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General LettersPart III
Part III
XXI
To Priscus
As I know you eagerly embrace every opportunity of obliging me, so there
is no man whom I had rather be under an obligation to. I apply to you,
therefore, in preference to anyone else, for a favour which I am extremely
desirous of obtaining. You, who are commander-in-chief of a very
considerable army, have many opportunities of exercising your generosity; and
the length of time you have enjoyed that post must have enabled you to provide
for all your own friends. I hope you will now turn your eyes upon some of
mine: as indeed they are but a few. Your generous disposition, I know, would
be better pleased if the number were greater, but one or two will suffice my
modest desires; at present I will only mention Voconius Romanus. His father
was of great distinction among the Roman knights, and his father-in-law,
or, I might more properly call him, his second father (for his affectionate
treatment of Voconius entitles him to that appellation), was still more
conspicuous. His mother was one of the most considerable ladies of Upper
Spain: you know what character the people of that province bear, and how
remarkable they are for their strictness of their manners. As for himself, he
lately held the post of flamen.^1 Now, from the time when we were first
students together, I have felt very tenderly attached to him. We lived under
the same roof, in town and country, we joked together, we shared each other`s
serious thoughts: for where indeed could I have found a truer friend or
pleasanter companion than he? In his conversation, and even in his very voice
and countenance, there is a rare sweetness; as at the bar he displays talents
of a high order; acuteness, elegance, ease, and skill: and he writes such
letters too that were you to read them you would imagine they had been
dictated by the Muses themselves. I have a very great affection for him, as he
has for me. Even in the earlier part of our lives, I warmly embraced every
opportunity of doing him all the good services which then lay in my power, as
I have lately obtained for him from our most gracious prince^2 the privilege^3
granted to those who have three children: a favour which, though Caesar very
rarely bestows, and always with great caution, yet he conferred, at my
request, in such a manner as to give it the air and grace of being his own
choice. The best way of showing that I think he deserves the kindnesses he has
already received from me is by increasing them, especially as he always
accepts my services so gratefully as to deserve more. Thus I have shown you
what manner of man Romanus is, how thoroughly I have proved his worth, and how
much I love him. Let me entreat you to honour him with your patronage in a way
suitable to the generosity of your heart, and the eminence of your station.
But above all let him have your affection; for though you were to confer upon
him the utmost you have in your power to bestow, you can give him nothing more
valuable than your friendship. That you may see he is worthy of it, even to
the closest degree of intimacy, I send you this brief sketch of his tastes,
character, his whole life, in fact. I should continue my intercessions in his
behalf, but that I know you prefer not being pressed, and I have already
repeated them in every line of this letter: for to show a good reason for what
one asks is true intercession, and of the most effectual kind. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: "Any Roman priest devoted to the service of one particular god
was designated Flamen, receiving a distinguishing epithet from the deity to
whom he ministered. The office was understood to last for life; but a flamen
might be compelled to resign for a breach of duty, or even on account of the
occurrence of an ill-omened accident while discharging his functions." Smith`s
Dictionary of Antiquities.]
[Footnote 2: Trajan.]
[Footnote 3: By a law passed A.U. 762, it was enacted that every citizen of
Rome who had three children should be excused from all troublesome offices
where he lived. This privilege the emperors sometimes extended to those who
were not legally entitled to it.]
XXII
To Maximus
You guessed correctly: I am much engaged in pleading before the Hundred.
