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. CXX.

How the knowledge of goodnesse came vnto vs by obseruation and conference, as also by the assistance of nature. And it commeth likewise by the contrary, that is, by the de••estation of vice. He describeth a wise-man, who not onely spurneth against those things which are commonly to be required or feared, but death: also in conclusion such a one as is alwayes one, and constant to himselfe.

THy Epistle hath wandred about many pettie questions, yet hath staied it selfe vpon one, and desireth to haue my resolution here∣in: how the first notice of good and honest things come vnto vs. These two things in some mens opinion are diuers, but with vs that are Stoicks, they are only diuided. I wil tel thee what this is; Some men thinke that that is good which is profitable, and therefore they im∣pose this name vnto riches, to a horse, to wine, to a shoe; so abiect is the name of good amongst them, and so vnduly applyed vnto seruile vses. They sup∣pose that honest which consisteth in the discharge of a well-gouerned duety, as to haue a charitable care of a mans father in his age, to comfort and relieue the pouertie of a mans friend, to behaue himselfe valiantly in a warlike expedition, to deliuer a mans opinion wisely and moderately. These make we two, but out of one. Nothing is good except it be that which is honest, that which is ho∣nest is good also. I suppose it a superfluous matter to annex what difference there is betwixt them, when as I haue oftentimes expressed the same. I will on∣ly say this, That nothing seemeth good vnto vs, which a man may vse badly. But thou seest how many there be that vse their riches, nobilitie and strength badly. I now therefore returne vnto that which thou desirest me to resolue thee in, how the knowledge of that which is good and honest came ••irst vnto vs. This nature could not teach vs, for she gaue vs but the seeds of sciences, and not science it selfe. Some say that we casually come to the knowledge therof, which is incredible, that the image of vertue should casually appeare vnto any man. But we suppose that by diligence, obseruation, and frequent conference of things, estimated by that which is good and honest, we haue attained to this knowledge. And since the Latine Grammarians haue made this word a Citti∣zen

of Rome, I will not condemne it, nor return it to the Cittie from whence it came. I will therfore vse the same, not only as a receiued but as a vsuall word: I will set downe what the Analogie is; We haue knowne that there is a health of the bodie, and thereby haue we gathered that there is some health and vi∣gor of the minde. We haue knowne the strength of the bodie, and by these in∣ferre we that there is a strength of the minde likewise. Some benigne actions some humane, some strong haue amazed vs; these began we to admire as if per∣fect. These were trauersed by diuers defaults, which the appearance and bright∣nesse of some notable deed did couer, by meanes whereof wee haue made a shew that we saw them not. Nature commandeth vs to amplifie those things which are praise-worthy, whereupon euery one hath raised glory aboue the truth. From these things therefore we haue drawne the appeareance of an ex∣cellent good. Fabricius refused King Pyrrhus golde, and iudged it a greater mat∣ter then a Kingdome, to be able to contemne Kingly riches. The same man when a Phisitian promised to poyson Pyrrhus, gaue him notice thereof, and wi∣shed him to beware of treason. It was the same vertue in Fabricius, neyther to be ouercome with golde, nor to ouercome with poyson. We haue admired this great personage, who neyther suffered himselfe to be won by the Kings pre∣sents, nor by the Phisitians promises against the King; constant in his vertuous resolution, innocent in warre, which is a rare thing in a souldier, who though that a man might be wicked euen against an enemy; who in his greatest pouerty whereby he had gotten himselfe the most honor, no otherwise fled from riches then from poyson. Liue, said he, by my meanes O Pyrrhus, and reioyce, al∣though thou wert displeased therewith that Fabricius could not be corrupted. Horatius Cocles himselfe alone closed vp, and defended the strait passage of a bridge, and commanded a Trench to be made behinde him, to the end that his enemies might be hindered from entrance. And so long resisted he those that assailed him, vntill such time as he heard the noyse of the prop and timber that fell vnder him. And after he had looked behinde him, and perceiued that by his danger his countrie was freed from danger: Let him come, saith he, whosoeuer will follow me thither whither I goe. And hauing said thus, he cast himselfe des∣perately into the water; and hauing no lesse care in this violent channell of the riuer to saue his conquering armes as his life, and hauing maintained the honor of his victorie, he returned into the Cittie as secure as if hee had entred by the bridge. These and such like acts haue expressed vnto vs the Image of his ver∣tue. I will adde that which happily may seeme admirable: Euill things some∣t••••es haue presented themselues in the shape of honesty, and that which was the best hath beene manifested by his contrary. Some vices, as thou knowest, haue some resemblance of vertues, and those men that are most vicious and dis∣honest, haue some appearance of goodnesse. So doth the prodigall man coun∣terfeit the liberall, although there be a great difference betwixt knowing how to giue, and how to keepe. Many there are, my Lucilius, who giue not but cast a∣way their money; for I call him not liberall that is angrie with his mony. Neg∣ligence imitateth facilitie, and rashnesse fortitude. This similitude hath con∣strained vs to consider things, & to distinguish those things which are neere in appearance, but farre different and contrary in effect, whilst wee obserue these, whom some noble exployt hath made famous, we haue begun to note what he might be that at one time only had resolutly, and nobly executed some enter∣prise. We haue seene this man valiant in warre, fearefull in the iudgement seat, enduring his pouertie constantly, his infamy abiectly: we haue praised the act,

