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.

Of the remedies of casualties.

ALthough thou art fully possessed with all the flo∣wers of Poesie, yet debated ••nd resolued I with my selfe at length to dedicate this little worke vnto thee•• concerning casuall remedies, which the precedent times speake not of, posteritie shall re∣spect. From whence therefore shall w•• first take our beginning? If thou thinkest it fit from death, What, from the last? Yea, from the greatest. Hereat mankinde doth most especially tremble; neyther without cause in thy iudgement do they so. All other feares leaue some place after th••m, death cutteth off all things. Other things torment vs, but death deuoureth all things. The issue of al that which we feare and are affrighted at, after they haue long time followed vs and attended vs, haue their period in this: yea, euen those who thinke they feare nothing, yet notwithstanding are affraid of death. All o∣ther things which we feare may finde some redresse or solace. So therefore form and conforme thy selfe, that if any man threaten thee openly with death, thou mayest delude all his threats and slight feares.

Thou shalt die: this is mans nature, and not his punishment•• Thou shal•• die: vpon this condition entered I the world, that I must leaue it. Thou shal•• die•• it is the law of Nations to restore that which thou hast borrowed. Thou shalt die•• life is but a pilgrimage, when thou hast trauailed long ••hou must re∣turne home. Thou shalt die: I thought thou wouldest tell me some newes; to this end I came into the world•• this I doe, euery day conducteth me thereunto. Nature when I was borne forthwith prefixed me this limit: why should I be displeased herewith? I am sworne to obey her. Thou shalt die: it is a foolish thing to feare that which thou canst not auoyde•• He escapeth not death that deferreth it. Thou shalt die: neyther the first nor the last; many haue gone before me, and all shall follow me. Thou shalt die: this is the end of all that I ought to doe; what olde man would not be glad to be exempted from seruice? Whither the world passeth thither shall I passe. To this end are all things created. That which began must haue an end. Thou shalt die: nothing is grieuous that happeneth once. I know that I must pay that which I owe. I haue contracted with a creditor that will not loose his debt. Thou shalt die: there can be no better newes, or more happie threat to mortall men.

But th••u shalt be beheaded•• what care I whether I die by the stroake, or by the stab? But thou shalt haue many stroakes, and thou shalt see diuers swords

vnsheathed against thee. What matters it how many the wounds be•• there can no more but one be mortall.

Thou shalt die in a strange countrie. The way to death is in euery place. I am readie to pay that which I owe. Let the creditor ••e•• to it•• where he will ar∣rest me. Thou shalt die in a strange countrie. There ••s no ••arth that is ••trange to him that dieth. Thou shalt die in a strange countrie. Sleepe is no more grie∣uous abroad then it is at home. Thou shalt die in a strange countrie. This is to returne into a mans countr••e without prouision.

But thou shalt die yong. It is the best that may befall a man to die before h•• wisheth it. This is the only thing that concerneth the yong, as well as the old. We are neither cited according to our reuenewes or yeares. The same necessity of destiny constraineth both yong and old. It is best for a man to die, when he hath a desire to liue. Thou shalt die yong. Whosoeuer commeth to the last period of his destinie, di••th old. For it skilleth not what the age of man is, but what his terme is. Thou shalt die yong. It may be that Fortune retireth mee from some great mishap, and if from nought else, at leastwise from old age. Thou shalt die yong. It skilleth not how many yeares I haue, but how many I haue receiued. If I cannot liue longer, this is mine old age.

Thou shalt lie vnburied. What other thing shall I answere thee, but that of Virgils.

Slight is the losse of sepulture.

If I feele nothing, I need not care whether my bodie be burned or no, and if I be sensible, euery sepulture is a torment.

Heauen couers him that hath no pointed tombe.

What matters it whether fire or wilde beasts consume me, or the earth which is the sepulture of all things? This to him that hath no sense, is nothing, and to him that hath feeling a burthen. Thou shalt bee vnburied. But thou shalt bee burned, but then drowned, but then imprisoned, and locked in a tombe, but thou shalt rot, and be embowelled and sowed vp, or cast into the hollow of a stone, which shall consume and drie thee by little and little. There is no sepul∣ture, we are not buried, but cast out. Thou shalt not be buried. Why art thou afraid amiddest thy most securitie. This place is out of feare and danger. We are indebted much vnto life, to death nothing. Sepulture was not inuented for the dead sake, but for the liuing, to the end that our bodies, which in sight and smell are most loathsome, should be hidden from our eyes: some the earth o∣uerwhelmeth, some the flame consumeth, some are shut vp in stone, that will returne nothing but bones. We spare not the dead, but our owne eyes.

I am sicke. The time is now come wherein I must make proofe of my ver∣tue. A confident man not onely discouereth himselfe vpon the sea, and in the battell, but vertue approueth her selfe euen in the bed. I am sicke. This can∣not continue for an age. Either I shall leaue mine Ague, or mine Ague will leaue me. We cannot be alwayes together. The question is betwixt me and sicknesse, and either he shall be conquered, or I ouercome.

