Letter 89

[1] You ask for something useful, and necessary for one hurrying toward wisdom: that philosophy be divided, and its vast body arranged into its members. For we are led more easily to a knowledge of the whole through its parts. I only wish that, just as the entire face of the universe comes into our view, so philosophy in its totality could present itself to us, a spectacle most like the universe! For surely it would carry off all mortals into admiration of itself, once they abandoned those things which we now, in our great ignorance of what is great, believe to be great. But since this cannot happen, philosophy must be looked upon by us in the same way the secrets of the universe are observed. [2] The mind of the wise man, to be sure, embraces its whole mass and traverses it no less swiftly than our gaze sweeps the sky; but to us, who must break through the fog and whose sight fails at what lies near, single things one by one can more easily be displayed, since we are not yet capable of the whole. I shall therefore do what you demand, and divide philosophy into parts, not into fragments. For it is useful that it be divided, not chopped up; for it is difficult to grasp the smallest things, just as it is the greatest. [3] The people is distributed into tribes, the army into centuries; whatever has grown larger is more easily recognized if it has been separated into parts, which, as I said, ought not to be innumerable and tiny. For excessive division has the same fault as no division at all: whatever has been cut up all the way down to dust is like something undivided and confused. [4] First, therefore, if it seems good to you, I shall say what difference there is between wisdom and philosophy. Wisdom is the perfect good of the human mind; philosophy is the love of wisdom and the striving after it: the latter aims at the point the former has reached. Why philosophy is so called is evident; for by its very name it confesses what it loves. [5] Some have so defined wisdom as to say that it is the knowledge of things divine and human; some thus: wisdom is to know things divine and human, and the causes of these. This addition seems superfluous to me, because the causes of things divine and human are themselves a part of things divine. There have also been those who defined philosophy in one way and another: some said it was the pursuit of virtue, others the pursuit of correcting the mind; by some it has been called the appetite for right reason. [6] This much was, as it were, settled: that there is some difference between philosophy and wisdom; for it cannot be that what is striven after and what does the striving should be the same. Just as there is much difference between avarice and money, since the one desires and the other is desired, so it is between philosophy and wisdom. For the latter is the effect and the reward of the former; the former comes, the latter is the destination one goes toward. [7] Wisdom is what the Greeks call sophia. The Romans too used to employ this word, just as they now also use philosophia; and the old plays in the toga [the fabulae togatae, native Roman comedies] will prove this to you, as will the inscription written on the monument of Dossennus. [8] Certain of our school, although philosophy was the pursuit of virtue, and the latter was sought while the former did the seeking, nevertheless did not think that the two could be pulled apart; for there is no philosophy without virtue, nor virtue without philosophy. Philosophy is the pursuit of virtue, but by means of virtue itself; and virtue cannot exist without the pursuit of itself, nor the pursuit of virtue without virtue itself. For it is not as with those who try to strike something from a distant spot, where the one who aims is in one place and what is aimed at in another; nor is it as with the roads that lead to cities, which lie outside the cities, so that the paths to virtue would lie outside virtue itself: one comes to virtue through virtue itself, and philosophy and virtue cohere with one another. [9] The greatest and the most numerous authorities have said that philosophy has three parts: moral, natural, and rational. The first orders the mind; the second examines the nature of things; the third weighs the properties of words, their structure, and arguments, lest falsehoods creep in for the truth. Yet there have also been found those who divided philosophy into fewer parts, and those who divided it into more. [10] Certain of the Peripatetics added a fourth part, the civil, because it requires a particular sort of practice and is occupied with a different subject matter; some added to these the part they call oikonomike, the science of managing household affairs; some set apart a separate topic concerning the kinds of life. None of these, however, will fail to be found within that moral part. [11] The Epicureans thought philosophy had two parts, the natural and the moral: they removed the rational. Then, when they were compelled by the facts themselves to separate ambiguities and to expose falsehoods lurking under the appearance of truth, they too introduced the topic they call "on judgment and the standard" [the canonic, their theory of knowledge] — under another name, the rational — but they reckon it to be an appendage of the natural part. [12] The Cyrenaics did away with the natural along with the rational, and were content with the moral; but these too bring in by another route what they remove; for they divide moral philosophy into five parts, so that one is about things to be shunned and sought, the second about the passions, the third about actions, the fourth about causes, the fifth about proofs. Now the causes of things belong to the natural part, the proofs to the rational. [13] Aristo of Chios said that the natural and the rational were not only superfluous but even contrary to one another; and the moral part too, which he alone had left, he pared down. For he removed the topic that contains admonitions, and said it belonged to the schoolmaster, not the philosopher — as though the wise man were anything other