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. LXXIIII.

O faire, O honest Epistle, and of honestie it selfe, and that indeed it is the onely good, the rest but in opinion. He that will safely and securely liue, let him so thinke. What likenesse? Let him haue a readie buckler against all casualties, which is to follow God. At length he answereth certaine obiections. Lastly he sheweth that a blessed life is as a circle, perfect both in small and great. That nothing is added, nothing taken therefrom by externall things. It must be reiterated. O faire, O honest, enioy thou this, who hast such a minde.

THy letter hath delighted me, and awakened me when I was wea∣ried, and quickened my memorie also, which is now slow and heauie. Why shouldest thou not, my Lucilius, thinke this per∣swasion to be the greatest instrument of blessed life, that there is onely one good, that is to say, that which is honest? Hee that hath circumscribed all sorts of good vnder honestie, is happie in himselfe. For he that iudgeth that other things are goods, subiecteth himself to the power of Fortune, and dependeth on another mans will. This man is sorrowfull for the losse of his children, another carefull of them that are sicke, and that other, if they be dishonest and noted of infamie. Thou shalt see one man tormented with the loue of another mans wife, and another transported with the loue hee beareth his owne. There wanteth not some one likewise, that is distracted with the repulse he receiueth in his affected dignitie, and another that is disgusted with the honor which he possesseth. But the greatest number of all those men which are thus miserable, is of them whom the assault and touch of impendent death, which they feare on euery side, presseth and tormenteth incessantly, for there is nothing from whence they thinke not, that she should not assaile them. Therefore as if they liued in an enemies country, they ought to looke about them on euery side, and on euery voice they heare, to turne their neckes thither∣ward: for except this feare be driuen out of their breasts, they liue in continuall heart-breake and suspition. Some will be found out that haue beene sent into exile, and depriued of their goods, and some also will occur (which kinde of pouertie is the most irkesome) poore in their riches. Thou shalt meete with some that are shipwracked, or such as haue suffered some such like thing vnto shipwracke, whom either the wrath or enuy of the common sort (which is a dangerous weapon to wound the better sort) hath ouerthrowne vnawares, and when they were most secure, after the manner of a gust, which is wont to breake forth in the most seeming s••curite of a calme, or a sudden lightning, at whose cracke the neighbouring countries haue trembled. For euen as he that is nee∣rest to this ••ire, remaineth as much amazed, as if he had beene striken: in like sort, in these accidents that come by violence, the calamitie oppresseth one, but feareth the rest, & maketh the abilitie to suffer equal with the heauines of those that doe suffer. Other mens misfortunes, which surprise them at vnawares, astonish the mindes of all those that see them. And euen as the onely noise of a sling•• although it be not charged, frighteth the birds. In like manner, wee not onely tremble at the stroake, but at the least cracke we heare. No man therefore can be blessed, that hath credited himselfe to this opinion. For nothing is bles∣sed, but that which is without feare: the life is miserable that is incombe••ed with suspition. Whosoeuer hath addicted himselfe very much vnto casualties,

