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General LettersPart VI
Part VI
XLI
To Maturus Arrianus
My advancement to the dignity of augur^1 is an honour that justly indeed
merits your congratulations; not only because it is highly honourable to
receive, even in the slightest instances, a testimony of the approbation of so
wise and discreet a prince,^2 but because it is, moreover, an ancient and
religious institution, which has this sacred and peculiar privilege annexed to
it, that it is for life. Other sacerdotal offices, though they may, perhaps,
be almost equal to this one in dignity, yet, as they are given, so they may be
taken away again: but fortune has no further power over this than to bestow
it. What recommends this dignity still more highly is, that I have the honour
to succeed so illustrious a person as Julius Frontinus. He for many years,
upon the nomination-day of proper persons to be received into the sacred
college, constantly proposed me, as though he had a view to electing me as his
successor; and since it actually proved so in the event, I am willing to look
upon it as something more than mere accident. But the circumstance, it seems,
that most pleases you in this affair, is, that Cicero enjoyed the same post;
and you rejoice (you tell me) to find that I follow his steps as closely in
the path of honours as I endeavour to do in that of eloquence. I wish, indeed,
that as I had the advantage of being admitted earlier into the same order of
priesthood, and into the consular office, than Cicero, so I might, in my later
years, catch some spark, at least, of his divine genius! The former, indeed,
being at man`s disposal, may be conferred on me and on many others, but the
latter it is as presumptuous to hope for as it is difficult to reach, being in
the gift of heaven alone. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: Their business was to interpret dreams, oracles, prodigies, &c.,
and to foretell whether any action should be fortunate or prejudicial to
particular persons, or to the whole commonwealth. Upon this account, they very
often occasioned the displacing of magistrates, the deferring of public
assemblies, &c. Kennet`s Rom. Antiq. M.]
[Footnote 2: Trajan.]
XLII
To Statius Sabinus
Your letter informs me that Sabina, who appointed you and me her heirs,
though she has nowhere expressly directed that Modestus shall have his
freedom, yet has left him a legacy in the following words: "I give, &c. - To
Modestus, whom I have ordered to have his freedom": upon which you desire my
opinion. I have consulted skilful lawyers upon the point, and they all agree
Modestus is not entitled to his liberty, since it is not expressly given, and
consequently that the legacy is void, as being bequeathed to a slave.^1 But it
evidently appears to be a mistake in the testatrix; and therefore I think we
ought to act in this case as though Sabina had directed, in so many words,
what, it is clear, she had ordered. I am persuaded you will go with me in this
opinion, who so religiously regard the will of the deceased, which indeed
where it can be discovered will always be law to honest heirs. Honour is to
you and me as strong an obligation as the compulsion of law is to others. Let
Modestus then enjoy his freedom and his legacy as fully as if Sabina had
observed all the requisite forms, as indeed they effectually do who make a
judicious choice of their heirs. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: A slave was incapable of property; and, therefore, whatever he
acquired became the right of his master. M.]
XLIII
To Cornelius Minicianus
Have you heard - I suppose, not yet, for the news has but just arrived -
that Valerius Licinianus has become a professor in Sicily? This unfortunate
person, who lately enjoyed the dignity of praetor, and was esteemed the most
eloquent of our advocates, is now fallen from a senator to an exile, from an
orator to a teacher of rhetoric. Accordingly in his inaugural speech he
uttered, sorrowfully and solemnly, the following words: "O Fortune, how
capriciously dost thou sport with mankind! Thou makest rhetoricians of
senators, and senators of rhetoricians!" A sarcasm so poignant and full of
gall that one might almost imagine he fixed upon this profession merely for
the sake of an opportunity of applying it. And having made his first
appearance in school, clad in the Greek cloak (for exiles have no right to
wear the toga), after arranging himself and looking down upon his attire, "I
am, however," he said, "going to declaim in Latin." You will think, perhaps,
this situation, wretched and deplorable as it is, is what he well deserves for
having stained the honourable profession of an orator with the crime of
incest. It is true, indeed, he pleaded guilty to the charge; but whether from
a consciousness of his guilt, or from an apprehension of worse consequences if
he denied it, is not clear; for Domitian generally raged most furiously where
his evidence failed him most hopelessly. That emperor had determined that
Cornelia, chief of the Vestal Virgins,^1 should be buried alive, from an
extravagant notion that exemplary severities of this kind conferred lustre
upon his reign.
