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. XCII.

That reason ruleth in man, and that all things are to be referred to this, and that bles∣sed life is in that being perfect. That externall things haue light or no weight. Al∣so that pleasure is of no moment, it is the good of vnreasonable creatures. And yet that externall things may be assumed, which are according to nature; but with iudge∣ment: and that this then is good in them, to be well chosen. Neuerthelesse also with∣out them, that one is blessed, yea most blessed by vertue alone. These things may be∣fall: yet being added, they doe not encrease, nor being taken away doe decrease bles∣sednesse: against which no time can doe any thing. That wee are to be made like to God, and that we goe to him.

I Thinke that thou and I agree of this, that externall things are gotten for the body, and that the body is reuerenced for the honour of the minde, that there bee seruile parts in the minde, whereby wee bee mooued and nourished, giuen vnto vs for that principall thing. In this principall there is somewhat that is vnreasonable and reasonable. That serueth to this. This is one thing, that is not referred vnto any besides: but it carrieth all things vnto it selfe. For also that diuine reason is set ouer all things, it selfe is vnder none. And also this of ours is the same, because it is from it. If we agree amongst our selues concerning this, it followeth also that we agree concerning that, that bles∣sed life is placed in this one thing, that reason may be perfect in vs. For this a∣lone submitteth not the minde, it standeth against Fortune. In euery habit of things, it being preserued, preserueth. But that is the onely good, which is ne∣uer broken off. He, I say, is blessed, whom nothing maketh lesser; he holdeth the chiefe, and leaneth not indeed vpon any thing, saue vpon himselfe, For he may fall, who is sustained by the helpe of another. If it be otherwise, those things that be not ours shall begin to preuaile much in vs. But who shall stand by Fortune, or what wise-man admireth himselfe for those things that bee o∣thers? What is blessed life? securitie and perpetuall tranquillitie. The great∣nesse of the minde will giue this, and a firme constancie of a thing well iudged of. But how come we to this? If all veritie be throughly looked vpon; if an order, manner, comlinesse, and an hurtlesse will, or that wich is bountifull, and bent to reason, and neuer departing from it, being both louely, and to be ad∣mired, be preserued in the doing of things. Lastly, that I may briefely write the forme vnto thee, such ought the minde of a wise-man to bee, as may be∣come a god. What can he desire, to whom all honest things doe befall? For if things that be not honest, can conferre any thing to the best estate, blessed life shall be in those things, without which it is not. And what is more foolish or more dishonest, then to tie the good of a reasonable soule vnto vnreasonable things? Notwithstanding, some iudge the chiefest good to be encreased, be∣cause it is scarcefull, casuall things resisting it. Antipater also amongst the great Authors of this sect, saith, that himselfe giueth somewhat to externall things, but very little. But thou seest what manner of thing it is, not to be contented with day-light, except some pettie fire shined vnto vs. What moment in this clearenesse of the Sunne can a sparke of fire haue? If thou art not contented with honestie alone•• it is needfull that thou wilt haue quiet to be added there∣unto, which the Grecians call hesychian, or pleasure. The one of these things

howsoeuer may be receiued. For the minde is voide of trouble, being free to the beholding of the vniuerse, and nothing calleth it away from the contem∣plation of Nature. That other thing, namely, pleasure is the good of a beast. We adde an vnreasonable thing to that which is reasonable, a dishonest thing to that which is honest. Doth the tickling of the body cause a happy life? Why therefore doubt ye to say, that a man is well, if his taste be well? And numbrest thou him, I doe not say, amongst men, but amongst mankinde, whose chiefest good consisteth of tastes, and colours, and sounds? Let that creature which is borne to eate, onely depart from that most beautifull number of liuing crea∣tures, and next vnto the gods, and let him be numbred with brute beasts. The vnreasonable part of the minde hath two parts: the one couragious, ambitious, vnbridled, placed in the affections: the other base, languishing, giuen vnto plea∣sures. They haue left that vnbridled, but better, certainely more valiant and more worthie a man: and haue thought this feeble and abiect to be necessarie to a blessed life. They haue commanded reason to serue this, and haue made that which is demisse and ignoble, to be the good of a most generous creature. Fur∣thermore, it is mixed, and monstrous, and framed of the diuers agreeing mem∣bers of liuing creatures. For as our Virgil saith of Sylla:

A womans face and virgins breasts most faire Vntill her middle-part: after she bare Fish-like, a bodie vast with Dolphines tailes, And many a woluish paunch with her she trailes.