hath made himselfe a great and inexplicable matter of perturbation. There is but one way for him to tract, that will search out a life full of assurance, which is to contemne the goods of Fortune, and to content himselfe with that which is honest. For if any man thinketh that there is any other thing better then ver∣tue, or that there is any other good besides the same: he openeth his bosome to that which Fortune spreadeth, and with extreame care expecteth those goods whereof she maketh larges. Suppose, and imagine in thy minde, that For∣tune maketh publike plaies, and that she casteth amiddest this great assembly of men, honors, riches, and fauours, whereof the one part is broken and torne in peeces, betweene the hands of those that rauish them; another part is vnequal∣ly diuided by a disloyall societie; and another hath wrought their inestimable damage, that haue engrossed them; and finally also some others, haue fallen into the hands of some they thought not any wise of, and others haue beene lost by running after the same ouer-greedily, and they haue bin torne out of our hands by reason of the ouer-greedy desire which we had to attain them. To conclude, there is not any, how happie soeuer his rauishment be, whose ioy, in respect of that he hath rauished, can endure long time. For which cause, the wiser sort, as soone as they see the pr••sents brought in, flie out of the theater, as knowing well, that a little thing would cost them deare. No man fighteth with him that retireth, no man striketh him that flieth, it is vpon the prey the contention groweth. The same succ••s••e is there in those things that Fortune casteth down from on high. We burne in miserable desire after these goods, we are in great trauell, we desire to haue many hands; now regard we this man, presently that man, we thinke that they are too slowly sent vnto vs which stir vp our desires, and that it can fall but into few mens hands, although it be expected and desi∣red by all men. We desire to encounter those that fall•• we laugh if we may sur∣prise any thing, and some other enuie, whom vaine hope hath deceiued. Wee redeeme a lamentable damage with a little prey, or thereby were deceaued. Let vs therefore depart from these playes, and let vs giue place to these rauishers. Let these men fixe their intention as much as they will on those goods which hang in the aire, and let themselues likewise be more in suspence. Whosoeuer is resolued to be blessed, let him resolue there is but one good, which is honestly. For if he supposeth that there is any other good; first of all he iudgeth euill of Gods prouidence, because many mishaps befall good men: and because all that which she hath giuen vs, is but of a very small continuance, if thou compare it with the age of the whole world. From this complaint it groweth, that we are vngratefull interpreters of diuine things. We complaine, because goods befall vs not euery day, that they are little, that they are incertaine, and that they must suddenly depart from vs. Hence commeth it to passe•• that wee will not liue, neither haue desire to die; we hate life, and we feare death. All our counsailes are vncertaine, and ther•• is no felicitie that can satisfie vs. The cause hereof is nothing else, but that we haue not as yet attained that soueraigne good, which cannot be surmounted by any other thing, and on which we ought to stay our desires, for aboue the place that is most highest, there is no other place. Askest thou me why vertue hath need of nothing? Because she is pleased with things present, and desireth not the absent. There is nothing but seemeth great vnto her, because that euery thing sufficeth her. And if thou shouldest separate thy selfe from this opinion, neither pietie nor faith should haue any place. He that would follow both the one and the other, shall bee constrained to suffer verie much of that which we call euill, and to spend much of that which we esteeme

and reckon of for good. Furthermore, constancie that must make triall of her selfe is lost, magnanimitie is lost also, because she cannot approue her selfe, ex∣cept she contemne al things as ouer base, which the common sort desireth as the most greatest. In briefe, the grace and requitall of all good turnes is lost, it is but paine and trauell, if we thinke that there is any other thing more precious then faith, and if wee fixe not our eyes on that which is the best. But to let these things passe, either those that are called goods, or none at all; or a man is happier then God. For God maketh no vse of those goods which are pre∣pared for vs, disordinate pleasures, foolish expences in banquets, riches, nor any of that which may allure a man, or draw him to loathsome pleasures, ap∣pertaine not to him. We must then say (that which is incredible) either that God hath want of these goods: or wee must conclude vpon this argument, that whatsoeuer God wanteth is not good. Furthermore, there are many things that would be thought to bee goods, which are more amplie employed on beasts then on men. They eate with more greater appetite, they are not so soone wearied in the act of generation, their forces are more great and lasting, whereby it followeth that they are more happy then man: for they liue with∣out wickednesse or deceit, they enioy their pleasures, which they enioy more fully, and more easily, without any feare of shame or repentance. Consider thou therefore, whether that is to be called good, wherein God is ouercome by man. Let vs lodge the soueraigne good in our mindes•• He loseth all his grace and dignitie, if from the better part, which is in vs, it should be translated to the worse, and should be transferred to the senses, which are more actiue in brute beasts. Our chiefest felicitie is not to be planted in the flesh. Those are true goods which reason giueth, they are solide and euerlasting; which cannot fall, neither be decreased nor diminished. The rest are goods in opinion, they haue onely a common name with the true, but they haue no propertie or ef∣fects of vertue in them. Let them then be called commodities, or according to our phrase, profits and reuenues. But let vs know that they are but as our slaues, and not any part of vs, let them be in such sort with vs; that we remem∣ber our selues that they are without vs, and if they be with vs, wee must put them in the number of those things which are most base and abiect, and for which no man ought to waxe proud. For what is more foolish, then for a man to please himselfe, in that which himselfe hath not done? Let all these things approach vs, but not cleaue vnto vs, and if they must bee drawne from vs, let them be so seuered, that we be not distracted and torne therby. Let vs vse them, and not glory in them, and let vs vse them sparingly, as such things as are lent vs, and are not to remaine with vs. Whosoeuer vseth them contrary to reason, he hath not long time enioyed them. For felicitie it selfe hu••teth vs, excep•• it be well tempered and gouerned: is ouer-pressed, if she trust her selfe to transi∣torie goods, she is quickly forsaken, and le••t she should be forsaken, she tormen∣teth her selfe infinitly. There are few men who ••aue had the fortune to lay by their felicitie contentedly. The rest of men, with those goods that made them esteemed aboue others, are deiected, and that which for a time exalted them, ••inally humbleth them. Much wisdome therefore must be made vse of, which may dispose them with measure and parsimony. For a disordinate libertie o∣uer beareth and destroyeth his proper riches in such sort, that immeasurable expence hath neuer continued long, if reason by her moderation had not re∣strained the same. The miserable end of diuers cities will make thee know this, whose luxurious empires in their first flower and pride haue decayed, and will

