Lucius Annaeus Seneca→Lucilius Junior|c. 64 AD|Seneca the Younger|From Southern Italy (regional)|To Sicily (regional)|AI-assisted
I received your letter many months after you sent it, and so I thought it pointless to ask the man who delivered it how you were getting on. He would need an extraordinarily good memory to recall that. All the same, I hope that by now you live in such a way that, wherever you are, I know what you are doing. For what else are you doing but making yourself a better man each day, shedding some error, coming to understand that the faults you suppose belong to circumstances are in fact your own? Some faults we charge to particular places and times; but those will follow us wherever we go.
You know Harpaste, my wife's fool, who has stayed on in my house as a burden inherited by legacy. I myself am thoroughly averse to such freaks; whenever I want to be amused by a fool, I do not have to look far: I laugh at myself. This fool has suddenly gone blind. I tell you something incredible, but true: she does not know that she is blind. Again and again she asks her attendant to move her elsewhere, saying that the house is too dark.
Let it be plain to you that what we laugh at in her happens to all of us: no one understands that he is greedy, no one that he is covetous. Yet the blind at least ask for a guide, while we go astray without one and say, 'I am not ambitious, but no one can live any other way at Rome; I am not extravagant, but the city itself demands great expenditure; it is no fault of mine that I am quick-tempered, that I have not yet settled on a fixed manner of life: this is what youth does.'
Why do we deceive ourselves? Our evil is not on the outside: it is within us, it sits in our very vitals, and for that reason we reach health with difficulty, because we do not know that we are sick. Even if we begin the cure, when shall we shake off the great strength of so many diseases? As it is, we do not even seek out a physician, who would have less to do if he were called in for a recent disorder; minds still tender and untrained would follow him as he pointed out the right path. No one is brought back to nature with difficulty except the man who has deserted her: we blush to learn sound sense. But, by Hercules, if it is shameful to seek a teacher of this thing, then this much must be despaired of -- that so great a good could flow into us by mere chance. We must labor, and, to tell the truth, the labor is not even great, provided, as I said, we begin to shape and correct our mind before its crookedness hardens.
But I do not despair even of what has hardened: there is nothing that persistent effort and intent, diligent care will not overcome. You can call the oaks back to straightness, however bent they are; warmth straightens out curved beams, and timber that grew one way is fashioned into the shape our use demands. How much more readily does the mind take on a form, pliant as it is and more yielding than any moisture! For what else is the mind but breath disposed in a certain way? And you see that breath is more easily worked than any other material, the more rarefied it is. There is no reason, my dear Lucilius, why this should keep you from having good hopes of us -- the fact that wickedness already holds us, that it has long been in possession of us. To no one does a good mind come before a bad one; we are all forestalled. To learn the virtues is to unlearn the vices.
But we ought to approach our own reform with all the greater spirit because, once the good has been handed over to us, the possession of it is permanent: virtue is not unlearned. For contraries cling badly in a place not their own, and so can be driven out and forced away; but things that come into their own place sit firmly. Virtue is in accordance with nature; the vices are her enemies and at war with her. Yet just as the virtues, once received, cannot leave, and their keeping is easy, so the beginning of the journey toward them is steep, because it is the peculiar mark of a weak and sickly mind to dread the untried; and so it must be compelled to make a start. After that the medicine is not harsh, for it gives pleasure at once, while it heals. With other remedies the pleasure comes after health is restored; philosophy is at once both wholesome and sweet. Farewell.
I received your letter many months after you had posted it; accordingly, I thought it useless to ask the carrier what you were busied with. He must have a particularly good memory if he can remember that! But I hope by this time you are living in such a way that I can be sure what it is you are busied with, no matter where you may be. For what else are you busied with except improving yourself every day, laying aside some error, and coming to understand that the faults which you attribute to circumstances are in yourself? We are indeed apt to ascribe certain faults to the place or to the time; but those faults will follow us, no matter how we change our place.
You know Harpasté, my wife’s female clown; she has remained in my house, a burden incurred from a legacy. I particularly disapprove of these freaks; whenever I wish to enjoy the quips of a clown, I am not compelled to hunt far; I can laugh at myself. Now this clown suddenly became blind. The story sounds incredible, but I assure you that it is true: she does not know that she is blind. She keeps asking her attendant to change her quarters; she says that her apartments are too dark.