than the schoolmaster of the human race. [14] Therefore, since philosophy is threefold, let us begin first to arrange its moral part. It was agreed that this should again be divided into three, so that the first would be the examination that assigns to each thing its own and estimates how much each is worth, the most useful of all — for what is so necessary as to set prices upon things? — the second concerning impulse, the third concerning actions. For the first is to judge how much each thing is worth, the second to take up toward those things an impulse that is ordered and tempered, the third that there be agreement between your impulse and your action, so that in all these you may be consistent with yourself. [15] Whatever is lacking of the three throws the rest into disorder. For what good is it to have all things appraised against one another, if you are excessive in impulse? What good is it to have checked impulse and to have your desires in your own power, if in the very performance of things you are ignorant of the right moments, and do not know when and where and how each thing ought to be done? For it is one thing to know the worth and the prices of things, another to know the right junctures, another to rein in impulses and to advance to what must be done, not to rush. Life, then, is in agreement with itself when action does not abandon impulse, and impulse is conceived from the worth of each thing, accordingly slacker or keener as the thing is worthy of being sought. [16] The natural part of philosophy is split into two, the corporeal and the incorporeal; each is divided into its own, so to speak, grades. The topic of bodies is divided first into these: into the things that act and the things that are produced from them — and what are produced are the elements. The topic of the elements itself, as some think, is simple; as others think, it is divided into matter and the cause that moves all things and the elements. [17] It remains for me to divide the rational part of philosophy. All discourse is either continuous, or divided up between the one answering and the one questioning; it was agreed to call the latter dialectic, the former rhetoric. Rhetoric attends to words and meanings and arrangement; dialectic is divided into two parts, into words and significations, that is, into the things that are said and the terms by which they are said. Then a vast division of each follows. And so at this point I shall make an end, and otherwise, if I wished to make parts of the parts, the letter would become a book of disputations. [18] I do not discourage you, Lucilius, best of men, from reading these things, provided that whatever you read you at once apply to conduct. Restrain your conduct; rouse what is languishing in you, bind fast what is loose, tame what is stubborn, harass your own desires and those of the public as much as you can; and to those who say "How long the same things?" answer: [19] "I ought rather to say, 'How long will you keep committing the same sins?' Do you want the remedies to stop before the vices do? I shall speak of them all the more, and because you refuse I shall persevere; medicine begins to do good when its touch draws out pain in a numbed body. I shall say things that will profit even the unwilling. Let some word that is not flattering come to you at times, and since as individuals you are unwilling to hear the truth, hear it in public. [20] "'How far will you extend the boundaries of your estates? Is a field that once held a whole people too cramped for a single owner? How far will you stretch out your plowlands, not content even with the expanse of provinces to mark the limit of your domains? The courses of famous rivers run through private property, and great streams, the boundaries of great nations, are yours from source all the way to mouth. And this too is too little, unless you have girdled the seas with your latifundia [vast landed estates], unless across the Adriatic and the Ionian and the Aegean your bailiff holds sway, unless islands, the dwellings of great commanders, are counted among the cheapest of things. Possess as widely as you wish, let your farm be what was once called an empire, make whatever you can your own, so long as more belongs to someone else. [21] "'Now I speak with you whose luxury spreads itself out just as broadly as the avarice of those others. To you I say: how long will there be no lake over which the gables of your villas do not loom? no river whose banks your buildings do not border? Wherever veins of hot waters gush forth, there new lodgings of luxury will be raised. Wherever the shore curves into some bay, you will at once lay your foundations, and not content with any ground except what you have made by hand, you will drive the sea inland. Though your roofs gleam in every place, here set upon mountains for a vast prospect of lands and sea, there raised up from the plain to the height of mountains, even when you have built many things, and huge things, you are nevertheless each but single bodies, and tiny ones. What good are many bedchambers to you? You lie in one. No place is yours where you yourselves are not. [22] "'Next I pass to you whose deep and insatiable gullet ransacks now the seas, now the lands, pursuing some prey with hooks, some with snares, some with various kinds of nets, with great labor: no animals have peace except through your loathing. How tiny a portion of those feasts, procured by so many hands, do you sip with a mouth wearied by pleasures? How tiny a portion of that beast, captured at peril, does the master, raw-stomached and nauseated, taste? How tiny a portion of all those shellfish, brought from so far, slips down that insatiable belly? Wretches, do you not at all understand that you have a greater hunger than belly?' [23] Say these things to others, so that as you say them you yourself may hear; write them, so that as you write you may read, referring everything to conduct and to the calming of the madness of the passions. Study, not so that you may know something more, but so that you may know it better. Farewell.

