Lucius Annaeus Seneca→Lucilius Junior|c. 64 AD|Seneca the Younger|From Southern Italy (regional)|To Sicily (regional)|AI-assisted
[1] I would rather you did not keep changing your location and leaping from one place to another. My first reason is that such frequent moving is the mark of an unsettled mind: it cannot grow firm through retirement unless it stops looking about and wandering. If you want to keep your mind under control, first put an end to the flight of your body.
[2] Next, remedies do the most good when they are continuous: your tranquility, and the forgetting of your former life, must not be broken off. Let your eyes unlearn their old habits, let your ears grow accustomed to more wholesome words. Every time you go abroad, in the very act of traveling you will run into things that will revive your old cravings.
[3] Just as a man trying to shed a love affair must shun every reminder of the body he cherished—for nothing flares up again more easily than love—so too the man who wants to lay aside his longing for all the things he once burned to possess must turn both eyes and ears away from what he has left behind.
[4] Passion is quick to rebel. Wherever it turns, it will catch sight of some present reward for its activity. No vice is without its bribe: avarice promises money, luxury many and varied pleasures, ambition the purple and applause, and from this power, and whatever power can do.
[5] The vices solicit you with a wage; here you must live for nothing. Scarcely in a whole lifetime can vices, swollen by such long license, be brought to heel and made to take the yoke—still less if we cut up so brief a span with interruptions. Constant watchfulness and concentration can barely bring even a single undertaking to completion.
[6] If you will indeed listen to me, ponder and practice this: that you may both welcome death and, if circumstances so advise, summon it. It makes no difference whether death comes to us or we go to it. Convince yourself that the saying of every most ignorant man is false—'It is a fine thing to die one's own death.' No one dies except his own death. Besides this, you may reflect on this thought: no one dies except on his own day. You are losing nothing of your own time; for what you leave behind belongs to another. Farewell.
I do not like you to change your headquarters and scurry about from one place to another. My reasons are,—first, that such frequent flitting means an unsteady spirit. And the spirit cannot through retirement grow into unity unless it has ceased from its inquisitiveness and its wanderings. To be able to hold your spirit in check, you must first stop the runaway flight of the body. My second reason is, that the remedies which are most helpful are those which are not interrupted. You should not allow your quiet, or the oblivion to which you have consigned your former life, to be broken into. Give your eyes time to unlearn what they have seen, and your ears to grow accustomed to more wholesome words. Whenever you stir abroad you will meet, even as you pass from one place to another, things that will bring back your old cravings. Just as he who tries to be rid of an old love must avoid every reminder of the person once held dear (for nothing grows again so easily as love), similarly, he who would lay aside his desire for all the things which he used to crave so passionately, must turn away both eyes and ears from the objects which he has abandoned. The emotions soon return to the attack; at every turn they will notice before their eyes an object worth their attention. There is no evil that does not offer inducements. Avarice promises money; luxury, a varied assortment of pleasures; ambition, a purple robe and applause, and the influence which results from applause, and all that influence can do. Vices tempt you by the rewards which they offer; but in the life of which I speak, you must live without being paid. Scarcely will a whole life-time suffice to bring our vices into subjection and to make them accept the yoke, swollen as they are by long-continued indulgence; and still less, if we cut into our brief span by any interruptions. Even constant care and attention can scarcely bring any one undertaking to full completion. If you will give ear to my advice, ponder and practise this,—how to welcome death, or even, if circumstances commend that course, to invite it. There is no difference whether death comes to us, or whether we go to death. Make yourself believe that all ignorant men are wrong when they say: “It is a beautiful thing to die one’s own death.” But there is no man who does not die his own death. What is more, you may reflect on this thought: No one dies except on his own day. You are throwing away none of your own time; for what you leave behind does not belong to you. Farewell.
