather chose to be
loved than flattered by Jima people." To have been distinguished
by the favour and friendship of a monarch of so exalted a character
is an honour that reflects the brightest lustre upon our author; as to
have been served and celebrated by a courtier of Pliny's genius and
virtues is the noblest inonunient of glory that could have been
raised to Trajan. M.

2 Nerva, who succeeded Domitian, reigned but sixteen months and
a few days. Before his death he not only adopted Trajan, and
named him for his successor, but actually admitted him into a
share of the government; giving him the titles of Caesar,
Germanicus and Imperator. Vid. Plin. Paneg. M.

3 $16,000.

4 One of the four governments of Lower Egypt. M.

5 The extensive power of paternal authority was (as has been
observed in the notes shove) peculiar to the Romans. But after
Chrysippus was made a denizen of Rome, he was not, it would
seem, consequentially entitled to that privilege over those children
which were horn before his denization. On the other haqd, if it was
expressly granted him, his childrcn could not preeerve their right
of patronage over their own freedmen, because that right would of
course devolve to their father, by means of this acquired dominion
over them. The denization therefore of his children is as expressly
solicited as his own. But both parties hecoming quirites, the
children by this creation, and not pleading in right of their father,
would be patres fam. To prevent which the clause is added, "ita ut
sint in patris potestate:" as there is another to save to them their
rights of patronage over their freedmen, though they were reduced
in patrmam potestate. M.

6 Pliny enjoyed the office of treasurer in conjunction with
Cornutus Tertullus. it was the custom at Rome fur those who had
colleagues to administer the duties of their posts by monthly turns.
Buchner. M.

7 About $16,000; the annual income of Pliny's estate in Tuscany.
He mentions another near ‡omum in Milan, the yearly value of
which does not appear. We find him likewise meditating the
purchase of an estate, for which he was to give about $117,000 of
our money; but whether he ever completed that purchase is

unceetsin This, however, we are sure of. that his fortunes were but
moderate, considering his high station and necessary expenses: and
yet, by the advantage of a judicious economy, we hove seen him.
in the course of these letters, exercising a liberality of which after.
ages have furnished no parallel. M.

8 The senators were not allowed to go from Rome into the
provinces with. out having first obtained leave of the emperor.
Sicily, however, had the privilege to be excepted out of that law;
as Gallia Narbonensis afterwards was, by Claudius Caesar. Tacit.
Ann. XII. C. 23. M.

9 One of the seven priests who presided over the feasts appointed
in honour of Jupiter and the other gods, an office, as appears, of
high dignity, since Pliny ranks it with the augurship.

10 Bithynia, a province in Anatolia, or Asia Minor, of which Pliny
was appointcd governor by Trajan, in the siath year of his reign, A.
D. 103, not as an ordinary proconsul, but as that emperor's own
lieutenant, with powers extraordinary. (See Dio.) The following
letters were written doning his administration of that province. M.

11 A north wind in the Grecian seas, which rises yearly come time
in July, and continues to the end of August; though others extend it
to the middle of September. They blow only in the day-time.
Varenius's Gcogr. V.I. p. 513. M.

12 The inhabitants of Prusa (Brusa), a principal city of Bithynia.

13 In the sixth year of Trajan's reign, A. D. 103, and the 41st of our
author's age: he continued in this province about eighteen months.
Vid. Mass, in Vit. Phin. 129. M.

14 Among other noble works which this glorious emperor
executed, the forum or square which went by his name seems to
have been the most magnificent. It was built with the foreign
spoils he had taken in war. The covering of this edifice was all
brass, the porticoes exceedingly beautiful and magnificent, witls
pillars of more than ordinary height and dimensions. In the centre
of this forum was erected the famous pillar which has been already
described.

15 It is probable the victory here alluded to was that famous one
which Trajan gained over the Daciaiss; some account of which has
been given in the notes above. It is certain, at least, Pliny lived to
see his wish accomplished, this emperor having carried the Roman
splendour to its highest pitch, and extended the dominions of the
empire farther than any of his predecessors; as after his death it
began to decline. M.

16 The capital of Bithynia; its modern name is Izmid.

17 The town of Panticapoeum, also called Bosporus, standing on
the European side of the Cimmerian Bosporus (Straits of Kaffa), in
the modern Crimea.

18 Nicea (as appears by the 15th letter of this book), a city in
Bithynia, now called Iznik. M.

19 Sarmatia was divided into European, Asiatic, and German
Sarmatia. It is not exactly known what hounds the ancients gave to
this extensive region; however, in general, it comprehended the
northern part of Russia, and the greater part of Poland, &c. M.