It is a useful fact that you wish to know, one which is essential to him who hastens after wisdom—namely, the parts of philosophy and the division of its huge bulk into separate members. For by studying the parts we can be brought more easily to understand the whole. I only wish that philosophy might come before our eyes in all her unity, just as the whole expanse of the firmament is spread out for us to gaze upon! It would be a sight closely resembling that of the firmament. For then surely philosophy would ravish all mortals with love for her; we should abandon all those things which, in our ignorance of what is great, we believe to be great. Inasmuch, however, as this cannot fall to our lot, we must view philosophy just as men gaze upon the secrets of the firmament. The wise man’s mind, to be sure, embraces the whole framework of philosophy, surveying it with no less rapid glance than our mortal eyes survey the heavens; we, however, who must break through the gloom, we whose vision fails even for that which is near at hand, can be shown with greater ease each separate object even though we cannot yet comprehend the universe. I shall therefore comply with your demand, and shall divide philosophy into parts, but not into scraps. For it is useful that philosophy should be divided, but not chopped into bits. Just as it is hard to take in what is indefinitely large, so it is hard to take in what is indefinitely small. The people are divided into tribes, the army into centuries. Whatever has grown to greater size is more easily identified if it is broken up into parts; but the parts, as I have remarked, must not be countless in number and diminutive in size. For over-analysis is faulty in precisely the same way as no analysis at all; whatever you cut so fine that it becomes dust is as good as blended into a mass again. In the first place, therefore, if you approve, I shall draw the distinction between wisdom and philosophy. Wisdom is the perfect good of the human mind; philosophy is the love of wisdom, and the endeavour to attain it. The latter strives toward the goal which the former has already reached. And it is clear why philosophy was so called. For it acknowledges by its very name the object of its love. Certain persons have defined wisdom as the knowledge of things divine and things human. Still others say: “Wisdom is knowing things divine and things human, and their causes also.” This added phrase seems to me to be superfluous, since the causes of things divine and things human are a part of the divine system. Philosophy also has been defined in various ways; some have called it “the study of virtue,” others have referred to it as “a study of the way to amend the mind,” and some have named it “the search for right reason.” One thing is practically settled, that there is some difference between philosophy and wisdom. Nor indeed is it possible that that which is sought and that which seeks are identical. As there is a great difference between avarice and wealth, the one being the subject of the craving and the other its object, so between philosophy and wisdom. For the one is a result and a reward of the other. Philosophy does the going, and wisdom is the goal. Wisdom is that which the Greeks call σοφία. The Romans also were wont to use this word in the sense in which they now use “philosophy” also. This will be proved to your satisfaction by our old national plays, as well as by the epitaph that is carved on the tomb of Dossennus: Pause, stranger, and read the wisdom of Dossennus. Certain of our school, however, although philosophy meant to them “the study of virtue,” and though virtue was the object sought and philosophy the seeker, have maintained nevertheless that the two cannot be sundered. For philosophy cannot exist without virtue, nor virtue without philosophy. Philosophy is the study of virtue, by means, however, of virtue itself; but neither can virtue exist without the study of itself, nor can the study of virtue exist without virtue itself. For it is not like trying to hit a target at long range, where the shooter and the object to be shot at are in different places. Nor, as roads which lead into a city, are the approaches to virtue situated outside virtue herself; the path by which one reaches virtue leads by way of virtue herself; philosophy and virtue cling closely together. The greatest authors, and the greatest number of authors, have maintained that there are three divisions of philosophy—moral, natural, and rational. The first keeps the soul in order; the second investigates the universe; the third works out the essential meanings of words, their