[Footnote 1: "Their office was to attend upon the rites of Vesta, the chief
part of which was the preservation of the holy fire. If this fire happened to
go out, it was considered impiety to light it at any common flame, but they
made use of the pure and unpolluted rays of the sun for that purpose. There
were various other duties besides connected with their office. The chief rules
prescribed them were, to vow the strictest chastity for the space of thirty
years. After this term was completed, they had liberty to leave the order. If
they broke their vow of virginity; they were buried alive in a place allotted
to that peculiar use." Kennet`s Antiq. Their reputation for sanctity was so
high that Livy mentions the fact of two of those virgins having violated their
vows, as a prodigy that threatened destruction to the Roman state. Lib. xxii.,
c. 57. And Suetonius informs us that Augustus had so high an opinion of this
religious order that he consigned the care of his will to the Vestal Virgins.
Suet. in Vit. Aug. c. 101. M.]
Accordingly, by virtue of his office as supreme pontiff, or, rather, in
the exercise of a tyrant`s cruelty, a despot`s lawlessness, he convened the
sacred college, not in the pontifical court where they usually assemble, but
at his villa near Alba; and there, with a guilt no less heinous than that
which he professed to be punishing, he condemned her, when she was not present
to defend herself, on the charge of incest, while he himself had been guilty,
not only of debauching his own brother`s daughter, but was also accessory to
her death: for that lady, being a widow, in order to conceal her shame,
endeavoured to procure an abortion, and by that means lost her life. However,
the priests were directed to see the sentence immediately executed upon
Cornelia. As they were leading her to the place of execution, she called upon
Vesta, and the rest of the gods, to attest her innocence; and, amongst other
exclamations, frequently cried out, "Is it possible that Caesar can think me
polluted, under the influence of whose sacred functions he has conquered and
triumphed?"^2 Whether she said this in flattery or derision; whether it
proceeded from a consciousness of her innocence, or contempt of the emperor,
is uncertain; but she continued exclaiming in this manner, til she came to the
place of execution, to which she was led, whether innocent or guilty I cannot
say, at all events with every appearance and demonstration of innocence. As
she was being lowered down into the subterranean vault, her robe happening to
catch upon something in the descent, she turned round and disengaged it, when,
the executioner offering his assistance, she drew herself back with horror,
refusing to be so much as touched by him, as though it were a defilement to
her pure and unspotted chastity: still preserving the appearance of sanctity
up to the last moment; and, among all the other instances of her modesty,
[Footnote 2: It was usual with Domitian to triumph, not only without a
victory, but even after a defeat. M.]
"She took great care to fall with decency."^3
[Footnote 3: Euripides` Hecuba.]
Celer likewise, a Roman knight, who was accused of an intrigue with her, while
they were scourging him with rods^4 in the Forum, persisted in exclaiming,
"What have I done? - I have done nothing."
[Footnote 4: The punishment inflicted upon the violators of Vestal chastity
was to be scourged to death. M.]
These declarations of innocence had exasperated Domitian exceedingly, as
imputing to him acts of cruelty and injustice; accordingly Licinianus, being
seized by the emperor`s orders for having concealed a freedwoman of Cornelia`s
in one of his estates, was advised, by those who took him in charge, to
confess the fact, if he hoped to obtain a remission of his punishment, and he
complied with their advice. Herennius Senecio spoke for him in his absence, in
some such words as Homer`s
"Patroclus lies in death."
"Instead of an advocate," said he, "I must turn informer: Licinianus has
fled." This news was so agreeable to Domitian that he could not help betraying
his satisfaction: "Then," he exclaimed, "has Licinianus acquitted us of
injustice"; adding that he would not press too hard upon him in his disgrace.