You can see clearly that that which makes us smile in the case of Harpasté happens to all the rest of us; nobody understands that he is himself greedy, or that he is covetous. Yet the blind ask for a guide, while we wander without one, saying: “I am not self-seeking; but one cannot live at Rome in any other way. I am not extravagant, but mere living in the city demands a great outlay. It is not my fault that I have a choleric disposition, or that I have not settled down to any definite scheme of life; it is due to my youth.” Why do we deceive ourselves? The evil that afflicts us is not external, it is within us, situated in our very vitals; for that reason we attain soundness with all the more difficulty, because we do not know that we are diseased.
Suppose that we have begun the cure; when shall we throw off all these diseases, with all their virulence? At present, we do not even consult the physician, whose work would be easier if he were called in when the complaint was in its early stages. The tender and the inexperienced minds would follow his advice if he pointed out the right way. No man finds it difficult to return to nature, except the man who has deserted nature. We blush to receive instruction in sound sense; but, by Heaven, if we think it base to seek a teacher of this art, we should also abandon any hope that so great a good could be instilled into us by mere chance.
No, we must work. To tell the truth, even the work is not great, if only, as I said, we begin to mould and reconstruct our souls before they are hardened by sin. But I do not despair even of a hardened sinner. There is nothing that will not surrender to persistent treatment, to concentrated and careful attention; however much the timber may be bent, you can make it straight again. Heat unbends curved beams, and wood that grew naturally in another shape is fashioned artificially according to our needs. How much more easily does the soul permit itself to be shaped, pliable as it is and more yielding than any liquid! For what else is the soul than air in a certain state? And you see that air is more adaptable than any other matter, in proportion as it is rarer than any other.
There is nothing, Lucilius, to hinder you from entertaining good hopes about us, just because we are even now in the grip of evil, or because we have long been possessed thereby. There is no man to whom a good mind comes before an evil one. It is the evil mind that gets first hold on all of us. Learning virtue means unlearning vice. We should therefore proceed to the task of freeing ourselves from faults with all the more courage because, when once committed to us, the good is an everlasting possession; virtue is not unlearned. For opposites find difficulty in clinging where they do not belong, therefore they can be driven out and hustled away; but qualities that come to a place which is rightfully theirs abide faithfully. Virtue is according to nature; vice is opposed to it and hostile. But although virtues, when admitted, cannot depart and are easy to guard, yet the first steps in the approach to them are toilsome, because it is characteristic of a weak and diseased mind to fear that which is unfamiliar. The mind must, therefore, be forced to make a beginning; from then on, the medicine is not bitter; for just as soon as it is curing us it begins to give pleasure. One enjoys other cures only after health is restored, but a draught of philosophy is at the same moment wholesome and pleasant. Farewell.
[1] Epistulam tuam accepi post multos menses quam miseras; supervacuum itaque putavi ab eo qui afferebat quid ageres quaerere. Valde enim bonae memoriae est, si meminit; et tamen spero te sic iam vivere ut, ubicumque eris, sciam quid agas. Quid enim aliud agis quam ut meliorem te ipse cotidie facias, ut aliquid ex erroribus ponas, ut intellegas tua vitia esse quae putas rerum? Quaedam enim locis et temporibus adscribimus; at illa, quocumque transierimus, secutura sunt. [2] Harpasten, uxoris meae fatuam, scis hereditarium onus in domo mea remansisse. Ipse enim aversissimus ab istis prodigiis sum; si quando fatuo delectari volo, non est mihi longe quaerendus: me rideo. Haec fatua subito desiit videre. Incredibilem rem tibi narro, sed veram: nescit esse se caecam; subinde paedagogum suum rogat ut migret, ait domum tenebricosam esse. [3] Hoc quod in illa ridemus omnibus nobis accidere liqueat tibi: nemo se avarum esse intellegit, nemo cupidum. Caeci tamen ducem quaerunt, nos sine duce erramus et dicimus, 'non ego ambitiosus sum, sed nemo aliter Romae potest vivere; non ego sumptuosus sum, sed urbs ipsa magnas impensas exigit; non est meum vitium quod iracundus sum, quod nondum constitui certum genus vitae: adulescentia haec facit'.