The business there is more fatiguing than pleasant. Trifling, inconsiderable
cases, mostly; it is very seldom that anything worth speaking of, either from
the importance of the question or the rank of the persons concerned, comes
before them. There are very few lawyers either whom I take any pleasure in
working with. The rest, a parcel of impudent young fellows, many of whom one
knows nothing whatever about, come here to get some practice in speaking, and
conduct themselves so forwardly and with such utter want of deference that my
friend Attilius exactly hit it, I think, when he made the observation that
"boys set out at the bar with cases in the Court of the Hundred as they do at
school with Homer," intimating that at both places they begin where they
should end. But in former times (so my elders tell me) no youth, even of the
best families, was allowed in unless introduced by some person of consular
dignity. As things are now, since every fence of modesty and decorum is broken
down, and all distinctions are levelled and confounded, the present young
generation, so far from waiting to be introduced, break in of their own free
will. The audience at their heels are fit attendants upon such orators; a low
rabble of hired mercenaries, supplied by contract. They get together in the
middle of the court, where the dole is dealt round to them as openly as if
they were in a dining-room: and at this noble price they run from court to
court. The Greeks have an appropriate name in their language for this sort of
people, importing that they are applauders by profession, and we stigmatize
them with the opprobrious title of table-flatterers: yet the dirty business
alluded to increases every day. It was only yesterday two of my domestic
officers, mere striplings, were hired to cheer somebody or other, at three
denarii apiece:^1 this is what the highest eloquence goes for. Upon these
terms we fill as many benches as we please, and gather a crowd: this is how
those rending shouts are raised, as soon as the individual standing up in the
middle of the ring gives the signal. For, you must know, these honest fellows,
who understand nothing of what is said, or, if they did, could not hear it,
would be at a loss without a signal, how to time their applause: for many of
them don`t hear a syllable, and are as noisy as any of the rest. If, at any
time, you should happen to be passing by when the court is sitting, and feel
at all interested to know how any speaker is acquitting himself, you have no
occasion to give yourself the trouble of getting up on the judge`s platform,
no need to listen; it is easy enough to find out, for you may be quite sure he
that gets most applause deserves it the least. Largius Licinus was the first
to introduce this fashion; but then he went no farther than to go round and
solicit an audience. I know, I remember hearing this from my tutor
Quinctilian. "I used," he told me, "to go and hear Domitius Afer, and as he
was pleading once before the Hundred in his usual slow and impressive manner,
hearing, close to him, a most immoderate and unusual noise, and being a good
deal surprised at this, he left off: the noise ceased, and he began again: he
was interrupted a second time, and a third. At last he enquired who it was
that was speaking? He was told, Licinus. Upon which, he broke off the case,
exclaiming, "Eloquence is no more!`" The truth is it had only begun to decline
then, when in Afer`s opinion it no longer existed: whereas now it is almost
extinct. I am ashamed to tell you of the mincing and affected pronunciation of
the speakers, and of the shrill-voiced applause with which their effusions
are received; nothing seems wanting to complete this singsong performance
except claps, or rather cymbals and tambourines. Howlings indeed (for I can
call such applause, which would be indecent even in the theatre, by no other
name) abound in plenty. Up to this time the interest of my friends and the
consideration of my early time of life have kept me in this court, as I am
afraid they might think I was doing it to shirk work rather than to avoid
these indecencies, were I to leave it just yet: however, I go there less
frequently than I did, and am thus effecting a gradual retreat. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: About 54 cents.]
XXIII
To Gallus
You are surprised that I am so fond of my Laurentine, or (if you prefer
the name) my Laurens: but you will cease to wonder when I acquaint you with
the beauty of the villa, the advantages of its situation, and the extensive
view of the sea-coast. It is only seventeen miles from Rome; so that when I
have finished my business in town, I can pass my evenings here after a good,
satisfactory day`s work. There are two different roads to it: if you go by
that of Laurentum, you must turn off at the fourteenth milestone; if by Astia,
at the eleventh. Both of them are sandy in places, which makes it a little
heavier and longer by carriage, but short and easy on horseback. The landscape
affords plenty of variety, the view in some places being closed in by woods,
in others extending over broad meadows, where numerous flocks of sheep and
herds of cattle, which the severity of the winter has driven from the
mountains, fatten in the spring warmth, and on the rich pasturage. My villa is
of a convenient size without being expensive to keep up. The courtyard in
front is plain, but not mean, through which you enter porticoes shaped into
the form of the letter D, enclosing a small but cheerful area between. These
make a capital retreat for bad weather, not only as they are shut in with
windows, but particularly as they are sheltered by a projection of the roof.