Men speake euill of thee. But euill men. It would moue me, if Marcus Ca∣to, if Lelius the wise-man: if the other Cato, if the two Scipioes spake these thing••. In this time it is a matter praise-worthie to displease the wicked. That sentence can haue no authoritie, where hee that is condemned doth condemne. Men

speake euill of thee•• It would moue m••, if they did it vpo•• iudgement, but now they do•• it vpon infirmitie. They sp••ak•• not of me, but of them••elues. Men sp••ake euill of thee, they doe it therefore because they canno•• speake well. Not because I deserue it•• but because they are accustomed vnto it. For there are some dogs of that nature•• that they barke rather vpon custome then cur••••nesse.

Thou shalt be banished: thou art d••••ciued when I haue done all that I may, I cannot passe out of my coun••rey. All men haue one countrey, and out of this no man may wander. Thou shalt be banished, I am no•• fo••bidden my coun∣trey, but the place. Into whatsoeuer countrey I come, I come into mine owne. I can be banished into no place, for it is my countrey. Thou shalt not be in thy countrey. That is my countrey wheresoeuer I liue well. But to liue well is in the man, and not in the place: In his power it i•• what his fortune shall be. For if he be wise, he trauell••th; if a foole, he is banished. Thou shalt be banished: thou sayest thus. Thou shalt be a citizen in another Citie.

Sorrow is at hand; if it be slight, let vs endure it, patience is an easie thing to support. If it be grieuous, the glorie is the greater. Let paine extort cries, so h•• expresse not secrets. A man cannot resist paine, neithe•• paine reason. Paine is a tedious thing, nay rathe•• thou art effeminate. Few men could endure paine. Let vs be one of the few. We are weake by nature. Def••me not Nature, she crea∣ted vs strong and valiant. Let vs flie paine. And why? Knowest thou not that he followeth those that flie from him?

Pouertie is grieuous vnto me, nay, thou vnto pouertie. The error is not in pouertie, but in the poore man. S••ee is readie, ioyfull, and assured. I am poore. I in opinion, but not in truth. Thou art poore, because thou thinkest thy selfe so. I am poore. The birds want nothing. Tame beastes liue their time, wilde beasts find food in their solitude.

I am not powerfull, be glad, thou shalt not be impotent. I may receiue an in∣iurie. Be glad, thou canst not doe any. He hath great store of money. Iudgest thou him to be a man, it is hi•• meanes? Who enuieth a treasurie or full coffers. And this man, whom thou supposest to be master of this money, is but the bag that shutteth it vp. He hath much. Whether i•• he couetous or prodigall: if co∣uetous, he hath nothing: if prodigall, he shall haue nothing. This man, whom thou supposest to be happie, is often sad, doth often sigh. Many accompany him. Flies follow after hony; Wolues after carion; Ants after wheate. This troope followeth their prey, and not the man. I haue lost my money. It may be it would haue lost thee. I haue lost my money, but thou hadest it. I haue lost my money. Thou shalt be no more in so great danger. I haue lost my money. how happie art thou, if thou hast lost thy couetousnesse with the same. But if shee remaine with thee, yet art thou happie in some sort, because thou hast nei∣ther wood nor oyle to cast into so horrible a fire. I haue lost my money. And thy money hath lost and spoiled an infinite number of men. Thou shalt be now more light to walke on thy way, and more assured in thy house. Thou shalt neither haue nor feare an heire. Fortune hath disburthened thee, if thou con∣ceiue••t the same, and setled thee in a more secure place. Thinkest thou it to be thy wrong? It is thy remedie. Thou weepest, thou wailest, thou criest, as if thou wert vndone, because thy riches haue beene taken from thee. It is thine owne fault that this losse doth torment and touch thee so neere. If thou hadst possessed them as things that might perish, thou wouldest not torment thy selfe thus. I haue lost my money, another had lost it before, to the end thou shouldest haue it.

I haue lost my sight. Night and obscuritie hath her pleasures. I haue lost my sight. From how many desires art thou exempted? How many things shalt thou want, which rather then thou shouldest see•• thou thy selfe wouldest pluck out thine eyes. Knewest thou not that bodily blindnes is a part of innocence? The eye discouereth vnto one man and adultery, to another incest, to this man a house which he desireth, to that man a towne; in briefe all sorts of mischiefes. Vndoubtedly, the eyes are the stinge of vices, and the guides of wickednesse.

