The workes of Lucius Annæus Seneca, both morrall and naturall Containing, 1. His bookes of benefites. 2. His epistles. 3. His booke of prouidence. 4. Three bookes of anger. 5. Two bookes of clemencie. 6. His booke of a blessed life. 7. His booke of the tranquilitie of the minde. 8. His booke of the constancie of a wiseman. 9. His booke of the shortnesse of life. 10. Two bookes of consolation to Martia. 11. Three bookes of consolation to Heluia. 12. His booke of consolation to Polibius. 13. His seuen bookes of naturall questions. Translated by Tho. Lodge, D. in Physicke.

EPIST. CXIIII.

He teacheth that eloquence is otherwise different, and pleasing, euen as publike manners are seuere, dissolute and broken. He proueth that they take that colour from the mind, and that by MAECENAS example, and therefore that that is to be cured and for∣med, from whence proceedeth sence, and consequently direct words. By the way he argueth against dissolutenesse••.

THou askest mee why and whence it commeth to passe, that the speech is corrupted in some times, and why mens minds are incli∣ned to certaine vices, so as sometimes a swelling discourse was ap∣plauded, some other times sounding & deliuered after the maner of a song. Why other whiles men tooke pleasure in long & conti∣nued periods, other whiles in abrupt sentences & suspitious, in which more is to be vnderstood then heard. Why then was some age that immodestly vsed a figu∣ratiue discourse. The reason is this which thou hast commonly heard, and the Greekes haue made their prouerb, of such is mens speech as is their life. But as euery mans actiō is answerable to his speech, so somtimes the kind of discourse

imitateth publike manners. If the discipline of the Common-wealth hath been depraued, the effeminate manner of language is an argument of the disso∣lution of all estates: I speake of that language which is vsuall amongst all men, and not of that, which some one or two vse. The soule and vnderstanding can∣not be of two colours. If the soule be whole, composed, graue, and well tempe∣red, the vnderstanding also is sober and moderate. If the one be corrupted, the other is affected. Seest thou not, that if the mind languish, the members are wea∣kened, and the feet hardly moued? And if it be effeminate, how the infirmitie thereof appeareth euen in the walking? How if it be watchfull and forward, the body doubleth his pace, and if it be furious, or (that which is next to furie) be angry, how all the body trembleth, and how they go not, but are transported? How much more befalleth the vnderstanding thinkest thou, which is wholly intermixed with the soule, which formeth the same, bringeth it in action, and gi∣ueth it a law? In what sort Maecenas liued, it is better knowne, then that it nee∣ded to be expressed at this time, how he walked, how dainti•• he was, how desi∣rous to be seene, how vnwilling that his vices should be vndiscouered. What then, was not his discourse as dissolute as his life? Had he not as much affectation and vanitie in his speech, as in his equipage, then in his traine, then in his house, then in his wife? He was a man of great vnderstanding, ••ad ••e not tracted a worser way, had he not affected obscuritie, had he not ouerflowed in his dis∣course. Thou shalt therefore see the eloquence of a drunken man enfolded, ex∣trauagant and full of libertie. Behold Maecenas in his manner of speech. Quid turpius amne siluis{que} ripa comantibus? Vide vt alueum lintribus arent, verso{que} vad•• re∣mittant hortos. Quid si quis faeminae cirro crispatae & labris columbatur? Incipit{que} suspi∣rans vt ceruice laxa feriatur. Nemo tirāni irremediabilis factio rimantur, epulis lagaenae{que} tentant domos & saepe mortem exigunt. Genium festo vix suo testem tenuis ••erei fila & crepacem molam•• Iocum mater & vxor inuestiunt. Wilt thou not suddenly remember, as soone as thou readest this, that this is the sp••ech of such a man, who alwayes trauersed Rome streets in his loose-gowne. For euen then when in Caesars absence he executed his office, hee deliuered the watch-word in this habit. Thinke that it is the same man, that in the Pallace, in the Tribunall du∣ring the time of Orations, in all assemblies of these people alwaies presented himselfe, hauing his face muffeled in his cloake, without discouering any thing but his eares, as they are accustomed to doe, who flie and will not be knowne, according as they are represented in Comedies. Hee it is that in the greatest height of ciuill warres, at such time as Rome was in armes and in feare, mar∣ched thorow the streetes, attended by two Eunuches, yet more men then him∣selfe. He it is that hath had but one wife, and notwithstanding hath been ma∣ried a thousand times. These words aboue written so badly builded, so negli∣gently disposed, so repugnant to the manner of all mens writings, shew that his manners were no lesse new, then particular and depraued. Hee hath beene highly prised for the sweetnesse of his nature, in that hee neuer bare armes, or euer tooke pleasure in shedding bloud, or did any thing, except that which the libertie of the time or his credit might permit him. But all this good reputation of his hath beene soyled by the affectations of this his monstrous manner of language: for in this it manifestly appeareth that hee was ra∣ther a milke-soppe then mercifull. These obscurities in ••is composition, these ouerth wart vvords, these conceits oftentimes: loftie, but without pith, discouer vnto him that will obserue the same, that too much felicitie had trou∣bled his head, a vice which is sometimes found in the man, sometimes in the