He accordingly allowed him to carry off such of his effects as he could secure
before they were seized for the public use, and in other respects softened the
sentence of banishment by way of reward for his voluntary confession.
Licinianus was afterwards, through the clemency of the emperor Nerva,
permitted to settle in Sicily, where he now professes rhetoric, and avenges
himself upon Fortune in his declamations. - You see how obedient I am to your
commands, in sending you a circumstantial detail of foreign as well as
domestic news. I imagined indeed, as you were absent when this transaction
occurred, that you had only heard just in a general way that Licinianus was
banished for incest, as Fame usually makes her report in general terms,
without going into particulars. I think I deserve in return a full account of
all that is going on in your town and neighbourhood, where something worth
telling about is usually happening; however, write what you please, provided
you send me as long a letter as my own. I give you notice, I shall count not
only the pages, but even the very lines and syllables. Farewell.
XLIV
To Valerius Paulinus
Rejoice with me, my friend, not only upon my account, but your own, and
that of the republic as well; for literature is still held in honour. Being
lately engaged to plead a cause before the Court of the Hundred, the crowd was
so great that I could not get to my place without crossing the tribunal where
the judges sat. And I have this pleasing circumstance to add further, that a
young nobleman, having had his tunic torn, an ordinary occurrence in a crowd,
stood with his gown thrown over him, to hear me, and that during the seven
hours I was speaking, whilst my success more than counterbalanced the fatigue
of so long a speech. So let us set to and not screen our own indolence under
pretence of that of the public. Never, be very sure of that, will there be
wanting hearers and readers, so long as we can only supply them with speakers
and writers worth their attention. Farewell.
XLV
To Asinius
You advise me, nay you entreat me, to undertake, in her absence, the
cause of Corellia, against C. Caecilius, consul elect. For your advice I am
grateful, of your entreaty I really must complain; without the first, indeed,
I should have been ignorant of this affair, but the last was unnecessary, as I
need no solicitations to comply, where it would be ungenerous in me to refuse;
for can I hesitate a moment to take upon myself the protection of a daughter
of Corellius? It is true, indeed, though there is no particular intimacy
between her adversary and myself, still we are upon good enough terms. It is
also true that he is a person of rank, and one who has a high claim upon my
especial regard, as destined to enter upon an office which I have had the
honour to fill; and it is natural for a man to be desirous those dignities
should be held in the highest esteem which he himself once possessed. Yet all
these considerations appear indifferent and trifling when I reflect that it is
the daughter of Corellius whom I am to defend. The memory of that excellent
person, than whom this age has not produced a man of greater dignity,
rectitude, and acuteness, is indelibly imprinted upon my mind. My regard for
him sprang from my admiration of the man, and contrary to what is usually the
case, my admiration increased upon a thorough knowledge of him, and indeed I
did know him thoroughly, for he kept nothing back from me, whether gay or
serious, sad or joyous. When he was but a youth, he esteemed, and (I will even
venture to say) revered, me as if I had been his equal. When I solicited any
post of honour, he supported me with his interest, and recommended me with his
testimony; when I entered upon it, he was my introducer and my companion; when
I exercised it, he was my guide and my counsellor. In a word, whenever my
interest was concerned, he exerted himself, in spite of his weakness and
declining years, with as much alacrity as though he were still young and
lusty. In private, in public, and at court, how often has he advanced and
supported my credit and interest! It happened once that the conversation, in
the presence of the emperor Nerva, turned upon the promising young men of that
time, and several of the company present were pleased to mention me with
applause; he sat for a little while silent, which gave what he said the
greater weight; and then, with that air of dignity, to which you are no
stranger, "I must be reserved," said he, "in my praises of Pliny, because he
does nothing without my advice." By which single sentence he bestowed upon me
more than my most extravagant wishes could aspire to, as he represented my
conduct to be always such as wisdom must approve, since it was wholly under
the direction of one of the wisest of men. Even in his last moments he said to
his daughter (as she often mentions), "I have in the course of a long life
raised up many friends to you, but there are none in whom you may more
assuredly confide than Pliny and Cornutus." A circumstance I cannot reflect
upon without being deeply sensible how incumbent it is upon me to endeavour
not to disappoint the confidence so excellent a judge of human nature reposed
in me. I shall therefore most readily give my assistance to Corellia in this
affair, and willingly risk any displeasure I may incur by appearing in her
behalf. Though I should imagine, if in the course of my pleadings I should
find an opportunity to explain and enforce more fully and at large than the
limits of a letter allow of, the reasons I have here mentioned, upon which I
rest at once my apology and my glory; her adversary (whose suit may perhaps,
as you say, be entirely without precedent, as it is against a woman) will not
only excuse, but approve, my conduct. Farewell.