but contemned the man. We haue seene another curteous towards his friends, temperate towards his enemies, managing both publique and priuate affaires, both piously and religiously, not wanting patience in those things which hee was to suffer, nor prudence in those things he was to performe: we haue seene such a one that gaue bountifully where necessitie required, that was diligent and industrious where he was to labour, and that relieued the wearinesse of his bodie with the constancie of his minde. Besides, he was alwayes one, and like himselfe in euery action, not onely good in wordes and counsaile, but by cu∣stome brought to this passe, that besides that that he could not do•• ill, he could not also doe but that which was good. Then vnderstanding that vertue was perfected in such a one, we haue distinguished it into some parts. Desires ought to be restrained, f••••re repressed, actions foreseene, duties distributed: we com∣prehended temperance, fortitude, prudence, justice, and gaue euery one of them their particular office. Whereby therefore came we to the knowledge of ver∣tue? It was the order therof, the seemelinesse, and constancie, and the vniformi∣tie of all actions, within themselues, and the greatnesse thereof, that exalted it selfe aboue all things that shewed the same. Hereby was that blessed life vn∣derstood that hath a prosperous course, and dependeth wholly of it selfe. How therefore appeared this thing vnto vs? I will tell thee: neuer did that perfect man who was possessed of vertue curse fortune, neuer entertained he any acci∣dents with discontent. Beleeuing himselfe to be a Cittizen and Souldier of the world, he vnderwent labours, as if they had beene enioyned him. Whatsoeuer happened he refused it not as euill, or that casually fell vpon him, but as some charge committed vnto him. This, saith he, whatsoeuer it be is mine, be it eyther difficult or dangerous let vs trauaile therein•• of necessitie therefore he appea∣red great, who neuer groaned vnder the burthen of afflictions, neuer complay∣ned of his destinie, gaue vnto many a taste of himselfe, and no otherwise then a light shined in darkenesse, and drew all mens minds vnto him, by reason he was curteous and gentle, entertaining in good part all affaires both diuine and hu∣mane. He had a perfect minde, drawne to the height of his perfection; aboue which there is nothing but the minde of God, a parcell whereof is deriued into this mortall bodie, which is neuer more diuin•• then when it thinketh on his mortalitie, and knoweth that man is borne to this end, to forsake this life; ney∣ther that this bodie is a house but an hostrie, yea and a short hostrie which must be forsaken, when thou perceiuest that thou art displeasing to thine host. I tell thee, my Lucilius, it is a great argument of a minde that is deriued from a higher place, if it repute those things humble and abiect wherein he conuerseth, and if he feareth to forsake them: for he knoweth whether he shall depart that re∣membreth himselfe from whence he came. See we not how many incommodi∣ties doe torment vs, how badly this mortall bodie doth agree with vs. Some∣times we complaine of our bellies, afterwards of our heads, then of our breast and throat: sometimes we are tormented in our nerues, sometimes vexed in our feete: to day the flux, to morrow the rhume: sometimes too much bloud, sometimes too little, euery way are we troubled and driuen from one place to another. This befalleth them who are lodged in another mans house; but we that possesse so rotten a bodie, yet notwithstanding propose vnto our selues an eternitie, and as far as humane age may extend it selfe, so farre are we seized with hope•• contenting our selues with no money or power. What can be more im∣pudently or more foolishly done then this? There is nothing that contenteth vs that are to die, nay that die euery day: for we daily approach our last houre,

