Letter 19
I leap for joy whenever I receive letters from
you. For they fill me with hope; they are now not mere assurances
concerning you, but guarantees. And I beg and pray you to proceed
in this course; for what better request could I make of a friend than one
which is to be made for his own sake? If possible, withdraw yourself
from all the business of which you speak; and if you cannot do this, tear
yourself away. We have dissipated enough of our time already - let
us in old age begin to pack up our baggage. Surely there is nothing
in this that men can begrudge us. We have spent our lives on the high seas;
let us die in harbour. Not that I would advise you to try to win
fame by your retirement; one's retirement should neither be paraded nor
concealed. Not concealed, I say, for I shall not go so far in urging
you as to expect you to condemn all men as mad and then seek out for yourself
a hiding-place and oblivion;
rather make this your business, that your
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retirement be not conspicuous, though it should be obvious. In
the second place, while those whose choice is unhampered from the start
will deliberate on that other question, whether they wish to pass their
lives in obscurity, in your case there is not a free choice. Your
ability and energy have thrust you into the work of the world; so have
the charm of your writings and the friendships you have made with famous
and notable men. Renown has already taken you by storm. You
may sink yourself into the depths of obscurity and utterly hide yourself;
yet your earlier acts will reveal you. You cannot keep lurking in
the dark; much of the old gleam will follow you wherever you fly.
Peace you can claim for yourself without being disliked by anyone, without
any sense of loss, and without any pangs of spirit. For what will
you leave behind you that you can imagine yourself reluctant to leave?
Your clients? But none of these men courts you for yourself; they
merely court something from you. People used to hunt friends, but
now they hunt pelf; if a lonely old man changes his will, the morning-caller
transfers himself to another door. Great things cannot be bought
for small sums; so reckon up whether it is preferable to leave your own
true self, or merely some of your belongings. Would that you had
had the privilege of growing old amid the limited circumstances of your
origin, and that fortune had not raised you to such heights! You
were removed far from the sight of wholesome living by your swift rise
to prosperity, by your province, by your position as procurator, and
by all that such things promise; you will next acquire more important duties
and after them still more. And what will be the result? Why
wait until there is nothing left for
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EPISTLE XIX,
you to crave? That time will never come. We hold that there
is a succession of causes, from which fate is woven; similarly, you may
be sure, there is a succession in our desires; for one begins where its
predecessor ends. You have been thrust into an existence which will never
of itself put an end to your wretchedness and your slavery. Withdraw
your chafed neck from the yoke; it is better that it should be cut off
once for all, than galled for ever. If you retreat to privacy, everything
will be on a smaller scale, but you will be satisfied abundantly; in your
present condition, however, there is no satisfaction in the plenty which
is heaped upon you on all sides. Would you rather be poor and sated,
or rich and hungry? Prosperity is not only greedy, but it also lies
exposed to the greed of others. And as long as nothing satisfies
you, you yourself cannot satisfy others.
"But," you say, "how can I take my leave?"
Any way you please. Reflect how many hazards you have ventured for
the sake of money, and how much toil you have undertaken for a title!
You must dare something to gain leisure, also, - or else grow old amid
the worries of procuratorships abroad and subsequently of civil duties
at home, living in turmoil and in ever fresh floods of responsibilities,
which no man has ever succeeded in avoiding by unobtrusiveness or by seclusion
of life. For what bearing on the case has your personal desire for a secluded
life? Your position in the world desires the opposite! What if, even
now, you allow that position to grow greater? But all that is added
to your successes will be added to your fears. At this point I should
like to quote a saying of Maecenas, who spoke the truth when be stood on
the very
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summit: "There's thunder even on the loftiest peaks." If you ask me
in what book these words are found, they occur in the volume entitled Prometheus.
He simply meant to say that these lofty peaks have their tops surrounded
with thunder-storms. But is any power worth so high a price that
a man like you would ever, in order to obtain it, adopt a style so debauched
as that? Maecenas was indeed a man of parts, who would have left a great
pattern for Roman oratory to follow, had his good fortune not made him effeminate ,
- nay, had it not emasculated him! An end like his awaits you also,
unless you forthwith shorten sail and, - as Maecenas was not willing to
do until it was too late, - hug the shore!