But although that fierce, horrible, and swift liuing creatures are ioyned to this Sylla, yet of what monsters haue these men compounded wisdome? The first part of a man is vertue it selfe; the brittle and fading flesh, and apt onely to re∣ceiue meates, as Posidonius saith, is committed vnto this. That diuine vertue endeth in a mutable thing; and a sluggish and decaying liuing creature is ad∣ioyned to the higher, venerable, and heauenly parts thereof. That rest how quiet soeuer gaue of it selfe nothing indeed to the minde, but remoued impe∣diments. Pleasure of it owne accord dissolueth and mollifieth all strength. What so disagreeing coniunction of bodies amongst themselues shall bee found? A most sluggish thing is adioyned to that which is most valiant; scarce serious things to that which is most seuere, euen a distemperate and confused thing to that which is most holy. What therefore, saith he, if good health, and quiet, and a wanting of griefes shall no wayes hinder vertue, wilt thou not seeke for those things? What else but that I should seeke? Not because they be good, but because they be according to nature, and because with good iudgement they be taken by me. What good then shall there be in them? this one, to bee chosen well. For when I take such a garment as is meete, when I walke as is re∣quisite; when I sup as I ought: not the supper, or walking, or apparell are good things, but my purpose in these of keeping a meane agreeable vnto reason in e∣uery thing. Yea now I will adde, the choice of neat apparell is to bee desired by a man. For man is by nature a neat and an elegant liuing creature. There∣fore neat apparrell is not a good thing by it selfe, but the choice of neat appar∣rell; because it is not good in the thing, but in the choice: because our actions be honest, not those things that are acted. That which I haue spoken of appar∣rell, suppose that I haue spoken the same concerning the bodie. For Nature hath also compassed the minde with this, as a certaine apparrell, it is the cloa∣thing

thereof. But who at any time hath esteemed his apparrell by a chest? A sheath maketh the sword to be neither good nor bad. I also do answere thee the same concerning the bodie: I would take indeed, if choise be giuen, both health and strength. But my iudgment concerning them, and not they themselues, shal be that which is good. A wise-man is blessed indeed, saith hee; notwithstan∣ding, he obtaineth not that chiefest good, except also that naturall instruments be correspondent vnto him. Thus wretched indeed he cannot be, who hath vertue: but he is not most blessed, who is forsaken of naturall good things, as of health, and of soundnesse of members. Thou grantest that which seemeth more incredible, that one is not miserable in the greatest and in continuall dolors, yea also that he is blessed: thou deniest that which is more light, that hee is most blessed. But if vertue can cause that a man bee not miserable, it will more easily cause that he be most blessed. For lesse distance remaineth from blessed to most blessed, then from miserable to blessed. Or what thing preuaileth so much, that it may place him amongst the blessed, who is taken from calamities: can it not adde that which remaineth, to make him most blessed? Faileth it in the highest top? Commodities and discommodities are in life; both are without vs. If a good man be not miserable, although he be pressed with all discommodities; how is he not most blessed, although he be destitute of some commodities? For ••u••n as he is not depressed with a burthen of discommodities, to be euen a mi∣serable man; so is he not led with want of commodities, from being a most bles∣s••d man. But as well he is most blessed without commodities, as he is not mise∣rable by discommodities. Cannot his good be taken from him, if it can be di∣minished? A little before I said, that a small fire helpeth not the light of the Sunne. For whatsoeuer shineth without it, is hid with the clearnesse thereof. But certaine things, saith he, doe also hinder the Sunne. But the force and the light of the Sunne is whole, euen amongst opposite things: and although somewhat may lie betweene, which may hinder vs from the sight of it, yet is it in worke, and is carried in his owne course. So often as it hath shined amongst the clouds, it is no lesse, nor slow indeede, then when it shineth bright, because there is great difference, whether that somewhat doe only stand against or hin∣der. After the same sort opposite things detract nothing from vertue. It is not lesse, but shineth lesse: peraduenture it so appeareth not, nor shineth vnto vs: it is the same vnto it selfe, and after the fashion of the obscured Sunne, doth in secret exercise her force. Therefore calamities, and losses, and iniuries, can doe this against vertue, that a small cloud can doe against the Sunne. There is found, who saith, that a wise-man hauing scarce good health, is neither mi∣serable nor blessed. Hee also is deceiued; for hee matcheth casuall things with vertues, and giueth so much to honest things, as to things wanting hone∣stie. But what is more filthie, what is more vnworthie, then to compare vene∣rable things with those that are base? For faith, iustice, pietie, fortitude, pru∣dence, are venerable things: on the contrarie•• those bee vile, which doe be∣fall more full to the most base, namely, a sound thigh, and arme, and teeth, and the health and strength of these. Againe, if a wise man who hath a disea∣sed body, shall bee accounted neither miserable nor blessed, but shall bee left in the middest: his life also shall neither bee to bee desired nor to be fled from. But what is so absurde, as that a wise mans life should not bee desired? and what is so without credit, as that there is a life which is not to be de∣sired, or to be fledde from? Then if the losses of the bodie doe not make miserable, they suffer to bee blessed. For they vvhich haue not povver of