From the middle of these porticoes you pass into a bright, pleasant inner
court, and out of that into a handsome hall running out towards the seashore;
so that when there is a southwest breeze, it is gently washed with the waves,
which spend themselves at its base. On every side of this hall there are
either folding doors or windows equally large, by which means you have a view
from the front and the two sides of three different seas, as it were: from the
back you see the middle court, the portico, akd the area; and from another
point you look through the portico into the courtyard, and out upon the woods
and distant mountains beyond. On the left hand of this hall, a little farther
from the sea, lies a large drawing-room, and beyond that, a second of a
smaller size, which has one window to the rising and another to the setting
sun: this as well has a view of the sea, but more distant and agreeable. The
angle formed by the projection of the dining-room with this drawing-room
retains and intensifies the warmth of the sun, and this forms our winter
quarters and family gymnasium, which is sheltered from all the winds except
those which bring on clouds, but the clear sky comes out again before the
warmth has gone out of the place. Adjoining this angle is a room forming the
segment of a circle, the windows of which are so arranged as to get the sun
all through the day: in the walls are contrived a sort of cases, containing a
collection of authors who can never be read too often. Next to this is a
bedroom, connected with it by a raised passage furnished with pipes, which
supply, at a wholesome temperature, and distribute to all parts of this room,
the heat they receive. The rest of this side of the house is appropriated to
the use of my slaves and freedmen; but most of the rooms in it are respectable
enough to put my guests into. In the opposite wing is a most elegant,
tastefully fitted-up bedroom; next to which lies another, which you may call
either a large bedroom or a modified dining-room; it is very warm and light,
not only from the direct rays of the sun, but by their reflection from the
sea. Beyond this is a bedroom with an anteroom, the height of which renders it
cool in summer, its thick walls warm in winter, for it is sheltered, every
way, from the winds. To this apartment another anteroom is joined by one
common wall. From thence you enter into the wide and spacious cooling-room
belonging to the bath, from the opposite walls of which two curved basins are
thrown out, so to speak; which are more than large enough if you consider that
the sea is close at hand. Adjacent to this is the anointing-room, then the
sweating-room, and beyond that the bath-heating room: adjoining are two
other little bathrooms, elegantly rather than sumptuously fitted up: annexed
to them is a warm bath of wonderful construction, in which one can swim and
take a view of the sea at the same time. Not far from this stands the tennis -
court, which lies open to the warmth of the afternoon sun. From thence you go
up a sort of turret which has two rooms below, with the same number above,
besides a dining-room commanding a very extensive lookout on to the sea, the
coast, and the beautiful villas scattered along the shore line. At the other
end is a second turret, containing a room that gets the rising and setting
sun. Behind this is a large store-room and granary, and underneath, a
spacious dining-room, where only the murmur and break of the sea can be
heard, even in a storm: it looks out upon the garden, and the gestatio^1
running round the garden. The gestatio is bordered round with box, and, where
that is decayed, with rosemary: for the box, wherever sheltered by the
buildings, grows plentifully, but where it lies open and exposed to the
weather and spray from the sea, though at some distance from the latter, it
quite withers up. Next the gestatio, and running along inside it, is a shady
vine-plantation, the path of which is so soft and easy to the tread that you
may walk barefoot upon it. The garden is chiefly planted with fig and mulberry
trees, to which this soil is as favourable as it is averse from all others.
Here is a dining-room, which, though it stands away from the sea, enjoys the
garden view, which is just as pleasant: two apartments run round the back part
of it, the windows of which look out upon the entrance of the villa, and into
a fine kitchen-garden. From here extends an enclosed portico which, from its
great length, you might take for a public one. It has a range of windows on
either side, but more on the side facing the sea, and fewer on the garden
side, and these, single windows and alternate with the opposite rows. In calm,
clear weather these are all thrown open; but if it blows, those on the weather
side are closed, whilst those away from the wind can remain open without any
inconvenience. Before this enclosed portico lies a terrace fragrant with the
scent of violets, and warmed by the reflection of the sun from the portico,
which, while it retains the rays, keeps away the northeast wind; and it is as
warm on this side as it is cool on the side opposite: in the same way it is a
protection against the wind from the southwest; and thus, in short, by means
of its several sides, breaks the force of the winds, from whatever quarter
they may blow. These are some of its winter advantages; they are still more
appreciable in the summertime; for at that season it throws a shade upon the
terrace during the whole of the forenoon, and upon the adjoining portion of
the gestatio and garden in the afternoon, casting a greater or less shade on
this side or on that as the day increases or decreases. But the portico itself
is coolest just at the time when the sun is at its hottest, that is, when the
rays fall directly upon the roof. Also, by opening the windows you let in the
western breezes in a free current, which prevents the place getting oppressive
with close and stagnant air. At the upper end of the terrace and portico
stands a detached garden building, which I call my favourite; my favourite
indeed, as I put it up myself. It contains a very warm winter-room, one side
of which looks down upon the terrace, while the other has a view of the sea,
and both lie exposed to the sun. The bedroom opens on to the covered portico
by means of folding doors, while its window looks out upon the sea. On that
side next the sea, and facing the middle wall, is formed a very elegant little
recess, which, by means of transparent^2 windows and a curtain drawn to or
aside, can be made part of the adjoining room, or separated from it. It
contains a couch and two chairs: as you lie upon this couch, from where your
feet are you get a peep of the sea; looking behind, you see the neighbouring
villas, and from the head you have a view of the woods: these three views may
be seen either separately, from so many different windows, or blended together
in one. Adjoining this is a bedroom, which neither the servants` voices, the
murmuring of the sea, the glare of lightning, nor daylight itself can
penetrate, unless you open the windows. This profound tranquillity and
seclusion are occasioned by a passage separating the wall of this room from
that of the garden, and thus, by means of this intervening space, every noise
is drowned. Annexed to this is a tiny stove-room, which, by opening or
shutting a little aperture, lets out or retains the heat from underneath,
according as you require. Beyond this lie a bedroom and anteroom, which enjoy
the sun, though obliquely indeed, from the time it rises till the afternoon.