teach thee, that all that which hath bin gotten by vertue, is ruinated by super∣fluitie and lauish expence. Against these casualties are we to arme our selues. There is not any wall that can r••sis•• the batteries of ••ortune: and it is within vs, that we ought to arme our selues. If that noble fortresse be assured, a man may be assailed, but he cannot be surprised. Wilt thou know what fortificati∣on it is? That he trouble not himselfe with any thing that may happen, that he beleeue that whatsoeuer, yea euen that which seemeth to offend him, depen∣deth on the conseruation of the whole world, and that it is a part of that which finisheth the course and office of the heauens. A man ought to take pleasure in all that which God taketh pleasure in, hee ought to admire himselfe, and all that which is in him, for this onely consideration, that he cannot be vanquish∣ed, that he holdeth his euill vnder his feete, and that with reason, then which nothing is more powerfull, he surmounteth Fortune, griefe and iniurie. Loue reason then, for the loue thereof will arme thee against all the greatest misfor∣tunes that may be. The loue of their yong ones causeth wilde beastes, to fall into snares, who otherwise by their fiercenesse and violence were vntameable. Sometimes the desire of glorie hath drawne some yong and generous mindes into contemp••, both of sword and fire•• the opinion and shadow of vertue hath egged some on to seeke out a voluntarie death. But the stronger and constan∣ter reason is against all this, the more vehement and violent becommeth shee a∣gainst all feare and danger. You doe nothing, will some man say, because you deny that there is any other good but honestie. This defence of yours shall not make you strong and impregnable against Fortune. For you say that amongst these goods, a man ought to include obedient children, cities well gouerned, and parents that are honest. And yet if these be in any danger, you cannot see it without astonishment. For a siege of thy citie, the death of thy children, and the bondage of thy parents will trouble thee. But I will set thee downe what it is, that is accustomably answered for vs in this case•• and then againe will I adde what besides that may be answered in my iudgement. There is another con∣dition in those things which being taken from vs, substitute some other incom∣moditie in their place, as health being impaired, changeth it selfe into sicknes, the sight of the eye extinguished, affecteth vs with blindnesse, and when the ••ammes are cutte, not onely sinewes perish, but debilitie followeth in stead thereof. And yet danger is not in those things, which wee haue spoken of a little before: Why? Because that if I haue lost a good friend, I must not therefore be perfidious for him, neither if I haue buried good children; there is no reason that impietie should supply their place, to endanger and hurt me. Moreouer, by this death, friends and children are not lost, it is but the bodie. But good cannot be lost, but by one only mean, that is, if it should change it selfe into euill, which Nature permitteth not, for all v••rtu••s and all their actions re∣maine incorruptible. Againe, although that friends, although that well appro∣ued children, and haue in nothing contradicted their fathers commands, bee dead, yet notwithstanding, ••here is something that may supply their place. As∣kest thou me what it may be? It is that vertue that hath made them good men. She suffereth not at any tim••, that there should be any place voide. She entire∣ly taketh seisure of our soules, she exterminat••th the sorrow of all things, and contenteth her ••elfe to be alone. For th•• power & original of all goods is in her. What skilleth it if the water that floweth bee stolne, or ••••ee••e away, if the foun∣taine from whence it issueth be liuing and replenished. Thou wilt not say, that a man is more iust, because his children are yet aliue, or for that they ar•• dead••