combinations, and the proofs which keep falsehood from creeping in and displacing truth. But there have also been those who divided philosophy on the one hand into fewer divisions, on the other hand into more. Certain of the Peripatetic school have added a fourth division, “civil philosophy,” because it calls for a special sphere of activity and is interested in a different subject matter. Some have added a department for which they use the Greek term “economics,” the science of managing one’s own household. Still others have made a distinct heading for the various kinds of life. There is no one of these subdivisions, however, which will not be found under the branch called “moral” philosophy. The Epicureans held that philosophy was twofold, natural and moral; they did away with the rational branch. Then, when they were compelled by the facts themselves to distinguish between equivocal ideas and to expose fallacies that lay hidden under the cloak of truth, they themselves also introduced a heading to which they give the name “forensic and regulative,” which is merely “rational” under another name, although they hold that this section is accessory to the department of “natural” philosophy. The Cyrenaic school abolished the natural as well as the rational department, and were content with the moral side alone; and yet these philosophers also include under another title that which they have rejected. For they divide moral philosophy into five parts: (1) What to avoid and what to seek, (2) The Passions, (3) Actions, (4) Causes, (5) Proofs. Now the causes of things really belong to the “natural” division, the proofs to the “rational.” Aristo of Chios remarked that the natural and the rational were not only superfluous, but were also contradictory. He even limited the “moral,” which was all that was left to him; for he abolished that heading which embraced advice, maintaining that it was the business of the pedagogue, and not of the philosopher—as if the wise man were anything else than the pedagogue of the human race! Since, therefore, philosophy is threefold, let us first begin to set in order the moral side. It has been agreed that this should be divided into three parts. First, we have the speculative part, which assigns to each thing its particular function and weighs the worth of each; it is highest in point of utility. For what is so indispensable as giving to everything its proper value? The second has to do with impulse, the third with actions. For the first duty is to determine severally what things are worth; the second, to conceive with regard to them a regulated and ordered impulse; the third, to make your impulse and your actions harmonize, so that under all these conditions you may be consistent with yourself. If any of these three be defective, there is confusion in the rest also. For what benefit is there in having all things appraised, each in its proper relations, if you go to excess in your impulses? What benefit is there in having checked your impulses and in having your desires in your own control, if when you come to action you are unaware of the proper times and seasons, and if you do not know when, where, and how each action should be carried out? It is one thing to understand the merits and the values of facts, another thing to know the precise moment for action, and still another to curb impulses and to proceed, instead of rushing, toward what is to be done. Hence life is in harmony with itself only when action has not deserted impulse, and when impulse toward an object arises in each case from the worth of the object, being languid or more eager as the case may be, according as the objects which arouse it are worth seeking. The natural side of philosophy is twofold: bodily and non-bodily. Each is divided into its own grades of importance, so to speak. The topic concerning bodies deals, first, with these two grades: the creative and the created; and the created things are the elements. Now this very topic of the elements, as some writers hold, is integral; as others hold, it is divided into matter, the cause which moves all things, and the elements. It remains for me to divide rational philosophy into its parts. Now all speech is either continuous, or split up between questioner and answerer. It has been agreed upon that the former should be called rhetoric, and the latter dialectic. Rhetoric deals with words, and meanings, and arrangement. Dialectic is divided into two parts: words and their meanings, that is, into things which are said, and the words in which they are said. Then comes a subdivision of each—and it is of vast extent. Therefore I