When I retire to this garden summer-house, I fancy myself a hundred miles
away from my villa, and take especial pleasure in it at the feast of the
Saturnalia,^3 when, by the licence of that festive season, every other part of
my house resounds with my servants` mirth: thus I neither interrupt their
amusement nor they my studies. Amongst the pleasures and conveniences of this
situation, there is one drawback, and that is, the want of running water; but
then there are wells about the place, or rather springs, for they lie close to
the surface. And, altogether, the quality of this coast is remarkable; for dig
where you may, you meet, upon the first turning up of the ground, with a
spring of water, quite pure, not in the least salt, although so near the sea.
The neighbouring woods supply us with all the fuel we require, the other
necessaries Ostia furnishes. Indeed, to a moderate man, even the village
(between which and my house there is only one villa) would supply all ordinary
requirements. It has three public baths, which are a great convenience if it
happen that friends come in unexpectedly, or make too short a stay to allow
time for preparing my own. The whole coast is very pleasantly sprinkled with
villas either in rows or detached, which, whether looking at them from the sea
or the shore, present the appearance of so many different cities. The strand
is, sometimes, after a long calm, perfectly smooth, though, in general,
through the storms driving the waves upon it, it is rough and uneven. I cannot
boast that our sea is plentiful in choice fish; however, it supplies us with
capital soles and prawns; but as to other kinds of provisions, my villa
aspires to excel even inland countries, particularly in milk: for the cattle
come up there from the meadows in large numbers, in pursuit of water and
shade. Tell me, now, have I not good reason for living in, staying in, loving,
such a retreat, which if you feel no appetite for, you must be morbidly
attached to town? And I only wish you would feel inclined to come down to it,
that to so many charms with which my little villa abounds, it might have the
very considerable addition of your company to recommend it. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: Avenue.]
[Footnote 2: "Windows made of a transparent stone called lapis specularis
(mica), which was first found in Hispania Citerior, and afterwards in Cyprus,
Cappadocia, Sicily, and Africa; but the best came from Spain and Cappadocia.
It was easily split into the thinnest sheets. Windows made of this stone were
called specularia." Smith`s Dictionary of Antiquities.]
[Footnote 3: A feast held in honour of the god Saturn, which began on the 19th
of December, and continued, as some say, for seven days. It was a time of
general rejoicing, particularly among the slaves, who had at this season the
privilege of taking great liberties with their masters. M.]
XXIV
To Cerealis
You advise me to read my late speech before an assemblage of my friends.