and there is not a day or houre that driueth and driueth vs into the graue where we must rest. See into what blindnesse our mindes are driuen: a greater part of that which I haue said must come, is alreadie come, and threatneth vs euery mi∣nute, for the time wee haue liued is in the same state where it was before wee were liuing. But it is a great folly for vs to feare the last dayes of the same, be∣cause the first contribute as much vnto death as the last. The degree in which we breath our last, is not that which leaueth vs, but onely it sheweth vs our las∣situde. The last day maketh vs touch death, all the rest to approch. She rauish∣eth vs not at once, but snatcheth vs away by little and little. A greater minde therefore that knoweth that he must be par••aker of a better life, endeuoureth it selfe in this statim wherein he is placed, to demeane himselfe honestly and in∣dustriously. Moreouer, he iudgeth nothing of these things that are about him to be his own, but like a stranger, and such a one as must suddenly forsake them, vseth them as lent him. When wee should see a man of this constancie, why should we not conceiue in him the image of an vnusuall vnderstanding•• if, as I say, he should make show of so true a greatnesse? True qualities continue in their entire, false are flitting. Some men at sometimes are Vatinians, at other times ••atoes, and some whiles Curius, in their opinions is a little too seuere. Fabricius not sufficiently poore, Tubero scarce frugall enough, and content with a little, they prouoke Licinius in riches, Apicius in suppers, Mace••as in delights. Incon∣stancie and a continuall agitation betwixt the dissembling of vertues, and the loue of vices, is a great token of an euill minde.

Oft-times two hundred men did him attend, Oft-times bu••••en•• sometimes his speech did tend To Kings, to Tetrarches, and to great estates, Sometimes his Fortunes he more basely rates: I will, saith he, haue a three-footed table, A homely salt, a gowne that shall be able, Though homely, to withst and the winter cold: Hadst thou committed to this niggards hold, That is contented with so little pelfe, Ten thousand crownes to seede and cloath himselfe Within few dayes, nor he, nor all his meny Could pay thee one, or blesse thee with a peny.

All these are such as Horace describeth this man, who was neuer himselfe, or euer like himselfe; so diuersly changed he. Said I diuers, scarcely is there one but is such. There is no man that doth not daily change both his counsaile and his vow: now will he haue a wife, then a Lemman: now will he gouerne, presently he laboureth for this, that no man may be a more officious seruant. Sometimes he exalteth himselfe so much, as he contracteth enuie: sometimes hee abuseth himselfe vnder euery one, and becommeth more miserable then those that are truely wretched: now scattereth he his money abroad, presently after hee en∣grosseth all other mens. Hereby especially is an imprudent minde discouered, euery one betrayeth him, and that which in my opinion is most base, he is vn∣like himselfe. Repute thou it to be a great vertue for a man to be one. But no man but a wise man doth one thing, all the rest of vs haue many shapes. To day we will seeme to be modest and graue, to morrow prodigall and vaine: we of-times change our maske, and oftentimes take a contrarie to that we haue put

off. Exact thou therefore this of thy selfe, that to thy last breath thou main∣taine thy selfe such, as thou hast resolued to shew thy selfe. Doe this, that thou mayest be praised, or approued at the least. A man may iustly say of him whom thou sawest yesterday, what is this man? So much is a man changed in a lit∣tle time.