shall stop at this point, and But treat the climax of the story; for if I should take a fancy to give the subdivisions, my letter would become a debater’s handbook! I am not trying to discourage you, excellent Lucilius, from reading on this subject, provided only that you promptly relate to conduct all that you have read. It is your conduct that you must hold in check; you must rouse what is languid in you, bind fast what has become relaxed, conquer what is obstinate, persecute your appetites, and the appetites of mankind, as much as you can; and to those who say: “How long will this unending talk go on?” answer with the words: “I ought to be asking you ‘How long will these unending sins of yours go on?’” Do you really desire my remedies to stop before your vices? But I shall speak of my remedies all the more, and just because you offer objections I shall keep on talking. Medicine begins to do good at the time when a touch makes the diseased body tingle with pain. I shall utter words that will help men even against their will. At times you should allow words other than compliments to reach your ears, and because as individuals you are unwilling to hear the truth, hear it collectively. How far will you extend the boundaries of your estates? An estate which held a nation is too narrow for a single lord. How far will you push forward your ploughed fields—you who are not content to confine the measure of your farms even within the amplitude of provinces? You have noble rivers flowing down through your private grounds; you have mighty streams—boundaries of mighty nations—under your dominion from source to outlet. This also is too little for you unless you also surround whole seas with your estates, unless your steward holds sway on the other side of the Adriatic, the Ionian, and the Aegean seas, unless the islands, homes of famous chieftains, are reckoned by you as the most paltry of possessions! Spread them as widely as you will, if only you may have as a “farm” what was once called a kingdom; make whatever you can your own, provided only that it is more than your neighbour’s! And now for a word with you, whose luxury spreads itself out as widely as the greed of those to whom I have just referred. To you I say: “Will this custom continue until there is no lake over which the pinnacles of your country-houses do not tower? Until there is no river whose banks are not bordered by your lordly structures? Wherever hot waters shall gush forth in rills, there you will be causing new resorts of luxury to rise. Wherever the shore shall bend into a bay, there will you straightway be laying foundations, and, not content with any land that has not been made by art, you will bring the sea within your boundaries. On every side let your house-tops flash in the sun, now set on mountain peaks where they command an extensive outlook over sea and land, now lifted from the plain to the height of mountains; build your manifold structures, your huge piles,—you are nevertheless but individuals, and puny ones at that! What profit to you are your many bed-chambers? You sleep in one. No place is yours where you yourselves are not.” “Next I pass to you, you whose bottomless and insatiable maw explores on the one hand the seas, on the other the earth, with enormous toil hunting down your prey, now with hook, now with snare, now with nets of various kinds; no animal has peace except when you are cloyed with it. And how slight a portion of those banquets of yours, prepared for you by so many hands, do you taste with your pleasure-jaded palate! How slight a portion of all that game, whose taking was fraught with danger, does the master’s sick and squeamish stomach relish? How slight a portion of all those shell-fish, imported from so far, slips down that insatiable gullet? Poor wretches, do you not know that your appetites are bigger than your bellies?” Talk in this way to other men,—provided that while you talk you also listen; write in this way,—provided that while you write you read, remembering that everything you hear or read, is to be applied to conduct, and to the alleviation of passion’s fury. Study, not in order to add anything to your knowledge, but to make your knowledge better. Farewell.