I shall do so, as you advise it, though I have strong scruples. Compositions
of this sort lose, I well know, all their force and fire, and even their very
name almost, by a mere recital. It is the solemnity of the tribunal, the
concourse of advocates, the suspense of the event, the fame of the several
pleaders concerned, the different parties formed amongst the audience; add to
this the gestures, the pacing, aye, the actual running,, to and fro, of the
speaker, the body working^1 in harmony with every inward emotion, that
conspire to give a spirit and a grace to what he delivers. This is the reason
that those who plead sitting, though they retain most of the advantages
possessed by those who stand up to plead, weaken the whole force of their
oratory. The eyes and hands of the reader, those important instruments of
graceful elocution, being engaged, it is no wonder that the attention of the
audience droops, without anything extrinsic to keep it up, no allurements of
gesture to attract, no smart, stinging impromptus to enliven. To these general
considerations I must add this particular disadvantage which attends the
speech in question, that it is of the argumentative kind; and it is natural
for an author to infer that what he wrote with labour will not be read with
pleasure. For who is there so unprejudiced as not to prefer the attractive and
sonorous to the sombre and unornamented in style? It is very unreasonable that
there should be any distinction; however, it is certain the judges generally
expect on style of pleading, and the audience another; whereas an auditor
ought to be affected only by those parts which would especially strike him,
were he in the place of the judge. Nevertheless it is possible the objections
which lie against this piece may be surmounted in consideration of the novelty
it has to recommend it: the novelty, I mean, with respect to us; for the Greek
orators have a method of reasoning upon a different occasion, not altogether
unlike that which I have employed. They, when they would throw out a law as
contrary to some former one unrepealed, argue by comparing those together; so
I, on the contrary, endeavour to prove that the crime, which I was insisting
upon as falling within the intent and meaning of the law relating to public
extortions, was agreeable, not only to that law, but likewise to other laws of
the same nature. Those who are ignorant of the jurisprudence of their country
can have no taste for reasonings of this kind, but those who are not ought to
be proportionably the more favourable in the judgments they pass upon them. I
shall endeavour, therefore, if you persist in my reciting it, to collect as
learned an audience as I can. But before you determine this point, do weigh
impartially the different considerations I have laid before you, and then
decide as reason shall direct; for it is reason that must justify you;
obedience to your commands will be a sufficient apology for me. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: Cicero and Quintilian have laid down rules how far, and in what
instances, this liberty was allowable, and both agree it ought to be used with
great sagacity and judgment. The latter of these excellent critics mentions a
witticism of Flavius Virginius, who asked one of these orators, "Quot millia
passuum declamasset?" How many miles he had declaimed. M.]
XXV
To Calvisius
Give me a penny, and I will tell you a story "worth gold," or, rather,
you shall hear two or three; for one brings to my mind another. It makes no
difference with which I begin. Verania, the widow of Piso, the Piso, I mean,
whom Galba adopted, lay extremely ill, and Regulus paid her a visit. By the
way, mark the assurance of the man, visiting a lady who detested him herself,
and to whose husband he was a declared enemy! Even barely to enter her house
would have been bad enough, but he actually went and seated himself by her
bedside and began enquiring on what day and hour she was born. Being informed
of these important particulars, he composes his countenance, fixes his eyes,
mutters something to himself, counts upon his fingers, and all this merely to
keep the poor sick lady in suspense. When he had finished, "You are," he says,
"in one of your climacterics; however, you will get over it. But for your
greater satisfaction, I will consult with a certain diviner, whose skill I
have frequently experienced." Accordingly off he goes, performs a sacrifice,
and returns with the strongest assurances that the omens confirmed what he had
promised on the part of the stars. Upon this the good woman, whose danger made
her credulous, calls for her will and gives Regulus a legacy. She grew worse
shortly after this; and in her last moments exclaimed against this wicked,
treacherous, and worse than perjured wretch, who had sworn falsely to her by
his own son`s life. But imprecations of this sort are as common with Regulus
as they are impious; and he continually devotes that unhappy youth to the
curses of those gods whose vengeance his own frauds every day provoke.
Velleius Blaesus, a man of consular rank, and remarkable for his immense
wealth, in his last illness was anxious to make some alterations in his will.
Regulus, who had lately endeavoured to insinuate himself into his good graces,
hoped to get something from the new will, and accordingly addresses himself to
his physicians, and conjures them to exert all their skill to prolong the poor
man`s life. But after the will was signed, he changes his character, reversing
his tone: "How long," says he to these very same physicians, "do you intend
keeping this man in misery? Since you cannot preserve his life, why do you
grudge him the happy release of death?" Blaesus dies, and, as if he had
overheard every word that Regulus had said, has not left him one farthing. -
And now have you had enough? or are you for the third, according to rhetorical
canon? If so, Regulus will supply you. You must know, then, that Aurelia, a
lady of remarkable accomplishments, purposing to execute her will,^1 had put
on her smartest dress for the occasion. Regulus, who was present as a witness,
turned to the lady, and "Pray," says he, "leave me these fine clothes."