[1] Mutare te loca et aliunde alio transilire nolo, primum quia tam frequens migratio instabilis animi est: coalescere otio non potest nisi desit circumspicere et errare. Ut animum possis continere, primum corporis tui fugam siste. [2] Deinde plurimum remedia continuata proficiunt: interrumpenda non est quies et vitae prioris oblivio; sine dediscere oculos tuos, sine aures assuescere sanioribus verbis. Quotiens processeris, in ipso transitu aliqua quae renovent cupiditates tuas tibi occurrent. [3] Quemadmodum ei qui amorem exuere conatur evitanda est omnis admonitio dilecti corporis - nihil enim facilius quam amor recrudescit -, ita qui deponere vult desideria rerum omnium quarum cupiditate flagravit et oculos et aures ab iis quae reliquit avertat. [4] Cito rebellat affectus. Quocumque se verterit, pretium aliquod praesens occupationis suae aspiciet. Nullum sine auctoramento malum est: avaritia pecuniam promittit, luxuria multas ac varias voluptates, ambitio purpuram et plausum et ex hoc potentiam et quidquid <potest> potentia. [5] Mercede te vitia sollicitant: hic tibi gratis vivendum est. Vix effici toto saeculo potest ut vitia tam longa licentia tumida subigantur et iugum accipiant, nedum si tam breve tempus intervallis discindimus; unam quamlibet rem vix ad perfectum perducit assidua vigilia et intentio. [6] Si me quidem velis audire, hoc meditare et exerce, ut mortem et excipias et, si ita res suadebit, accersas: interest nihil, illa ad nos veniat an ad illam nos. Illud imperitissimi cuiusque verbum falsum esse tibi ipse persuade: 'bella res est mori sua morte'. Nemo moritur nisi sua morte. Illud praeterea tecum licet cogites: nemo nisi suo die moritur. Nihil perdis ex tuo tempore; nam quod relinquis alienum est. Vale.
Seneca the YoungerThe Latin Library The Classics Page
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[1] I would rather you did not keep changing your location and leaping from one place to another. My first reason is that such frequent moving is the mark of an unsettled mind: it cannot grow firm through retirement unless it stops looking about and wandering. If you want to keep your mind under control, first put an end to the flight of your body.
[2] Next, remedies do the most good when they are continuous: your tranquility, and the forgetting of your former life, must not be broken off. Let your eyes unlearn their old habits, let your ears grow accustomed to more wholesome words. Every time you go abroad, in the very act of traveling you will run into things that will revive your old cravings.
[3] Just as a man trying to shed a love affair must shun every reminder of the body he cherished—for nothing flares up again more easily than love—so too the man who wants to lay aside his longing for all the things he once burned to possess must turn both eyes and ears away from what he has left behind.
[4] Passion is quick to rebel. Wherever it turns, it will catch sight of some present reward for its activity. No vice is without its bribe: avarice promises money, luxury many and varied pleasures, ambition the purple and applause, and from this power, and whatever power can do.
[5] The vices solicit you with a wage; here you must live for nothing. Scarcely in a whole lifetime can vices, swollen by such long license, be brought to heel and made to take the yoke—still less if we cut up so brief a span with interruptions. Constant watchfulness and concentration can barely bring even a single undertaking to completion.
[6] If you will indeed listen to me, ponder and practice this: that you may both welcome death and, if circumstances so advise, summon it. It makes no difference whether death comes to us or we go to it. Convince yourself that the saying of every most ignorant man is false—'It is a fine thing to die one's own death.' No one dies except his own death. Besides this, you may reflect on this thought: no one dies except on his own day. You are losing nothing of your own time; for what you leave behind belongs to another. Farewell.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
[1] Mutare te loca et aliunde alio transilire nolo, primum quia tam frequens migratio instabilis animi est: coalescere otio non potest nisi desit circumspicere et errare. Ut animum possis continere, primum corporis tui fugam siste. [2] Deinde plurimum remedia continuata proficiunt: interrumpenda non est quies et vitae prioris oblivio; sine dediscere oculos tuos, sine aures assuescere sanioribus verbis. Quotiens processeris, in ipso transitu aliqua quae renovent cupiditates tuas tibi occurrent. [3] Quemadmodum ei qui amorem exuere conatur evitanda est omnis admonitio dilecti corporis - nihil enim facilius quam amor recrudescit -, ita qui deponere vult desideria rerum omnium quarum cupiditate flagravit et oculos et aures ab iis quae reliquit avertat. [4] Cito rebellat affectus. Quocumque se verterit, pretium aliquod praesens occupationis suae aspiciet. Nullum sine auctoramento malum est: avaritia pecuniam promittit, luxuria multas ac varias voluptates, ambitio purpuram et plausum et ex hoc potentiam et quidquid <potest> potentia. [5] Mercede te vitia sollicitant: hic tibi gratis vivendum est. Vix effici toto saeculo potest ut vitia tam longa licentia tumida subigantur et iugum accipiant, nedum si tam breve tempus intervallis discindimus; unam quamlibet rem vix ad perfectum perducit assidua vigilia et intentio. [6] Si me quidem velis audire, hoc meditare et exerce, ut mortem et excipias et, si ita res suadebit, accersas: interest nihil, illa ad nos veniat an ad illam nos. Illud imperitissimi cuiusque verbum falsum esse tibi ipse persuade: 'bella res est mori sua morte'. Nemo moritur nisi sua morte. Illud praeterea tecum licet cogites: nemo nisi suo die moritur. Nihil perdis ex tuo tempore; nam quod relinquis alienum est. Vale.
Seneca the YoungerThe Latin Library The Classics Page