[1] Rem utilem desideras et ad sapientiam properanti necessariam, dividi philosophiam et ingens corpus eius in membra disponi; facilius enim per partes in cognitionem totius adducimur. Utinam quidem quemadmodum universa mundi facies in conspectum venit, ita philosophia tota nobis posset occurrere, simillimum mundo spectaculum! Profecto enim omnes mortales in admirationem sui raperet, relictis iis quae nunc magna magnorum ignorantia credimus. Sed quia contingere hoc non potest, est sic nobis aspicienda quemadmodum mundi secreta cernuntur. [2] Sapientis quidem animus totam molem eius amplectitur nec minus illam velociter obit quam caelum acies nostra; nobis autem, quibus perrumpenda caligo est et quorum visus in proximo deficit, singula quaeque ostendi facilius possunt, universi nondum capacibus. Faciam ergo quod exigis et philosophiam in partes, non in frusta dividam. Dividi enim illam, non concidi, utile est; nam conprehendere quemadmodum maxima ita minima difficile est. [3] Discribitur in tribus populus, in centurias exercitus; quidquid in maius crevit facilius agnoscitur si discessit in partes, quas, ut dixi, innumerabiles esse et parvulas non oportet. Idem enim vitii habet nimia quod nulla divisio: simile confuso est quidquid usque in pulverem sectum est. [4] Primum itaque, si [ut] videtur tibi, dicam inter sapientiam et philosophiam quid intersit. Sapientia perfectum bonum est mentis humanae; philosophia sapientiae amor est et adfectatio: haec eo tendit quo illa pervenit. Philosophia unde dicta sit apparet; ipso enim nomine fatetur quid amet. [5] Sapientiam quidam ita finierunt ut dicerent divinorum et humanorum scientiam; quidam ita: sapientia est nosse divina et humana et horum causas. Supervacua mihi haec videtur adiectio, quia causae divinorum humanorumque pars divinorum sunt. Philosophiam quoque fuerunt qui aliter atque aliter finirent: alii studium illam virtutis esse dixerunt, alii studium corrigendae mentis; a quibusdam dicta est adpetitio rectae rationis. [6] Illud quasi constitit, aliquid inter philosophiam et sapientiam interesse; neque enim fieri potest ut idem sit quod adfectatur et quod adfectat. Quomodo multum inter avaritiam et pecuniam interest, cum illa cupiat, haec concupiscatur, sic inter philosophiam et sapientiam. Haec enim illius effectus ac praemium est; illa venit, ad hanc itur. [7] Sapientia est quam Graeci sophian vocant. Hoc verbo Romani quoque utebantur, sicut philosophia nunc quoque utuntur; quod et togatae tibi antiquae probabunt et inscriptus Dossenni monumento titulus: [8] Quidam ex nostris, quamvis philosophia studium virtutis esset et haec peteretur, illa peteret, tamen non putaverunt illas distrahi posse; nam nec philosophia sine virtute est nec sine philosophia virtus. Philosophia studium virtutis est, sed per ipsam virtutem; nec virtus autem esse sine studio sui potest nec virtutis studium sine ipsa. Non enim quemadmodum in iis qui aliquid ex distanti loco ferire conantur alibi est qui petit, alibi quod petitur; nec quemadmodum itinera quae ad urbes perducunt <extra urbes sunt, sic viae ad virtutem> extra ipsam: ad virtutem venitur per ipsam, cohaerent inter se philosophia virtusque. [9] Philosophiae tres partes esse dixerunt et maximi et plurimi auctores: moralem, naturalem, rationalem. Prima componit animum; secunda rerum naturam scrutatur; tertia proprietates verborum exigit et structuram et argumentationes, ne pro vero falsa subrepant. Ceterum inventi sunt et qui in pauciora philosophiam et qui in plura diducerent. [10] Quidam ex Peripateticis quartam partem adiecerunt civilem, quia propriam quandam exercitationem desideret et circa aliam materiam occupata sit; quidam adiecerunt his partem quam oikonomiken vocant, administrandae familiaris rei scientiam; quidam et de generibus vitae locum separaverunt. Nihil autem horum non in illa parte morali reperietur. [11] Epicurei duas partes philosophiae putaverunt esse, naturalem atque moralem: rationalem removerunt. Deinde cum ipsis rebus cogerentur ambigua secernere, falsa sub specie veri latentia coarguere, ipsi quoque locum quem 'de iudicio et regula' appellant — alio nomine rationalem — induxerunt, sed eum accessionem esse naturalis partis existimant. [12] Cyrenaici naturalia cum rationalibus sustulerunt et contenti fuerunt moralibus, sed hi quoque quae removent aliter inducunt; in quinque enim partes moralia dividunt, ut una sit de fugiendis et petendis, altera de adfectibus, tertia de actionibus, quarta de causis, quinta de argumentis. Causae rerum ex naturali parte sunt, argumenta ex rationali. [13] Ariston Chius non tantum supervacuas esse dixit naturalem et rationalem sed etiam contrarias; moralem quoque, quam solam reliquerat, circumcidit. Nam eum locum qui monitiones continet sustulit et paedagogi esse dixit, non philosophi, tamquam quidquam aliud sit sapiens quam generis humani paedagogus. [14] Ergo cum tripertita sit philosophia, moralem eius partem primum incipiamus disponere. Quam in tria rursus dividi placuit, ut prima esset inspectio suum cuique distribuens et