translating into a worser estate, haue not power indeede of hindering the best estate. We know, saith he, that somewhat is hot, and somewhat cold: and that luke-warme is betwixt them both. So one is blessed, and another mise∣rable; another neyther miserable nor blessed. I will diligently search this Image that is set against vs. If I shall put more cold into that luke-warme, it will bee made cold: if I shall power on more warme, it shall at last bee made warme. But how much soeuer I shall adde to the miseries of this man, who is neither miserable nor blessed, hee shall not bee miserable, as yee say, there∣fore this similitude is vnlike. Then I deliuer to thee a man neyther miserable nor blessed: I adde blindenesse to him, he is not made miserable: I adde weak∣nesse, hee is not made miserable: I adde continuall and grieuous dolours, hee is not made miserable. Whom so many euils translate not into a miserable life, they doe not indeede leade him from a blessed life. If a wise-man, as yee say, cannot fall from being blessed, to bee miserable, hee cannot fall into not blessed. For why should hee, who hath begunne to slide, s••ay any where? That thing which suffered him not to bee rolled to the bottome, keepeth him in the toppe. But why cannot a blessed life be vndone? indeede it cannot be lessened; and therefore vertue it selfe, by it selfe, is sufficient vnto it. What therefore, saith hee, is not a wise-man more blessed, who hath liued longer, whom no dolour hath called away: then hee who oftentimes hath wrastled with bad successe? Answere mee: Is hee not both better and honester? If these things bee not, hee is not more blessed indeede. It is meete that hee liue more rightly, that hee may liue more blessedly: if hee cannot liue more right∣ly, hee cannot liue more blessedly indeede. Vertue is not augmented: there∣fore not a blessed life indeede which is from vertue. For vertue is so great a good thing, that it feeleth not these small additions, namely, shortnesse of life, and dolour, and diuers discommodities of the bodie. For pleasure is not worthie, to which it may haue respect. What is the chiefest in vertue? Not to neede a future thing, nor to reckon his dayes. In whatsoeuer time yee will, eternall good maketh absolutely perfect. These things seeme incredible vnto vs, and running out aboue humane nature. For we measure the maiestie thereof by our weakenesse, and wee put the name of vertue vpon our vices. What furthermore, seemeth it not alike incredible, that one being placed in greatest torments, should say, I am blessed? But this voice is heard in the ve∣rie shoppe of pleasure: I liue, saith EPICVRVS, this most blessed and last day: when on the one side difficultie of making water tormented him, and on the other side an incurable dolour of an exulcerated belly tormented him. Why therefore are these things incredible with them, who embrace vertue: sith al∣so they are found amongst them, ouer whom pleasure ruleth? These dege∣nerate also and of a most base minde say, that a wise-man shall not be misera∣ble, nor blessed, in greatest dolours, in greatest calamities. But this also is incre∣dible, yea more incredible. For I see not, how vertue being cast from her owne height, how it may not bee driuen into the lowest. It eyther ought to make blessed; or if it be driuen from this, it shall not forbid to be made wret∣ched. He that standeth cannot be ouercome: it is requisite that eyther hee be ouercomne, or ouercome. Both vertue and blessed life befalleth to the immor∣tall gods alone: a certain shadow and similitude of those good things be vnto vs. We come to those things, we attaine them not. But reason is common to gods and men: this is consummated in them, it is consummable in vs. But our vices draw vs to despaire. For that other second man, as one scarce constant to keepe