Aurelia thought the man was joking: but he insisted upon it perfectly
seriously, and, to be brief, obliged her to open her will and insert the dress
she had on as a legacy to him, watching as she wrote, and then looking over it
to see that it was all down correctly. Aurelia, however, is still alive:
though Regulus, no doubt, when he solicited this bequest, expected to enjoyhit
pretty soon. The fellow gets estates, he gets legacies, conferred upon him, as
if he really deserved them! But why should I go on dwelling upon this in a
city where wickedness and knavery have, for this time past, received, the
same, do I say, nay, even greater encouragement, than modesty and virtue?
Regulus is a glaring instance of this truth, who, from a state of poverty, has
by a train of villainies acquired such immense riches that he once told me,
upon consulting the omens to know how soon he should be worth sixty millions
of sesterces,^2 he found them so favourable as to portend he should possess
double that sum. And possibly he may, if he continues to dictate wills for
other people in this way: a sort of fraud, in my opinion, the most infamous of
any. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: This was an act of great ceremony; and if Aurelia`s dress was of
the kind which some of the Roman ladies used, the legacy must have been
considerable which Regulus had the impudence to ask. M.]
Footnote 2: $2,350,000.
XXVI
To Calvisius
I never, I think, spent any time more agreeably than my time lately with
Spurinna. So agreeably, indeed, that if ever I should arrive at old age, there
is no man whom I would sooner choose for my model, for nothing can be more
perfect in arrangement than his mode of life. I look upon order in human
actions, especially at that advanced age, with the same sort of pleasure as I
behold the settled course of the heavenly bodies. In young men, indeed, a
little confusion and disarrangement is all well enough: but in age, when
business is unreasonable, and ambition indecent, all should be composed and
uniform. This rule Spurinna observes with the most religious consistency. Even
in those matters which one might call insignificant, were they not of every -
day occurrence, he observes a certain periodical season and method. The early
morning he passes on his couch; at eight he calls for his slippers, and walks
three miles, exercising mind and body together. On his return, if he has any
friends in the house with him, he gets upon some entertaining and interesting
topic of conversation; if by himself, some book is read to him, sometimes when
visitors are there even, if agreeable to the company. Then he has a rest, and
after that either takes up a book or resumes his conversation in preference to
reading. By and by he goes out for a drive in his carriage, either with his
wife, a most admirable woman, or with some friend: a happiness which lately
was mine. - How agreeable, how delightful it is getting a quiet time alone
with him in this way! You could imagine you were listening to some worthy of
ancient times! What deeds, what men you hear about, and with what noble
precepts you are imbued! Yet all delivered with so modest an air that there is
not the least appearance of dictating. When he has gone about seven miles, he
gets out of his chariot and walks a mile more, after which he returns home,
and either takes a rest or goes back to his couch and writing. For he composes
most elegant lyrics both in Greek and Latin. So wonderfully soft, sweet, and
gay they are, while the author`s own unsullied life lends them additional
charm. When the baths are ready, which in winter is about three o`clock, and
in summer about two, he undresses himself and, if there happen to be no wind,
walks for some time in the sun. After this he has a good brisk game of tennis:
for by this sort of exercise too, he combats the effects of old age. When he
has bathed, he throws himself upon his couch, but waits a little before he
begins eating, and in the meanwhile has some light and entertaining author
read to him. In this, as in all the rest, his friends are at full liberty to
share; or to employ themselves in any other way, just as they prefer. You sit
down to an elegant dinner, without extravagant display, which is served up in
antique plate of pure silver. He has another complete service in Corinthian
metal, which, though he admires as a curiosity, is far from being his passion.
During dinner he is frequently entertained with the recital of some dramatic
piece, by way of seasoning his very pleasures with study; and although he
continues at the table, even in summer, till the night is somewhat advanced,
yet he prolongs the entertainment with so much affability and politeness that
none of his guests ever finds it tedious. By this method of living he has
preserved all his senses entire, and his body vigorous and active to his
seventy-eighth year, without showing any sign of old age except wisdom. This
is the sort of life I ardently aspire after; as I purpose enjoying it when I
shall arrive at those years which will justify a retreat from active life.
Meanwhile I am embarrassed with a thousand affairs, in which Spurinna is at
once my support and my example: for he too, so long as it became him,
discharged his professional duties, held magistracies, governed provinces, and
by toiling hard earned the repose he now enjoys. I propose to myself the same
career and the same limits: and I here give it to you under my hand that I do
so. If an ill-timed ambition should carry me beyond those bounds, produce
this very letter of mine in court against me; and condemn me to repose,
whenever I can enjoy it without being reproached with indolence. Farewell.
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