aestimans quanto quidque dignum sit, maxime utilis — quid enim est tam necessarium quam pretia rebus inponere? — secunda de impetu, de actionibus tertia. Primum enim est ut quanti quidque sit iudices, secundum ut impetum ad illa capias ordinatum temperatumque, tertium ut inter impetum tuum actionemque conveniat, ut in omnibus istis tibi ipse consentias. [15] Quidquid ex tribus defuit turbat et cetera. Quid enim prodest inter <se> aestimata habere omnia, si sis in impetu nimius? quid prodest impetus repressisse et habere cupiditates in sua potestate, si in ipsa rerum actione tempora ignores nec scias quando quidque et ubi et quemadmodum agi debeat? Aliud est enim dignitates et pretia rerum nosse, aliud articulos, aliud impetus refrenare et ad agenda ire, non ruere. Tunc ergo vita concors sibi est ubi actio non destituit impetum, impetus ex dignitate rei cuiusque concipitur, proinde remissus <aut> acrior prout illa digna est peti. [16] Naturalis pars philosophiae in duo scinditur, corporalia et incorporalia; utraque dividuntur in suos, ut ita dicam, gradus. Corporum locus in hos primum, in ea quae faciunt et quae ex his gignuntur — gignuntur autem elementa. Ipse <de> elementis locus, ut quidam putant, simplex est, ut quidam, in materiam et causam omnia moventem et elementa dividitur. [17] Superest ut rationalem partem philosophiae dividam. Omnis oratio aut continua est aut inter respondentem et interrogantem discissa; hanc dialektiken, illam rhetoriken placuit vocari. Rhetorike verba curat et sensus et ordinem; dialektike in duas partes dividitur, in verba et significationes, id est in res quae dicuntur et vocabula quibus dicuntur. Ingens deinde sequitur utriusque divisio. Itaque hoc loco finem faciam et alioqui, si voluero facere partium partes, quaestionum liber fiet. [18] Haec, Lucili virorum optime, quominus legas non deterreo, dummodo quidquid legeris ad mores statim referas. Illos conpesce, marcentia in te excita, soluta constringe, contumacia doma, cupiditates tuas publicasque quantum potes vexa; et istis dicentibus 'quousque eadem?' responde: [19] 'Ego debebam dicere "quousque eadem peccabitis?" Remedia ante vultis quam vitia desinere? Ego vero eo magis dicam, et quia recusatis perseverabo; tunc incipit medicina proficere ubi in corpore alienato dolorem tactus expressit. Dicam etiam invitis profutura. Aliquando aliqua ad vos non blanda vox veniat, et quia verum singuli audire non vultis, publice audite. [20] 'Quousque fines possessionum propagabitis? Ager uni domino qui populum cepit angustus est? Quousque arationes vestras porrigetis, ne provinciarum quidem spatio contenti circumscribere praediorum modum? Inlustrium fluminum per privatum decursus est et amnes magni magnarumque gentium termini usque ad ostium a fonte vestri sunt. Hoc quoque parum est nisi latifundiis vestris maria cinxistis, nisi trans Hadriam et Ionium Aegaeumque vester vilicus regnat, nisi insulae, ducum domicilia magnorum, inter vilissima rerum numerantur. Quam vultis late possidete, sit fundus quod aliquando imperium vocabatur, facite vestrum quidquid potestis, dum plus sit alieni. [21] 'Nunc vobiscum loquor quorum aeque spatiose luxuria quam illorum avaritia diffunditur. Vobis dico: quousque nullus erit lacus cui non villarum vestrarum fastigia inmineant? nullum flumen cuius non ripas aedificia vestra praetexant? Ubicumque scatebunt aquarum calentium venae, ibi nova deversoria luxuriae excitabuntur. Ubicumque in aliquem sinum litus curvabitur, vos protinus fundamenta iacietis, nec contenti solo nisi quod manu feceritis, mare agetis introrsus. Omnibus licet locis tecta vestra resplendeant, aliubi inposita montibus in vastum terrarum marisque prospectum, aliubi ex plano in altitudinem montium educta, cum multa aedificaveritis, cum ingentia, tamen et singula corpora estis et parvola. Quid prosunt multa cubicula? in uno iacetis. Non est vestrum ubicumque non estis. [22] 'Ad vos deinde transeo quorum profunda et insatiabilis gula hinc maria scrutatur, hinc terras, alia hamis, alia laqueis, alia retium variis generibus cum magno labore persequitur: nullis animalibus nisi ex fastidio pax est. Quantulum [est] ex istis epulis [quae] per tot comparatis manus fesso voluptatibus ore libatis? quantulum ex ista fera periculose capta dominus crudus ac nauseans gustat? quantulum ex tot conchyliis tam longe advectis per istum stomachum inexplebilem labitur? Infelices, ecquid intellegitis maiorem vos famem habere quam ventrem?' [23] Haec aliis dic, ut dum dicis audias ipse, scribe, ut dum scribis legas, omnia ad mores et ad sedandam rabiem adfectuum referens. Stude, non ut plus aliquid scias, sed ut melius. Vale.