no more moderate, more honest, more wise, more better, consequently a great number of friends make not a man more wise, neither the diminution, or want of them, maketh him not more foolish, and consequently also, neither more happy, nor more miserable. As long as thy vertue shall remaine entire, thou shalt neuer feele any losse that thou hast made. What then? Is not he who is enuironed with a goodly troupe of friends and children more happie? Why should he not be? Because the soueraigne good cannot be•• diminished or aug∣mented. He alwayes remaineth after the same fashion. Howsoeuer Fortune car∣rie her selfe, although the yeares be old, or that he die before he be aged, it is one and the same measure of the soueraigne good, although it be different in age. Whether thou make a circle greater or lesser; it is but in respect of the space, but not of the figure: and although the one hath remained a long time painted, and that thou hast incontinently defaced the other, and couered it with dust in the place where thou hast cast it; yet both the one and the other were the same figure. That which is right and iust is not esteemed by the greatnes, nor by the number, nor by the time; it can neither be lengthened nor strengthened. Take as much as thou wilt, an honest life that endured an hundred yeares, and reduce and determine it in one only day, the one is as honest as the other. Vertue ex∣tendeth it selfe more at large: shee gouerneth Kingdomes, Cities, and whole Prouinces, she maketh lawes, she priseth and honoreth friendships, she distribu∣teth offices and duties betweene the neerest parents and their children; and pre∣sently she circumscribeth her self in a straiter scope of pouertie, banishmēt, and losse of children. Yet is she not lessened, although that from a great and high estate she is fallen, into a priuate and particular, and from a royall throne, to an abiect and base place. And if from a publike and ample power, she restraine her selfe in a homely cottage, or in some corner she is alwayes as great, if after shee hath beene driuen from all places, she solely retire her selfe into her selfe. For this notwithstanding, she hath a courage great and inuincible, a prudence tha•• is perfect, a iustice immutable, and consequently she is alwayes happy. For this blessednes and this good is lodged in one only place, that is to say, in the minde. It is euerlasting, & full of tranquillitie, which cannot be without the knowledge of diuine and humane things. It followeth now, that which I said I would an∣swere. A wise-man tormenteth not himselfe for the losse of his children, nor his friends, for he endureth their death with as equall constancie and courage, as he expecteth his owne. He feareth the one as little as he grieueth for the other, because vertue consisteth in conueniencie, all her workes are agreeable with he•• selfe, and answer one another. This concord would be last, if the minde which should be assured and constant, should suffer it selfe to be ouercom with sorrow and sadnesse. All sorts of astonishment, all feare, all idlenesse and slackenesse in any act whatsoeuer, is dishonest. For all that which is honest is full of assurance; and diligence; it is neuer astonished, but alwayes prepared. What then, shall he not feele some passion like vnto trouble? Shall he not change his colour? Shall not his countenance discouer some perturbation, shall not his members wax chill? and all other things which a man doth not by the command of the minde, but by a sudden and inconsiderate heate of nature? I confesse he shall. But he shall alwayes be thus perswaded, that none of all this is euill, nor wor∣thy that a good vnderstanding should be astonished at. All that which he ought to doe, he will doe boldly and readily: for who is he that will not say that it is the proper nature of follie, to performe that cowardly and against his heart which he doth, and to driue the bodie into one place, and the minde into ano∣ther;

and to suffer himselfe to be drawne by so many contrarie motions. That euery thing for which she esteemeth her selfe so much, and for which she en∣tereth into admiration of her selfe, maketh her contemptible•• and besides, that which is worse, she performeth not that with a good will, from whence she ta∣keth her glorie. But if she feareth that any euill should befall her, she perplex∣eth her selfe in exspectation thereof: she tormenteth her selfe as if the euill had alreadie attainted her; and all that which she feareth she may suffer hereafter, she presently suffereth by the meanes of her feare. Euen as there are certaine signes that appeare in the bodie before the feuer commeth (for a man feelet•• a dulnesse in the sinewes, a lassitude, a gaping or yawning, and a horrour which passeth thorow all the members) In like sort a sicke minde feeleth some shakings and assaults, which enfeeble him before the euill touch him: he enters into sorrows, and loseth his heart before the time. But what more greater follie may a man see, then for a man to dismay his mind for such things as are yet to com? and not to be able to reserue himselfe to suffer the torment when it shall come, but to summon miseries a farre off, and to approach them, before they presse him; which he were better to delay if he might not auoyde. Wilt thou know that no man ought to be tormented for that which is to come? Whosoeuer shall heare it said, that some fiftie yeares hence he must be led to execution, he will not torment himselfe, because he hath past the halfe of this time, and that he is not plunged in this disquiet of mind, which should not com but in an age after. The like befalleth those spirits that are voluntarily sicke, and do nothing but seeke occasion of sorrow, who are sad for things long since forepassed and forgotten. All that which is past and which is to come, is absent. We neyther perceiue the one nor the other. But there is no griefe but of that which thou feelest.