Letter 41

You are doing an excellent thing, and one that will be good for you, if, as you write, you are persevering in your advance toward soundness of mind—which it is foolish to pray for, when you can obtain it from yourself. We need not lift our hands to heaven, nor beg the temple-keeper to admit us to the ear of the cult-statue, as though we could be better heard that way: the god is near you, he is with you, he is within you. This is what I mean, Lucilius: a sacred spirit dwells within us, the observer and guardian of our evils and our goods; and just as he is handled by us, so he himself handles us. Indeed, no man is good without god: can anyone rise above Fortune unless aided by him? It is he who gives counsels lofty and noble. In each of the good men [...the verse breaks off here; the line that followed told that a god dwells, though which god is uncertain]. If you should come upon a dense grove of ancient trees that have outgrown their usual height, screening off the sight of the sky with the thick interweaving of branches sheltering one another, that great loftiness of the forest, the seclusion of the place, and your wonder at shade so deep and unbroken out in the open will convince you that a divinity is present. If some cave, with its rocks eaten away deep within, holds up a mountain—not made by hand, but hollowed out into such vastness by natural causes—it will strike your mind with a kind of religious awe. We venerate the sources of great rivers; the sudden bursting forth of a mighty stream from a hidden place has its altars; springs of warm water are worshipped, and certain pools have been made sacred by their darkness or their measureless depth. If you should see a man unterrified by dangers, untouched by desires, happy amid adversity, calm in the midst of storms, looking down on men from a higher vantage and viewing the gods as his equals, will not reverence for him come over you? Will you not say, "This thing is greater and loftier than to be believed like the little body in which it resides"? A divine power has come down into that man; a heavenly might stirs that mind—excellent, self-controlled, passing through all things as if they were trifles, laughing at whatever we fear and whatever we long for. So great a thing cannot stand without the support of a divinity; therefore in its greater part it is there, in the place from which it descended. Just as the rays of the sun do indeed touch the earth, yet are still there in the source from which they are sent, so a mind that is great and sacred, and sent down to this place that we might know divine things more closely, does indeed keep company with us, yet clings to its origin: from there it hangs, toward there it gazes and strives, and it takes part in our affairs as something superior to them. What, then, is this mind? One that shines with no good but its own. For what is more foolish than to praise in a man what belongs to another? What more deranged than to admire things that can at once be handed over to someone else? Golden bridles do not make a horse better. A lion is let loose in one way with its mane gilded, when it has been handled and, exhausted, forced into enduring the ornament, and in another way when untamed, its spirit intact: this one, of course, fierce in its onset, just as nature willed it to be, splendid in its very wildness—whose beauty it is that it cannot be looked upon without fear—is preferred to that listless, gold-leafed one. No one ought to glory except in what is his own. We praise a vine if it loads its shoots with fruit, if by the very weight of what it has borne it bends down to the ground the props that support it: would anyone prefer to this vine one on which golden grapes and golden leaves hang? Fertility is the virtue proper to a vine; in a man too what should be praised is what is his own. He has a handsome household and a beautiful house, he sows much, he lends much at interest: none of these is in the man himself, but around him. Praise in him what can neither be snatched away nor given, what is the proper possession of a man. You ask what that is? The mind, and reason brought to perfection within the mind. For man is a rational animal; therefore his good is consummated if he has fulfilled that for which he is born. And what is it that this reason demands of him? The easiest thing of all—to live according to his own nature. But the common madness makes this difficult: we shove one another into vices. And how can those be called back to soundness whom no one holds back, and the crowd drives onward? Farewell.

You are doing an excellent thing, one which will be wholesome for you, if, as you write me, you are persisting in your effort to attain sound understanding; it is foolish to pray for this when you can acquire it from yourself. We do not need to uplift our hands towards heaven, or to beg the keeper of a temple to let us approach his idol’s ear, as if in this way our prayers were more likely to be heard. God is near you, he is with you, he is within you. This is what I mean, Lucilius: a holy spirit indwells within us, one who marks our good and bad deeds, and is our guardian. As we treat this spirit, so are we treated by it. Indeed, no man can be good without the help of God. Can one rise superior to fortune unless God helps him to rise? He it is that gives noble and upright counsel. In each good man A god doth dwell, but what god know we not. If ever you have come upon a grove that is full of ancient trees which have grown to an unusual height, shutting out a view of the sky by a veil of pleached and intertwining branches, then the loftiness of the forest, the seclusion of the spot, and your marvel at the thick unbroken shade in the midst of the open spaces, will prove to you the presence of deity. Or if a cave, made by the deep crumbling of the rocks, holds up a mountain on its arch, a place not built with hands but hollowed out into such spaciousness by natural causes, your soul will be deeply moved by a certain intimation of the existence of God. We worship the sources of mighty rivers; we erect altars at places where great streams burst suddenly from hidden sources; we adore springs of hot water as divine, and consecrate certain pools because of their dark waters or their immeasurable depth. If you see a man who is unterrified in the midst of dangers, untouched by desires, happy in adversity, peaceful amid the storm, who looks down upon men from a higher plane, and views the gods on a footing of equality, will not a feeling of reverence for him steal over you? Will you not say: “This quality is too great and too lofty to be regarded as resembling this petty body in which it dwells? A divine power has descended upon that man.” When a soul rises superior to other souls, when it is under control, when it passes through every experience as if it were of small account, when it smiles at our fears and at our prayers, it is stirred by a force from heaven. A thing like this cannot stand upright unless it be propped by the divine. Therefore, a greater part of it abides in that place from whence it came down to earth. Just as the rays of the sun do indeed touch the earth, but still abide at the source from which they are sent; even so the great and hallowed soul, which has come down in order that we may have a nearer knowledge of divinity, does indeed associate with us, but still cleaves to its origin; on that source it depends, thither it turns its gaze and strives to go, and it concerns itself with our doings only as a being superior to ourselves. What, then, is such a soul? One which is resplendent with no external good, but only with its own. For what is more foolish than to praise in a man the qualities which come from without? And what is more insane than to marvel at characteristics which may at the next instant be passed on to someone else? A golden bit does not make a better horse. The lion with gilded mane, in process of being trained and forced by weariness to endure the decoration, is sent into the arena in quite a different way from the wild lion whose spirit is unbroken; the latter, indeed, bold in his attack, as nature wished him to be, impressive because of his wild appearance,—and it is his glory that none can look upon him without fear,—is favoured in preference to the other lion, that languid and gilded brute. No man ought to glory except in that which is his own. We praise a vine if it makes the shoots teem with increase, if by its weight it bends to the ground the very poles which hold its fruit; would any man prefer to this vine one from which golden grapes and golden leaves hang down? In a vine the virtue peculiarly its own is fertility; in man also we should praise that which is his own. Suppose that he has a retinue of comely slaves and a beautiful house, that his farm is large and large his income; none of these things is in the man himself; they are all on the outside. Praise the quality in him which cannot be given or snatched away, that which is the peculiar property of the man. Do you ask what this is? It is soul, and reason brought to perfection in the soul. For man is a reasoning animal. Therefore, man’s highest good is attained, if he has fulfilled the good for which nature designed him at birth. And what is it which this reason demands of him? The easiest thing in the world,—to live in accordance with his own nature. But this is turned into a hard task by the general madness of mankind; we push one another into vice. And how can a man be recalled to salvation, when he has none to restrain him, and all mankind to urge him on? Farewell.