XLVI
To Hispulla
As you are a model of all virtue, and loved your late excellent brother,
who had such a fondness for you, with an affection equal to his own; regarding
too his daughter^1 as your child, not only shewing her an aunt`s tenderness,
but supplying the place of the parent she had lost; I know it will give you
the greatest pleasure and joy to hear that she proves worthy of her father,
her grandfather, and yourself. She possesses an excellent understanding
together with a consummate prudence, and gives the strongest evidence of the
purity of her heart by her fondness of her husband. Her affection for me,
moreover, has given her a taste for books, and my productions, which she takes
a pleasure in reading, and even in getting by heart, are continually in her
hands. How full of tender anxiety is she when I am going to speak in any case,
how rejoiced she feels when it is got through! While I am pleading, she
stations persons to inform her from time to time how I am heard, what
applauses I receive, and what success attends the case. When I recite my works
at any time, she conceals herself behind some curtain, and drinks in my
praises with greedy ears. She sings my verses too, adapting them to her lyre,
with no other master but love, that best of instructors, for her guide. From
these happy circumstances I derive my surest hopes that the harmony between us
will increase with our days, and be as lasting as our lives. For it is not my
youth or person, which time gradually impairs; it is my honour and glory that
she cares for. But what less could be expected from one who was trained by
your hands, and formed by your instructions; who was early familiarized under
your roof with all that is pure and virtuous, and who learnt to love me first
through your praises? And as you revered my mother with all the respect due
even to a parent, so you kindly directed and encouraged my tender years,
presaging from that early period all that my wife now fondly imagines I really
am. Accept therefore of our mutual thanks, mine for your giving me her, hers
for your giving her me; for you have chosen us out, as it were, for each
other. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: Calpurnia, Pliny`s wife.]
XLVII
To Romatius Firmus
Look here! The next time the courts sits, you must, at all events, take
your place there. In vain would your indolence repose itself under my
protection, for there is no absenting oneself with impunity. Look at that
severe, determined praetor, Licinius Nepos, who fined even a senator for the
same neglect! The senator pleaded his cause in person, but in suppliant tone.
The fine, it is true, was remitted, but sore was his dismay, humble his
intercession, and he had to ask pardon. "All praetors are not so severe as
that," you will reply; you are mistaken - for though indeed to be the author
and reviver of an example of this kind may be an act of severity, yet, once
introduced, even lenity herself may follow the precedent. Farewell.
XLVIII
To Licinius Sura
I have brought you as a little present out of the country a query which
well deserves the consideration of your extensive knowledge. There is a spring
which rises in a neighbouring mountain and, running among the rocks, is
received into a little banqueting-room, artificially formed for that
purpose, from whence, after being detained a short time, it falls into the
Larian lake. The nature of this spring is extremely curious; it ebbs and flows
regularly three times a day. The increase and decrease are plainly visible,
and exceedingly interesting to observe. You sit down by the side of the
fountain, and while you are taking a repast and drinking its water, which is
extremely cool, you see it gradually rise and fall. If you place a ring, or
anything else, at the bottom, when it is dry, the water creeps gradually up,
first gently washing, finally covering it entirely, and then little by little
subsides again. If you wait long enough, you may see it thus alternately
advance and recede three successive times. Shall we say that some secret
current of air stops and opens the fountainhead, first rushing in and checking
the flow and then, driven back by the counter-resistance of the water,
escaping again; as we see in bottles, and other vessels of that nature, where,
there not being a free and open passage, though you turn their necks
perpendicularly or obliquely downwards, yet, the outward air obstructing the
vent, they discharge their contents, as it were, by starts? Or may not this
small collection of water be successively contracted and enlarged upon the
same principle as the ebb and flow of the sea? Or, again, as those rivers
which discharge themselves into the sea, meeting with contrary winds and the
swell of the ocean, are forced back in their channels, so, in the same way,
may there not be something that checks this fountain, for a time, in its
progress? Or is there rather a certain reservoir that contains these waters in
the bowels of the earth, and while it is recruiting its discharges, the stream
in consequence flows more slowly and in less quantity, but, when it has
collected its due measure, runs on again in its usual strength and fulness?