time. When as repose and felicitie produceth and soweth dissolution on euery side. First of all, a man beginneth more carefully to dresse and adorne his bo∣die. Afterwards his studie is to haue rich moueables, consequently he bethin∣keth himselfe of stately buildings, to make them more large, to enrich the walls with Marbles fetched from beyond seas, to embolish the roofes with gold, that the beautie of the pauement be answerable to the richnesse of many beames. Then transferreth he his daintinesse to the magnificence of his table, and there searcheth he glorie in noueltie, and changing the accustomed fashions amongst our predecessors, so that those things which were wont to bee serued in last at supper, are brought in first, and those things that were presented to those that entered to the feast, are giuen to those that depart from it. After that mans minde was accustomed to loath that which was in vse, and things that are ordi∣narie were accounted contemptible: he goes and seekes out a new language, re∣uiuing and renuing vnusuall and forgotten words, then forgeth he new, and re∣grateth the vnknowne: that which is but newly found out is reputed elegant, and figuratiue translations are audacious and frequent. Some thinke to credit themselues by speaking to the halfes, and abbreuiating their speech in such sort, as he that heareth knoweth not what to thinke. Other there are that delate and draw them out, some there are that draw not vnto the vice (for he must needs, that vndertaketh any great thing to doe the same) yet such as loue the same. Wheresoeuer therefore thou seest that men take delight in an obscure and cor∣rupt speech, hold thy selfe assured that their manners are depraued. Euen as ex∣cessiue banquets and superfluous rayments are witnesses that the Common-weale is sicke, so this libertie in coyning new tearmes and words (if so be the custome be continued) sheweth that the spirits of those that speake thus, are entangled and lost. Wonder thou not in any sort, that this corruption is as plea∣sing to the mightiest, as to the meaner sort, for the greatest and the poorest dif∣fer not in iudgements, but in their pompe and estate. Rather wonder thou that men praise the effects of vices, and the vices themselues. For this hath beene alwaies done: there was no pleasing wit that had not his pardon. Giue me what∣soeuer man thou wilt of greatest name, and I will tell thee wherein the age wherein he liued pardoned him, and what they willingly dissembled in him. I will reckon thee vp many, whose vices harmed them not, and some, whose er∣rors profited them. I will, I say, let thee see some of great renowne, and repu∣ted most excellent men, whom if a man will censure, he confoundeth them. For so are their vertues intermixed with their vices, that the one do necessarily draw the other after them. Adde hereunto that language hath no certaine rule. The publike custome which changeth it incessantly, altereth it from yeare to yeare. Some men borrow words from another age. They vse the stile of the Lawes written in the twelue tables. Gracchus, Crassus, and Curio are ouer new for them, they returne as farre as Appius and Coruncanus. Some other contra∣riwise, that will haue nothing which is not vulgar and triuiall, speake very bare∣lie. Both of them are corrupted in a diuers manner so much certainlie, as if they would vse pompous wel-sounding and poeticall words, and flie those that are necessarie and in vse: I will say that as well the one as the other doth amisse. The one esteemeth thēselues more then is necessary, the other mispriseth thē∣selues ouer much; the one pull the haire frō their legs, the other not from their arme pits. Let vs passe ouer to cōposition, how many defaults may I discouer to thee? The one allow of a crabbed and harsh discourse, they disturbe a smooth and pleasing stile: no period is pleasing to them, if it be not harsh and rough:

they repute that manly and strong which affecteth the ••are with inequalitie. The other in stead of speaking, seeme to sing, so fl••ttering and so fluent is the structure of their wordes. What will you say of that where the words are de∣ferred, and after we haue attended them long time•• hardly returne they vnto their clauses? What shall I say of that which in the issue is moderate (as is that of Ciceroes and falling and ending afterwards sweetly, and answerable to the fashion; and hath his ending answerable to the manner and foot. There is not onely an errour in the kind of sentences, if eyther they are too weake and chil∣dish, and more proude and bolde then modestie will permit, but they are too flourishing and sweet, if they be deliuered in vaine and without any effect, they doe no more but sound. These vices some one man bringeth in, whose elo∣quence in that time is applauded, the rest doe imitate him, and the one deliue∣reth it to the other. So when Salust was in request, the sentences were curt••lled, and wordes had their vnexpected cadence, and obscure breuitie with the rest was reputed elegancie, Aruncius a man of rare frugalitie, who wrote the Hi∣storie of the Carthaginian warres, was a Salus••ian, and an excellent man in that kinde. There is an SALVST, Exercitum argento fe••it: that is to say, he made an armie with siluer; that is, he assembled an armie with money. This did Arun∣cius, he planted it in euery page: he saith in a certaine place, Fugam nostri fecere, that is to say, our men made a flight: and in another place Hiero King of Syracu∣sa, Bellum facit, maketh warre: and likewise in another place, Quae a••dita Panormi∣tanos dedere Romanis fecere, that is to say, which things being heard, they made that the Inhabitants of Panormus rendred themselues to the Romanes•• I thought good to giue thee a little taste. All this whole booke is composed of words. Those wordes that were rare in Salust are vsuall in him, and almost continued: and not without cause; for the one lighted on them by chance, the other sought for them. But thou seest what followeth him that taketh an er∣rour for an example: Salust said, Aquis hiemantibus, whilst the waters wintered. Ar••ncius in his first booke of the Carthaginian warre, saith, Repente hiemauit tem∣pestas, that is to say, the tempest suddenly wintered. And in another place, when he would say that the yeare was colde, he saith, Totus hiemauit annus, that is•• the whole yeare wintered. And in another place, Inde sexaginta onerarias leues pr••∣ter militem, & necessarios nautarum hiemante aquilone misit, that is, whilst the Aqui∣lon wintered, he sent from that place sixtie ships of small burthen, besides the Souldiers and necessarie Marriners. He neuer giueth ouer in all places to foist in this word. In a certaine place Salust saith, Inter arma ciuilia aequiboni famas pe∣tit, that is, amidst ciuill armes he sought the renowne of a man good and iust. A∣runtius tempered not himselfe, but presently in his first booke he inserted this, Ingentes esse famas de RE••VLO, that is, that the renownes of Regulus were great. This therefore and such like vices, which imitation hath impressed into any tokens of dissolution, or a corrupt minde. For they must be proper and conceiued by the vnderstanding, by which thou oughtest to estimate any mans effects. The speech of a cholericke man is hastie, and violent of a man that is moued to much stirring, of a delicate and ciuill man smooth and pleasant, which thou seest those men follow that eyther pull and trim their beards, that cause their mustachios to be cut short, that shaue their vpper lips very neere, and suf∣fer the rest to be as long as is possible, that weare their cloakes of an euill colour, and gownes of pure stuffe, who will doe nothing but that which is seene pub∣liquely, although they offend and displease the whole world. But they care not to be reproued, prouided, that they be beheld. Such is Mecaenas discourse and

all others else, which erre not casually but willingly. This errour proc••edeth from an euill conscience. Euen as in drunkennesse the tongue faltereth not, ex∣cept reason be obscured or betrayed: so this maner of speech (which is a meere drunkenesse of the spirit) is tedious to no man, except the vnderstanding of him that speaketh be shaken. Therefore we ought to heale the same, for from it the discourse, the words, the countenance, the regard, the marching is deriued; if it be whole and strong. The language is robust, strong and manly: contrari∣wise, if it be deiected all the rest grow to wracke,

The King in health then all mens mindes are one, The King once lost then all mens faith is gon••.

Our minde is our King if it be safe, the rest continue in their duetie, they obey and are gouerned, if he be neuer so little shaken, they droope with him. But when he giueth place to pleasure, his Arts and his actions also doe decay, and all his forces are feeble and fraile. Because I haue vsed this similitude I will perse∣uer. Our minde is now a King, now a Tyrant: a King when he beholdeth and aimeth at honestie, maintaineth the health of the bodie committed to his charge, and commandeth no filthy or sordid thing: but when he is cholericke, couetous and delicate, he assumeth a detes••able and direfull name, and is called Tyrant. Then doe impotent affections lay holde of him, and sollicite him in∣cessantly, and in the beginning of those that most presse him seeme to yeelde him pleasure; such as the people is accustomed to reioyce at when a tyrant ma∣keth them any larges to intrap them: but this abundance is vaine vnto the vn∣derstanding, which manageth that which he cannot dis-jest, when the sickenesse hath consumed his vigor more and more, and delights haue stolne into his nerues and marrow, the vnderstanding being ioyfull to behold these things (the vse whereof is vnprofitable to him, because he hath ouer-earnestly desired them) for the satisfaction of his delights, he enioyeth the sight of this or that, he is witnesse and vnder seruant of other mens lusts, being depriued of all delights of the same, because he is ouer-plunged therein: in briefe, the abundance of worldly pleasures in stead of conceiting him consumeth him, when he sees him∣selfe depriued of the meanes to let downe by his throate into his belly all the pleasant morsels he beholdeth, and to tumble himselfe basely amidst the troop of ba••des and harlots, he wonderfully grieueth because he is falne from the greatest part of his felicitie, hauing so straight receipt in a bodie so little. Is not this a true furie, my Lucilius, that none of vs thinketh that he is mortall? That we are insensible euery way of our infirmity? yea, that each one supposeth him∣selfe to be more then one. Behold our Kitchins, and our Cookes trauersing from one fire to another; wouldest thou thinke that for the refection of one on∣ly belly so much stirre should be made? Behold our Caues and Cellers repleni∣shed with the vintages of many ages; thinkest thou that it is for one belly that the wines of so many Consuls and Countries are stored vp? Behold in how ma∣ny places the earth is turned vp, how many thousands of husbandmen plough and digge the same; thinkest thou that it may seeme to be for one belly that Si∣cily and Africa are sowed? We shall be healthfull and desire little, if euery one of vs numbreth himselfe, and measure his body likewise, and know that it ney∣ther can receiue much, nor containe it long; yet is there nothing that will teach thee better to keepe a measure in all things, then an ordinarie meditation of the shortnes and vncertainty of this life, whensoeuer thou doost look backe vn∣to death.