[4] Quid nos decipimus? non est extrinsecus malum nostrum: intra nos est, in visceribus ipsis sedet, et ideo difficulter ad sanitatem pervenimus quia nos aegrotare nescimus. Si curari coeperimus, quando tot morborum tantas vires discutiemus? Nunc vero ne quaerimus quidem medicum, qui minus negotii haberet si adhiberetur ad recens vitium; sequerentur teneri et rudes animi recta monstrantem. [5] Nemo difficulter ad naturam reducitur nisi qui ab illa defecit: erubescimus discere bonam mentem. At mehercules, <si> turpe est magistrum huius rei quaerere, illud desperandum est, posse nobis casu tantum bonum influere: laborandum est et, ut verum dicam, ne labor quidem magnus est, s modo, ut dixi, ante animum nostrum formare incipimus et recorrigere quam indurescat pravitas eius. [6] Sed nec indurata despero: nihil est quod non expugnet pertinax opera et intenta ac diligens cura. Robora m rectum quamvis flexa revocabis; curvatas trabes calor explicat et aliter natae in id finguntur quod usus noster exigit: quanto facilius animus accipit formam, flexibilis et omni umore obsequentior! Quid enim est aliud animus quam quodam modo se habens spiritus? vides autem tanto spiritum esse faciliorem omni alia materia quanto tenuior est. [7] Illud, mi Lucili, non est quod te impediat quominus de nobis bene speres, quod malitia nos iam tenet, quod diu in possessione nostri est: ad neminem ante bona mens venit quam mala; omnes praeoccupati sumus; virtutes discere vitia dediscere <est>. [8] Sed eo maiore animo ad emendationem nostri debemus accedere quod semel traditi nobis boni perpetua possessio est; non dediscitur virtus. Contraria enim male in alieno haerent, ideo depelli et exturbari possunt; fideliter sedent quae in locum suum veniunt. Virtus secundum naturam est, vitia inimica et infesta sunt. [9] Sed quemadmodum virtutes receptae exire non possunt facilisque earum tutela est, ita initium ad illas eundi arduum, quia hoc proprium imbecillae mentis atque aegrae est, formidare inexperta; itaque cogenda est ut incipiat. Deinde non est acerba medicina; protinus enim delectat, dum sanat. Aliorum remediorum post sanitatem voluptas est, philosophia pariter et salutaris et dulcis est. Vale.
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I received your letter many months after you sent it, and so I thought it pointless to ask the man who delivered it how you were getting on. He would need an extraordinarily good memory to recall that. All the same, I hope that by now you live in such a way that, wherever you are, I know what you are doing. For what else are you doing but making yourself a better man each day, shedding some error, coming to understand that the faults you suppose belong to circumstances are in fact your own? Some faults we charge to particular places and times; but those will follow us wherever we go.
You know Harpaste, my wife's fool, who has stayed on in my house as a burden inherited by legacy. I myself am thoroughly averse to such freaks; whenever I want to be amused by a fool, I do not have to look far: I laugh at myself. This fool has suddenly gone blind. I tell you something incredible, but true: she does not know that she is blind. Again and again she asks her attendant to move her elsewhere, saying that the house is too dark.
Let it be plain to you that what we laugh at in her happens to all of us: no one understands that he is greedy, no one that he is covetous. Yet the blind at least ask for a guide, while we go astray without one and say, 'I am not ambitious, but no one can live any other way at Rome; I am not extravagant, but the city itself demands great expenditure; it is no fault of mine that I am quick-tempered, that I have not yet settled on a fixed manner of life: this is what youth does.'
Why do we deceive ourselves? Our evil is not on the outside: it is within us, it sits in our very vitals, and for that reason we reach health with difficulty, because we do not know that we are sick. Even if we begin the cure, when shall we shake off the great strength of so many diseases? As it is, we do not even seek out a physician, who would have less to do if he were called in for a recent disorder; minds still tender and untrained would follow him as he pointed out the right path. No one is brought back to nature with difficulty except the man who has deserted her: we blush to learn sound sense. But, by Hercules, if it is shameful to seek a teacher of this thing, then this much must be despaired of -- that so great a good could flow into us by mere chance. We must labor, and, to tell the truth, the labor is not even great, provided, as I said, we begin to shape and correct our mind before its crookedness hardens.
But I do not despair even of what has hardened: there is nothing that persistent effort and intent, diligent care will not overcome. You can call the oaks back to straightness, however bent they are; warmth straightens out curved beams, and timber that grew one way is fashioned into the shape our use demands. How much more readily does the mind take on a form, pliant as it is and more yielding than any moisture! For what else is the mind but breath disposed in a certain way? And you see that breath is more easily worked than any other material, the more rarefied it is. There is no reason, my dear Lucilius, why this should keep you from having good hopes of us -- the fact that wickedness already holds us, that it has long been in possession of us. To no one does a good mind come before a bad one; we are all forestalled. To learn the virtues is to unlearn the vices.