Or, lastly, is there I know not what kind of subterranean counterpoise, that
throws up the water when the fountain is dry, and keeps it back when it is
full? You, who are so well qualified for the enquiry, will examine into the
causes of this wonderful phenomenon; it will be sufficient for me if I have
given you an adequate description of it. Farewell.
XLIX
To Annius Severus
A small legacy was lately left me, yet one more acceptable than a far
larger bequest would have been. How more acceptable than a far larger one? In
this way: Pomponia Gratilla, having disinherited her son Assidius Curianus,
appointed me one of her heirs, and Sertorius Severus, of praetorian rank,
together with several eminent Roman knights, coheirs along with me. The son
applied to me to give him my share of the inheritance, in order to use my name
as an example to the rest of the joint heirs, but offered at the same time to
enter into a secret agreement to return me my proportion. I told him it was by
no means agreeable to my character to seem to act one way while in reality I
was acting another, besides it was not quite honourable making presents to a
man of his fortune, who had no children; in a word, this would not at all
answer the purpose at which he was aiming, whereas, if I were to withdraw my
claim, it might be of some service to him, and this I was ready and willing to
do, if he could clearly prove to me that he was unjustly disinherited.
"Do then," he said, "be my arbitrator in this case." After a short pause
I answered him, "I will, for I don`t see why I should not have as good an
opinion of my own impartial disinterestedness as you seem to have. But, mind,
I am not to be prevailed upon to decide the point in question against your
mother, if it should appear she had just reason for what she has done." "As
you please," he replied, "which I am sure is always to act according to
justice." I called in, as my assistants, Corellius and Frontinus, two of the
very best lawyers Rome at that time afforded. With these in attendance, I
heard the case in my own chamber. Curianus said everything which he thought
would favour his pretensions, to whom (there being nobody but myself to defend
the character of the deceased) I made a short reply; after which I retired
with my friends to deliberate, and, being agreed upon our verdict, I said to
him, "Curianus, it is our opinion that your conduct has justly drawn upon you
your mother`s displeasure." Some time afterwards, Curianus commenced a suit in
the Court of the Hundred against all the coheirs except myself. The day
appointed for the trial approaching, the rest of the coheirs were anxious to
compromise the affair and have done with it, not out of any diffidence of
their cause, but from a distrust of the times. They were apprehensive of what
had happened to many others, happening to them, and that from a civil suit it
might end in a criminal one, as there were some among them to whom the
friendship of Gratilla and Rusticus^1 might be extremely prejudicial: they
therefore desired me to go and talk with Curianus. We met in the temple of
Concord; "Now supposing," I said, "your mother had left you the fourth part of
her estate, or even suppose she had made you sole heir, but had exhausted so
much of the estate in legacies that there would not be more than a fourth part
remaining to you, could you justly complain? You ought to be content,
therefore, if, being absolutely disinherited as you are, the heirs are willing
to relinquish to you a fourth part, which, however, I will increase by
contributing my proportion. You know you did not commence any suit against me,
and two years have now elapsed, which gives me legal and indisputable
possession. But to induce you to agree to the proposals on the part of the
other coheirs, and that you may be no sufferer by the peculiar respect you
shew me, I offer to advance my proportion with them." The silent approval of
my own conscience is not the only result out of this transaction; it has
contributed also to the honour of my character. For it is this same Curianus
who has left me the legacy I have mentioned in the beginning of my letter, and
I received it as a very notable mark of his approbation of my conduct, if I do
not flatter myself. I have written and told you all this, because in all my
joys and sorrows I am wont to look upon you as myself, and I thought it would
be unkind not to communicate to so tender a friend whatever occasions me a
sensible gratification; for I am not philosopher enough to be indifferent,
when I think I have acted like an honourable man, whether my actions meet with
that approval which is in some sort their due. Farewell.