the best things, whose iudgement as yet slideth and is uncertaine, desireth the sense of the eyes and of the eares, good health, and no ill-fauoured aspect of the body, and abiding in his fashion, and furthermore, a longer space of life. By this he may bee busied in things not to bee repented of, according as an vnperfect man may. There is a certaine force in this badnesse, whereby it maketh the minde prone to bad things: he worketh wanting badnesse, and that working is different from that which is good. As yet he is not good, but is fashioned for good: but whosoeuer wanteth any good thing, is bad.

If present vertue and a minde In any man thou shalt forth finde;

He matcheth the gods, he striueth thither being mindefull of his originall. No man doth wickedly endeuour to ascend thither, whence he had descended. But what is it, why thou esteemest not, that there is some diuine thing in him, who is a part of God? All this wherein we are contained, both is one thing, and is God: and we are the fellowes and the members of him. Our minde is capable; it is carried thither, if vices presse it not downe. As the shape of our bodies is lifted vp, and looketh towards heauen: so the soule, to which so much as it will, it is lawfull to be stretched forth, is fashioned for this by nature, to will things equall to the gods, and so to vse her strength, and to extend her selfe into her owne space. For if it endeuoured to the highest by force of another, it were great labour, to goe into heauen: it returneth, when it hath gon this iourney, it goeth boldly, and is a contemner of all things, neither hath it respect to mony: gold and siluer are most worthy of that darkenesse wherein they haue lien, it esteemeth not this glittering, wherewith they strike the eyes of the vnskilfull: it knoweth that they be digged out of the mud, from the which our couetous∣nesse hath separated and digged them vp. It knoweth, I say, that riches are seated some where else, then where they are heaped vp; the minde, not the chest ought to be filled. One may set this ouer the rule of all things, one may bring this into the possession of nature, as being his owne. Let the East and We••t be his limit, and let him possesse all things after the manner of the gods; let him from aboue despise rich men with their riches: of whom none is so ioy∣full in his owne, as sorrowfull at another mans. When he hath lifted vp him∣selfe into this loftinesse, he is also not a louer, but a manager of the bodie, as of a necessarie burthen: neither subiecteth he himselfe to that, ouer which hee is set. No man is free who serueth the bodie: for to passe by other masters, whom too great care for it hath found forth, the command of it is austere and delicate. Sometime it departeth from this with an vpright minde, sometime it breaketh from it with a great minde; neither seeketh it what end there shall be afterwards to the remainders thereof. But as wee neglect the haires tha•• be shauen from the beard; so that diuine minde being to depart out of a man, iudgeth that it no more pertaineth to himselfe, how his receptacle be bestowed, whether the fire burne it vp, or the beasts pluck it asunder, or the earth couer it, no more then the secondines pertaine to an infant new borne. Whether when it is cast out, the birds carry it asunder, or it be consumed.

When cast it is away To Sea-dogges for a pray,

What is it to him? Who then also whilest he is amongst men, feareth no threats:

shall he after death feare any threats of them, whom we scarce ought to feare vntill death? The hooke, saith he, shall not teare me, nor the rending of my dead carcasse cast out to reproach, although loathsome to them that shall look on. I request no man for a last duetie: I commend my reliques to no man. Na∣ture it selfe hath prouided that no man should be vnburied. Whom crueltie hath cast forth, the day shall burie. Mecaenas saith eloquently:

I care not for a Tombe or any Graue, To bury my remaines Nature will craue.

Thou wouldest haue thought that one girded like a man had spoken it: for he had both a great and a manly wit, except he himselfe effeminately had mana∣ged it.