20 The first invention of public couriers is ascribed to Cyrus, who,
in order to receive the earliest intelligence from the governors of
the several provances, erected post-houses throughout the kingdom
of Persia, at equal dis. lances, which supplied men and horses to
forward the public despatches. Augustus was the first who
introduced this most useful institution among the Romans, by
employing post-chaises, disposed at convenient distances, for the
purpose of political intelligence. The magistrates of every city
were obliged to furnish horses for these messengers, upon
producing a diploma, or a kind of warrant, either from the emperor
himself or from those who had that authority under him.
Sometimes, though upon very extraordinary occasions, persons
who travelled upon their private affairs, were allowed the use of
these post-chaises. It is surprising they were not sooner used fur
the purposes of commerce and private communication. Louis XI.
first established them in France, in the year 1414; hut it was not till
the 24th of Car. II, that the post-office was settled in England by
Act of Parhiament, M.

21 Particular temples, altars, and statues were allowed among the
Romans as places of privilege and sanctuary to slaves, debtors and
malefactors. This custom was introduced by Romulus, who
borrowed it probably from the Greeks; but during the free state of
Rome, few of these asylums were permitted. This custom
prevailed most under the emperors, till it grew so scandalous that
the Emperor Pius found it necessary to restrain those privileged
places by an edict. See Lipsii Excurs. ad Taeiti Ann. III, C. 36, M.

22 General under Deeebalus, king of the Dacians. M.

23 A province in Daeia, comprehending the southern parts of
Servia and part ot Bulgaria. M.

24 The second expedition of Trajan against Decebalus was
undertaken the saint year that Pliny went governor into this
province; the reason therefore why Pliny sent this Calhidromus to
the emperor seems to he that some use might possibly be made of
him in favour of that design, M.
25 Receiver of the finances. M.

26 The coast rontid the Black Sea.

27 The text calls him primipilarem, that is, one who bad been
Prirnipi1us, in officer in the army, whose post was both highly
honourable and profitable; among other parts of his office he had
the care of the eagle, or chief standard of the legion. M.

28 Slaves who were purchased by the public. M.

29 The most probable conjecture (for it is a point of a good deal of
obscurity) concerning the beneficiary seems to be that they were a
certain number of soldiers exempted from the usual duty of their
office, in order to be employed as a sort of body-guards to the
general. These were probably foot; as the equites here mentioned
were perhaps of the same nature, only that they served on
horsebsck. Equites singulares Caesaris Augusti, &c., are frequently
met with upon ancient inscriptions, and are generally supposed to
mean the bodyguards of the emperor. M.

30 A province in Asia Minor, bounded by the Black Sea on the
north, Bithynia on the west, Pontus on the east, and Phrygia on the
south.

31 The Roman policy excluded slaves from entering into military
service, and it was death if they did so. However, upon cases of
great necessity, this maxim was dispensed with; but then they were
first made free before they were received into the army, excepting
only (as Servius in his notes upon Virgil) observes after the fatal
battle of Cannae; when the public dis. tress was so great that the
Romans recruited their army with their slaves. though they had not
time to give them their freedom. One reason, perhaps, of this
policy might be that they did not think it safe to arm so
considerable a body of men, whose numbers, in the times when the
Roman luxury was at its highest, we may have some idea of by the
instance which Pun the naturalist mentions of Claudius Isodorus,
who at the time of his death was possessed of no less than 4,116
slaves, notwithstanding he had lost great numbers in the civil wars.
Pun. Hist. Nat. XXXIII. 10. M.

32 A punishment among the Romans, usually inflicted upon
slaves, by which they were to engage with wild beasts, or perform
the part of gladiators, in the public shows. M.

33 It has been generally imagined that the ancients had not the art
of raising water by engines; but this passage seems to favour the
contrary opinion. The word in the original is sipho, which
Hesychius explains (as one of the commentators observes)
"instrumentuns ad jaculandas aquas adversas incendia;" an
instrument to throw up water against fires." But there is a passage
in Seneca which seems to put this matter beyond conjecture,
though none of the critics upon this place have taken notice of it:
"Solemiss," says he, "duabus manibus inter se junctis aguam
concipere, et com pressa utrinque palma in modum ciphonis
exprimere" (Q. N. 1. II. 16) where we plainly see the use of this
sipho was to throw UP water, and consequently the Romans were
acquainted with that art. The account which Pliny gives of his
fountains at Tuscum is likewise another evident proof. M.