[Footnote 1: Gratilla was the wife of Rusticus: Rusticus was put to death by
Domitian, and Gratilla banished. It was sufficient crime in the reign of that
execrable prince to be even a friend of those who were obnoxious to him. M.]
L
To Titius Aristo
Among the many agreeable and obliging instances I have received of your
friendship, your not concealing from me the long conversation which lately
took place at your house concerning my verses, and the various judgments
passed upon them (which served to prolong the talk), is by no means the least.
There were some, it seems, who did not disapprove of my poems in themselves,
but at the same time censured me in a free and friendly way, for employing
myself in composing and reciting them. I am so far, however, from desiring to
extenuate the charge that I willingly acknowledge myself still more deserving
of it, and confess that I sometimes amuse myself with writing verses of the
gayer sort. I compose comedies, divert myself with pantomimes, read the lyric
poets, and enter into the spirit of the most wanton muse, besides that, I
indulge myself sometimes in laughter, mirth, and frolic, and, to sum up every
kind of innocent relaxation in one word, I am a man. I am not in the least
offended, though, at their low opinion of my morals, and that those who are
ignorant of the fact that the most learned, the wisest, and the best of men
have employed themselves in the same way, should be surprised at the tone of
my writings: but from those who know what noble and numerous examples I
follow, I shall, I am confident, easily obtain permission to err with those
whom it is an honour to imitate, not only in their most serious occupations
but their lightest triflings. Is it unbecoming me - I will not name any living
example, lest I should seem to flatter - but is it unbecoming me to practise
what became Tully, Calvus, Pollio, Messala, Hortensius, Brutus, Sulla,
Catulus, Scaevola, Sulpitius, Varro, the Torquati, Memmius, Gaetulicus,
Seneca, Lucceius, and, within our own memory, Verginius Rufus? But if the
examples of private men are not sufficient to justify me, I can cite Julius
Caesar, Augustus, Nerva, and Tiberius Caesar. I forbear to add Nero to the
catalogue, though I am aware that what is practised by the worst of men does
not therefore degenerate into wrong: on the contrary, it still maintains its
credit, if frequently countenanced by the best. In that number, Virgil,
Cornelius Nepos, and, prior to these, Ennius and Attius, justly deserve the
most distinguished place. These last indeed were not senators, but goodness
knows no distinction of rank or title. I recite my works, it is true, and in
this instance I am not sure I can support myself by their examples. They,
perhaps, might be satisfied with their own judgment, but I have too humble an
opinion of mine to suppose my compositions perfect, because they appear so to
my own mind. My reasons then for reciting are, that, for one thing, there is a
certain deference for one`s audience, which excites a somewhat more vigorous
application, and then again, I have by this means an opportunity of settling
any doubts I may have concerning my performance, by observing the general
opinion of the audience. In a word, I have the advantage of receiving
different hints from different persons: and although they should not declare
their meaning in express terms, yet the expression of the countenance, the
movement of the head, the eyes, the motion of a hand, a whisper, or even
silence itself will easily distinguish their real opinion from the language of
politeness. And so if any one of my audience should have the curiosity to read
over the same performance which he heard me read, he may find several things
altered or omitted, and perhaps too upon his particular judgment, though he
did not say a single word to me. But I am not defending my conduct in this
particular, as if I had actually recited my works in public, and not in my own
house before my friends, a numerous appearance of whom has upon many occasions
been held an honour, but never, surely, a reproach. Farewell.
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