This saying of Maecenas's might have squared
my account with you; but I feel sure, knowing you, that you will get out
an injunction against me, and that you will be unwilling to accept payment
of my debt in such crude and debased currency. However that may be,
I shall draw on the account of Epicurus. He says: "You must reflect carefully
beforehand with whom you are to cat end drink, rather than what you are
to eat and drink. For a dinner of meats without the company of a
friend is like the life of a lion or a wolf." This privilege will
not be yours unless you withdraw from the world; otherwise, you will have
as guests only those whom your slave-secretary sorts out from the throng
of callers. It is, however, a mistake to select your friend in the reception-hall
or to test him at the dinner-table. The most serious misfortune for
a busy man who is overwhelmed by his possessions is, that he believes men
to be his friends when he himself is not a friend to them, and that he
deems his favours to be effective in winning friends, although, in the
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Latin / Greek Original
[1] Exulto quotiens epistulas tuas accipio; implent enim me bona spe, et iam non promittunt de te sed spondent. Ita fac, oro atque obsecro - quid enim habeo melius quod amicum rogem quam quod pro ipso rogaturus sum? si potes, subducte istis occupationibus; si minus, eripe. Satis multum temporis sparsimus: incipiamus vasa in senectute colligere. [2] Numquid invidiosum est? in freto viximus, moriamur in portu. Neque ego suaserim tibi nomen ex otio petere, quod nec iactare debes nec abscondere; numquam enim usque eo te abigam generis humani furore damnato ut latebram tibi aliquam parari et oblivionem velim: id age ut otium tuum non emineat sed appareat. [3] Deinde videbunt de isto quibus integra sunt et prima consilia an velint vitam per obscurum transmittere: tibi liberum non est. In medium te protulit ingenii vigor, scriptorum elegantia, clarae et nobiles amicitiae; iam notitia te invasit; ut in extrema mergaris ac penitus recondaris, tamen priora monstrabunt. [4] Tenebras habere non potes; sequetur quocumque fugeris multum pristinae lucis: quietem potes vindicare sine ullius odio, sine desiderio aut morsu animi tui. Quid enim relinques quod invitus relictum a te possis cogitare? Clientes? quorum nemo te ipsum sequitur, sed aliquid ex te; amicitia olim petebatur, nunc praeda; mutabunt testamenta destituti senes, migrabit ad aliud limen salutator. Non potest parvo res magna constare: aestima utrum te relinquere an aliquid ex tuis malis. [5] Utinam quidem tibi senescere contigisset intra natalium tuorum modum, nec te in altum fortuna misisset! Tulit te longe a conspectu vitae salubris rapida felicitas, provincia et procuratio et quidquid ab istis promittitur; maiora deinde officia te excipient et ex aliis alia: quis exitus erit? [6] quid exspectas donec desinas habere quod cupias? numquam erit tempus. Qualem dicimus seriem esse causarum ex quibus nectitur fatum, talem esse *** cupiditatum: altera ex fine alterius nascitur. In eam demissus es vitam quae numquam tibi terminum miseriarum ac servitutis ipsa factura sit: subduc cervicem iugo tritam; semel illam incidi quam semper premi satius est. [7] Si te ad privata rettuleris, minora erunt omnia, sed affatim implebunt: at nunc plurima et undique ingesta non satiant. Utrum autem mavis ex inopia saturitatem an in copia famem? Et avida felicitas est et alienae aviditati exposita; quamdiu tibi satis nihil fuerit, ipse aliis non eris. [8] 'Quomodo' inquis 'exibo?' Utcumque. Cogita quam multa temere pro pecunia, quam multa laboriose pro honore temptaveris: aliquid et pro otio audendum est, aut in ista sollicitudine procurationum et deinde urbanorum officiorum senescendum, in tumultu ac semper novis fluctibus quos effugere nulla modestia, nulla vitae quiete contingit. Quid enim ad rem pertinet an tu quiescere velis? fortuna tua non vult. Quid si illi etiam nunc permiseris crescere? quantum ad successus accesserit accedet ad metus. [9] Volo tibi hoc loco referre dictum Maecenatis vera in ipso eculeo elocuti: 'ipsa enim altitudo attonat summa'. Si quaeris in quo libro dixerit, in eo qui Prometheus inscribitur. Hoc voluit dicere, attonita habet summa. Est ergo tanti ulla potentia ut sit tibi tam ebrius sermo? Ingeniosus ille vir fuit, magnum exemplum Romanae eloquentiae daturus nisi illum enervasset felicitas, immo castrasset. Hic te exitus manet nisi iam contrahes vela, nisi, quod ille sero voluit, terram leges.
[10] Poteram tecum hac Maecenatis sententia parem facere rationem, sed movebis mihi controversiam, si novi te, nec voles quod debeo <nisi> in aspero et probo accipere. Ut se res habet, ab Epicuro versura facienda est. 'Ante' inquit 'circumspiciendum est cum quibus edas et bibas quam quid edas et bibas; nam sine amico visceratio leonis ac lupi vita est.' [11] Hoc non continget tibi nisi secesseris: alioquin habebis convivas quos ex turba salutantium nomenclator digesserit; errat autem qui amicum in atrio quaerit, in convivio probat. Nullum habet maius malum occupatus homo et bonis suis obsessus quam quod amicos sibi putat quibus ipse non est, quod beneficia sua efficacia iudicat ad conciliandos animos, cum quidam quo plus debent magis oderint: leve aes alienum debitorem facit, grave inimicum. [12] 'Quid ergo? beneficia non parant amicitias?' Parant, si accepturos licuit eligere, si collocata, non sparsa sunt. Itaque dum incipis esse mentis tuae, interim hoc consilio sapientium utere, ut magis ad rem existimes pertinere quis quam quid acceperit. Vale.