I haue lost my children. Thou art a foole to bewaile the death of those that are mortall. Is this a nou••lti••, or a thing to be wondered at? Is there any house exempt from this accident? Callest thou a tree miserable, whose fruit falleth to the ground whilest his branches mount aloft. Thy child is thy fruit. No man is exempt from these•• stroakes, vntimely funerall•• are led as well out of the Arti∣••icers shop, as the Kings Pallace. Destinie and age haue not the same order. A man departeth not out of the world in the same sort as he entered. But why art thou vexed? What hath happened contrarie to thy hope. Those that ought to die are dead. Yet could I haue wished that they might haue liued. But no man promised thee thus much. My children are dead. They had them who had greater right vnto them then thou? They were onely lent thee. Fortune left thee them to bring them vp, shee hath retained them, and hath taken away no∣thing but her owne.

I haue suffered shipwracke. Bethinke thee not what thou hast lost, but what thou hast escaped. I came naked to the shoare•• But thou gottest to land. I haue lost all: but thou mightest haue beene drowned with the rest.

I fell into the hands of theeues. But another man hath met with detractors, another with theeues, another with coseners•• The way is full of dangers. Com∣plain not thou that thou hast met with them, rather reioice that thou art whole and in safetie. I haue grieuous enemies. Euen as thou seekest out meanes to de∣fence thy selfe against the furie of sauage beasts, and the venome of serpents•• so see thou fortifie thy selfe with some succours against thine enemies, by meanes whereof thou mayest repulse them or represse them, or which is more assured and better, make thy selfe gracious in their eyes.

I haue lost a friend. It is true then that thou hadst one. I haue lost a friend. Seeke out another in some part where thou mayest finde him. Seeke amongst the Liberall Sciences, amongst those occupations that are iust and honest, in the shops of Artificers. This treasure is not sought out at the table. Seeke out some one that cares not for good cheere, but is frugall. I haue lost my friend. Show thy selfe to be a braue fellow, if thou hast but lost one, blush; if an only friend: why trustedst thou to one anchor in so great a tempest.

I haue lost a good wife. Didst thou finde her good, or make her good? If thou foundest her by chance, thou mayest hope to light vpon the like. If thou madest her good, hope well: the patterne is lost, but the craftesmaster is liuing. I haue lost a good wife. What allowedst thou in her? Her chastitie? How many wo∣men are there foūd, that hauing maintained their honor a long time, haue lost it at last? Was it her modesty: how many haue bin numbred in the ranke of most honest matrons, that afterwards were scoulds and railers? Wert thou delighted in her loyaltie? How many of the best wiues haue we seene proue noughts, of the most diligent, the most dissolute. The minds of all vnskilfull persons, espe∣cially women, is subiect to inconstancy. If thou hadst a good wife, thou couldest not maintaine that she would alwayes remaine in that estate. There is not any thing so inconstant and vnassured as the will of women. We know the diuorces

of ancient matrimonies, and the brawles of married couples, more hatefull then diuorces. How many are there that hauing affectionately loued their wiues in their youth, haue forsaken them in their age? How oftentimes haue we laughed at the diuorces of old and married folkes? How manies noted loue, hath beene changed into more notable hatred? But this was both good, and would haue continued good had she liued. Death is the cause that thou mayest bold∣ly maintaine this. I haue lost a good wife, if thou seekest none but a good wife, thou shalt finde her. Prouided that thou studie not about the antiquitie of her race, nor on her worldly possession, which men prise now adaies more then No∣bilitie. Bewtie annexed to these, will make head-long time against thee, but thou shalt not haue so much labour to gouerne a mind that is puffed vp with any va∣nitie. A woman that is too proud of her selfe, will make small reckoning of her husband. Marrie with a maid, or that is well brought vp, and not tainted with her mothers vices. A maid that beareth not her fathers and mothers be∣quest at her cares, that is, not loaden with Rings and Iewels, nor cloathed in such apparell, as cost more then she brought vnto her marriage. Nor that causeth her selfe to be drawne in her Coach thorow the Citie, and to behold the people as boldly, and on both sides, as would her husband. Nor such an one for whom thine house will seeme too little to containe her cariage and equipage: Thou shalt worke that mayden according to thy minde, which hath not as yet beene corrupted by those dissolutions that are in request. I haue lost a vertuous wife. Art thou not ashamed to weepe, and to call thy losse intollerable? But wel, thou must know this, if thou bewailest thy wife or no. In remembring thy selfe that thou art a husband, remember also that thou art a man. I haue lost a good wife. A man cannot recouer a good mother or a good sister, but a woman is an acces∣sarie good, and is not reckoned amongst those which euery one cannot meete with but once in his life time. I haue lost a good wife. I can name thee many men, that hauing bewailed a good wife, haue met a second farre better then the first.

Death, banishment, paines, sorrowes, are no punishments, but tributes which we must pay vnto this life. Destinie sendeth no man out of this world, without giuing him some stroake. Happie is he that esteemeth himselfe such, and not he who is esteemed such by others. But consider that this happines is rare in this world. It hath neere vnto it mise∣rie, and borroweth something of it.