34 This was an anniversary custom observed throughout the
empire on the 30th of December. M.

35 About $132,000.

36 About $80,000.

37 About $400,000. To those who are not acquainted with the
immense riches of the ancients, it may seem incredible that a city,
and not the capital one either, uf a conquered province should
expend so large a sum of money upon only the shell (as it appears
to be) of a theatre: but Asia was esteemed the most considerable
vart of the world for wealth; its fer. tility and exportations (aa
Tully observes) exceeding that of all other countries. M.

38 The word carte, in the original, comprehends snore than what
we
call the pat in our theatres, as at means the whole space lit which
the spectators sat. These theatres being open at the top, the
galleries here mentioned were for the convenience of retiring in
bad
weather. M.

39 A place in which the athletic exercises were performed, and
where
the philosophers also used to read their lectures. M.

40 The Roman foot consisted of 11.7 Inches of our standard, M.
41 A colony in the district of Cataonia, in Cappadocia.

42 The honorary senators, that is, such who were not received into
the council of the city by election, but by the appointment of the
emperor, paid a certain sum of money upon their admission into
the senate. M.

43 "Graeculi. Even under the empire, with its relaxed morality and
luxurious tone, the Romans continued to apply this contemptuous
designation to people to whom they owed what taste for art and
culture they possessed." Church and Brodribb.

44 A Roman cubit is equal to a foot 5.406 inches of our measure.
Arbuthanot's Tab. M.

45 About $480.

46 About $120.

47 A diploma is properly a grant of certain privileges either to
particular places or persons. It signifies also grants of other kinds;
and it sometimes means post-warrants, as, perhaps, it does in this
place. M.

38 A city in Bithynia. M.

39 Cybele, Rhea, or Ops, as she is otherwise called; from whom,
according to the pagan creed, the rest of the gods are supposed to
have descended. M.

40 Whatever was legally consecrated was ever afterwards
unapplicable to profane uses. M.

41That is, a city not admitted to enjoy the laws and privileges of
Rome. M.

42 The reason why they did not choose to borrow of the public at
the same rate of interest which they paid to private persons was (as
one of the Commentators observes) because in the former instance
they were obliged to give security, whereas in the latter they could
raise money upon their personal credit. M.

43 These, in the original institution as settled by Augustus, were
only commanders of his body-guards; hut in the later times of the
Roman empire they were next in authority under the emperor, to
whom they seem to have acted as a sort of prime ministers. M.

44 The provinces were divided into, a kind of circuits called
conventus, whither the proconsuls used to go in order to
administer justice. The judges here mentioned must not be
understood to mean the same sort of judicial officers as with us:
they rather answered to our juries. M.

45 By the imperial constitutions the philosophers were exempted
from all public functions. Catariscus. M.

46 About $24,000.

47 Geographers are not agreed where to place this city; Cellarius
conjectures it may possibly be the same with Prusa ad Olyinpum,
Prusa at the foot of Mount Olympus in Mysia.

48 Domitian.

49 That is, whether they should be considered in a state of freedom
or slavery. M.

50 Parents throughout the entire ancient world had the right to
expose their children and leave them to their fate. Hence would
sometimes arise the question whether such a child, if found and
brought up by another, was entitled to his freedom, whether also
the person thus adopting him must grant him his freedom without
repayment for the cost of maintenance." Church and Brodribb.

51 "This decision of Trajan, the effect of which would be that
persons would be slow to adopt an abandoned child which, when
brought up, its unnatural parents could claim back without any
compensation for its ourture, seems harsh, and we find that it was
disregarded by the later emperors in their legal decisions on the
subject." Church and Brodribb.

52 And consequently by the Roman laws unapplicable to any other
purpose. M.

53 The Roman provinces in the times of the emperors were of two
sorts: those which were distinguished by the name of the
provinciae Caesaris and the provinciae senatus. The provinciae
Carsaris, or imperial provinces, were such as the emperor, for
reasons of policy, reserved to his own immediate administration,
or of those whom he thought proper to appoint: the provinciae
senatus, or proconsular provinces, were such as he left to the
government of proconsuls or praetors, chosen in the ordinary
method of election. (Vid. Suet, in Aug. V. 47.) Of the former kind
was Bithynis, at the time when our author presided there. (Vid.
Masson. Vit. Plin. p. 133.) M.

54 A province in Asia, bordering upon the Black Sea, and by some
ancient geographers considered as one province with Bithynia. M.

55 About $2,000. M.

56 Cities of Pontus near the Euxine or Black Sea. M.

57 Gordium, the old capital of Phrygia. It afterwards1 in the reign
of the Emperor Augustus, received the name of Juliopohs. (See
Smith's Classical Diet.)