But we ought to approach our own reform with all the greater spirit because, once the good has been handed over to us, the possession of it is permanent: virtue is not unlearned. For contraries cling badly in a place not their own, and so can be driven out and forced away; but things that come into their own place sit firmly. Virtue is in accordance with nature; the vices are her enemies and at war with her. Yet just as the virtues, once received, cannot leave, and their keeping is easy, so the beginning of the journey toward them is steep, because it is the peculiar mark of a weak and sickly mind to dread the untried; and so it must be compelled to make a start. After that the medicine is not harsh, for it gives pleasure at once, while it heals. With other remedies the pleasure comes after health is restored; philosophy is at once both wholesome and sweet. Farewell.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
[1] Epistulam tuam accepi post multos menses quam miseras; supervacuum itaque putavi ab eo qui afferebat quid ageres quaerere. Valde enim bonae memoriae est, si meminit; et tamen spero te sic iam vivere ut, ubicumque eris, sciam quid agas. Quid enim aliud agis quam ut meliorem te ipse cotidie facias, ut aliquid ex erroribus ponas, ut intellegas tua vitia esse quae putas rerum? Quaedam enim locis et temporibus adscribimus; at illa, quocumque transierimus, secutura sunt. [2] Harpasten, uxoris meae fatuam, scis hereditarium onus in domo mea remansisse. Ipse enim aversissimus ab istis prodigiis sum; si quando fatuo delectari volo, non est mihi longe quaerendus: me rideo. Haec fatua subito desiit videre. Incredibilem rem tibi narro, sed veram: nescit esse se caecam; subinde paedagogum suum rogat ut migret, ait domum tenebricosam esse. [3] Hoc quod in illa ridemus omnibus nobis accidere liqueat tibi: nemo se avarum esse intellegit, nemo cupidum. Caeci tamen ducem quaerunt, nos sine duce erramus et dicimus, 'non ego ambitiosus sum, sed nemo aliter Romae potest vivere; non ego sumptuosus sum, sed urbs ipsa magnas impensas exigit; non est meum vitium quod iracundus sum, quod nondum constitui certum genus vitae: adulescentia haec facit'.
[4] Quid nos decipimus? non est extrinsecus malum nostrum: intra nos est, in visceribus ipsis sedet, et ideo difficulter ad sanitatem pervenimus quia nos aegrotare nescimus. Si curari coeperimus, quando tot morborum tantas vires discutiemus? Nunc vero ne quaerimus quidem medicum, qui minus negotii haberet si adhiberetur ad recens vitium; sequerentur teneri et rudes animi recta monstrantem. [5] Nemo difficulter ad naturam reducitur nisi qui ab illa defecit: erubescimus discere bonam mentem. At mehercules, <si> turpe est magistrum huius rei quaerere, illud desperandum est, posse nobis casu tantum bonum influere: laborandum est et, ut verum dicam, ne labor quidem magnus est, s modo, ut dixi, ante animum nostrum formare incipimus et recorrigere quam indurescat pravitas eius. [6] Sed nec indurata despero: nihil est quod non expugnet pertinax opera et intenta ac diligens cura. Robora m rectum quamvis flexa revocabis; curvatas trabes calor explicat et aliter natae in id finguntur quod usus noster exigit: quanto facilius animus accipit formam, flexibilis et omni umore obsequentior! Quid enim est aliud animus quam quodam modo se habens spiritus? vides autem tanto spiritum esse faciliorem omni alia materia quanto tenuior est. [7] Illud, mi Lucili, non est quod te impediat quominus de nobis bene speres, quod malitia nos iam tenet, quod diu in possessione nostri est: ad neminem ante bona mens venit quam mala; omnes praeoccupati sumus; virtutes discere vitia dediscere <est>. [8] Sed eo maiore animo ad emendationem nostri debemus accedere quod semel traditi nobis boni perpetua possessio est; non dediscitur virtus. Contraria enim male in alieno haerent, ideo depelli et exturbari possunt; fideliter sedent quae in locum suum veniunt. Virtus secundum naturam est, vitia inimica et infesta sunt. [9] Sed quemadmodum virtutes receptae exire non possunt facilisque earum tutela est, ita initium ad illas eundi arduum, quia hoc proprium imbecillae mentis atque aegrae est, formidare inexperta; itaque cogenda est ut incipiat. Deinde non est acerba medicina; protinus enim delectat, dum sanat. Aliorum remediorum post sanitatem voluptas est, philosophia pariter et salutaris et dulcis est. Vale.