[1] Facis rem optimam et tibi salutarem si, ut scribis, perseveras ire ad bonam mentem, quam stultum est optare cum possis a te impetrare. Non sunt ad caelum elevandae manus nec exorandus aedituus ut nos ad aurem simulacri, quasi magis exaudiri possimus, admittat: prope est a te deus, tecum est, intus est. [2] Ita dico, Lucili: sacer intra nos spiritus sedet, malorum bonorumque nostrorum observator et custos; hic prout a nobis tractatus est, ita nos ipse tractat. Bonus vero vir sine deo nemo est: an potest aliquis supra fortunam nisi ab illo adiutus exsurgere? Ille dat consilia magnifica et erecta. In unoquoque virorum bonorum [3] Si tibi occurrerit vetustis arboribus et solitam altitudinem egressis frequens lucus et conspectum caeli <densitate> ramorum aliorum alios protegentium summovens, illa proceritas silvae et secretum loci et admiratio umbrae in aperto tam densae atque continuae fidem tibi numinis faciet. Si quis specus saxis penitus exesis montem suspenderit, non manu factus, sed naturalibus causis in tantam laxitatem excavatus, animum tuum quadam religionis suspicione percutiet. Magnorum fluminum capita veneramur; subita ex abdito vasti amnis eruptio aras habet; coluntur aquarum calentium fontes, et stagna quaedam vel opacitas vel immensa altitudo sacravit. [4] Si hominem videris interritum periculis, intactum cupiditatibus, inter adversa felicem, in mediis tempestatibus placidum, ex superiore loco homines videntem, ex aequo deos, non subibit te veneratio eius? non dices, 'ista res maior est altiorque quam ut credi similis huic in quo est corpusculo possit'? [5] Vis isto divina descendit; animum excellentem, moderatum, omnia tamquam minora transeuntem, quidquid timemus optamusque ridentem, caelestis potentia agitat. Non potest res tanta sine adminiculo numinis stare; itaque maiore sui parte illic est unde descendit. Quemadmodum radii solis contingunt quidem terram sed ibi sunt unde mittuntur, sic animus magnus ac sacer et in hoc demissus, ut propius [quidem] divina nossemus, conversatur quidem nobiscum sed haeret origini suae; illinc pendet, illuc spectat ac nititur, nostris tamquam melior interest. [6] Quis est ergo hic animus? qui nullo bono nisi suo nitet. Quid enim est stultius quam in homine aliena laudare? quid eo dementius qui ea miratur quae ad alium transferri protinus possunt? Non faciunt meliorem equum aurei freni. Aliter leo aurata iuba mittitur, dum contractatur et ad patientiam recipiendi ornamenti cogitur fatigatus, aliter incultus, integri spiritus: hic scilicet impetu acer, qualem illum natura esse voluit, speciosus ex horrido, cuius hic decor est, non sine timore aspici, praefertur illi languido et bratteato. [7] Nemo gloriari nisi suo debet. Vitem laudamus si fructu palmites onerat, si ipsa pondere [ad terram] eorum quae tulit adminicula deducit: num quis huic illam praeferret vitem cui aureae uvae, aurea folia dependent? Propria virtus est in vite fertilitas; in homine quoque id laudandum est quod ipsius est. Familiam formonsam habet et domum pulchram, multum serit, multum fenerat: nihil horum in ipso est sed circa ipsum. [8] Lauda in illo quod nec eripi potest nec dari, quod proprium hominis est. Quaeris quid sit? animus et ratio in animo perfecta. Rationale enim animal est homo; consummatur itaque bonum eius, si id implevit cui nascitur. Quid est autem quod ab illo ratio haec exigat? rem facillimam, secundum naturam suam vivere. Sed hanc difficilem facit communis insania: in vitia alter alterum trudimus. Quomodo autem revocari ad salutem possunt quos nemo retinet, populus impellit? Vale. Seneca the YoungerThe Latin Library The Classics Page