58 Pompey the Great having subdued Mithridates, and by that
means enlarged the Roman empire, passed several laws relating to
the newly conquered provinces, and, among others, that which is
here mentioned. M.

59 The right of electing Senators did not originally belong to the
censors, who were only, as Cicero somewhere calls them,
guardians of the discipline and manners of the city; but in process
of time they engrossed the whole privilege of conferring that
honour. M.

60 This, probably, was some act whereby the city was to ratify and
confirm the proceedings of Dion under the commission assigned to
him.

61 It was a notion which generally prevailed with the ancients, in
the Jewish as well as heathen world, that there was a pollution in
the contact of dead bodies, and this they extended to the very
house in which the corpse lay, and even to the uncovered vessels
that stood in the same room. (Vid. Pot. Antiq. V. II. 181.) From
some such opinion as this it is probable that the circumstance ,here
mentioned, of placing Trajan's statue where these bodies were
deposited, was esteemed as a mark of disrespect to his person.

62 A thriving Greek colony in the territory of Sinopis, on the
Euxine.

63 A colony of Athenians in the province of Pontus. Their town,
Amisus, on the coast, was one of the residences of Mithridates.

64 Casaubon, in his observations upon Theophrastus (as cited by
one of the commentators) informs us that there were at Athens and
other cities of Greece Certain fraternities which paid into a
common chest a monthly contribution towards the support of such
of their members who had fallen into misfortunes; upon condition
that, if ever they arrived to more prosperous circumstances, they
should repay into the general fund the money so advanced. M.

65 By the law for encouragement of matrimony (some account of
which has already been given in the notes above), as a penalty
upon those who lived bachelors, they were declared incapable of
inheriting any legacy by will; so likewise, if being married, they
had no children, they could not claim the full advantage of
benefactions of that kind.

66 This letter is esteemed as almost the only genuine monument of
ecclesiastical antiquity relating to the times immediately
succeeding the Apostles, it being written at most not above forty
years after the death of St. Paul. It was preserved by the Christians
themselves as a clear and unsuspicious evidence of the purity of
their doctrines, and is frequently appealed to by the early writers of
the Church against the calumnies of their adversaries. M.

67 It was one of the privileges of a Roman citizen, secured by the
Sempro. riian law, that he could not be capitally convicted but by
the suffrage of the people; which seems to have been still so far in
force as to make it necesaary to send the persons here mentioned
to Rome. M.

68 These women, it is supposed, exercised the same office as
Phoebe mentioned by St. Paul, whom he styles deaconess of the
church of Cenchrea. Their business was to tend the poor and sick,
and other charitable offices; as also to assist at the ceremony of
female baptism, for the more decent performance of that rite: as
Vossius observes upon this passage. M.

69 If we impartially examine this prosecution of the Christians, we
shall find it to have been grounded on the ancient constitution of
the state, and not to have proceeded from a cruel or arbitrary
temper in Trajan. The Roman legislature appears to have been
early jealous of any innovation in point of public worship; and we
find the magistrates, during the old republic frequently interposing
in cases of that nature. Valerius Maximus has collected some
instances to that purpose (L. I. C. 3), and Livy mentions it as an
established principle of the earlier ages of the commonwealth, to
guard against the introduction of foreign ceremonies of religion. It
was an old and fixed maxim likewise of the Roman government
not to suffer any unlicensed assemblies of the people. From hence
it seenis evident that the Christians had rendered themselves
obnoxious not so much to Trajan as to the ancient and settled laws
of the state, by introducing a foreign worship, and assembling
themselves without authority. M.

70 On the coast of Paphlagonia.

71 By the Papian law, which passed in the consulship of M. Papius
Mutilus and Q. Poppeas Secundus, u. c. 761, if a freedman died
worth a hundred thousand sesterces (or about $4,000 of our
money), leaving only one child, his patron (that is, the master from
whom he received his liberty) was entitled to half his estate; if he
left two children, to one-third; but if more than two, then the
patron was absolutely excluded. This was afterwards altered by
Justinian, Inst. 1. III. tit. 8. M.

72 About $7,000.

73 About $175

74 About $350.

75 The denariusi=7 cents. The sum total, then, distributed among
one thousand persons at the rate of, say, two denarn a piece would
amount to about $350.

76 These games are called Iselastic from the Greek word invehor,
because the victors, drawn by white horses, and wearing crowns on
their heads, were conducted with great pomp into their respective
cities, which they entered through a breach in the walls made for
that purpose; intimating, as Plutarch observes, that a City which
produced such able and victorious citizens, had little occasion for
the defence of walls (Catanaeus). They received also annually a
certain honourable stipend from the public. M.





End of Etext Letters of Pliny the Younger