it during her attendance on Junia, one of the Vestal virgins, engaging
in this good office at first voluntarily, Junia being her relation, and
afterwards being appointed to it by an order from the college of
priests: for these virgins, when excessive ill-health renders it
necessary to remove them from the temple of Vesta, are always delivered
over to the care and custody of some venerable matron. It was owing to
her assiduity in the execution of this charge that she contracted her
present dangerous disorder, which is a continual fever, attended with a
cough that increases daily. She is extremely emaciated, and every part
of her seems in a total decay except her spirits: those, indeed, she
fully keeps up; and in a way altogether worthy the wife of Helvidius,
and the daughter of Thrasea. In all other respects there is such a
falling away that I am more than apprehensive upon her account; I am
deeply afflicted. I grieve, my friend, that so excellent a woman is
going to be removed from the eyes of the world, which will never,
perhaps, again behold her equal. So pure she is, so pious, so wise and
prudent, so brave and steadfast! Twice she followed her husband into
exile, and the third time she was banished herself upon his account. For
Senecio, when arraigned for writing the life of Helvidius, having said
in his defence that he composed that work at the request of Fannia,
Metius Carus, with a stern and threatening air, asked her whether she
had made that request, and she replied, "I made it." Did she supply him
likewise with materials for the purpose? "I did." Was her mother privy
to this transaction? "She was not." In short, throughout her whole
examination, not a word escaped her which betrayed the smallest fear. On
the contrary, she had preserved a copy of those very books which the
senate, over-awed by the tyranny of the times, had ordered to be
suppressed, and at the same time the effects of the author to be
confiscated, and carried with her into exile the very cause of her
exile. How pleasing she is, how courteous, and (what is granted to few)
no less lovable than worthy of all esteem and admiration! Will she
hereafter be pointed out as a model to all wives; and perhaps be
esteemed worthy of being set forth as an example of fortitude even to
our sex; since, while we still have the pleasure of seeing and
conversing with her, we contemplate her with the same admiration, as
those heroines who are celebrated in ancient story? For myself, I
confess, I cannot but tremble for this illustrious house, which seems
shaken to its very foundations, and ready to fall; for though she will
leave descendants behind her, yet what a height of virtue must they
attain, what glorious deeds must they perform, ere the world will be
persuaded that she was not the last of her family! It is an additional
affliction and anguish to me that by her death I seem to lose her mother
a second time; that worthy mother (and what can I say higher in her
praise?) of so noble a woman! who, as she was restored to me in her
daughter, so she will now again be taken from me, and the loss of Fannia
will thus pierce my heart at once with a fresh, and at the same time re-
opened, wound. I so truly loved and honoured them both, that I know not
which I loved the best; a point they desired might ever remain
undetermined. In their prosperity and their adversity I did them every
kindness in my power, and was their comforter in exile, as well as their
avenger at their return. But I have not yet paid them what I owe, and am
so much the more solicitous for the recovery of this lady, that I may
have time to discharge my debt to her. Such is the anxiety and sorrow
under which I write this letter! But if some divine power should happily
turn it into joy, I shall not complain of the alarms I now suffer.
Farewell.
LXXXI -- To GEMINIUS
NUMIDIA QUADRATILLA is dead, having almost reached her eightieth year.
She enjoyed, up to her last illness, uninterrupted good health, and was
unusually stout and robust for one of her sex. She has left a very
prudent will, having disposed of two-thirds of her estate to her
grandson, and the rest to her grand-daughter. The young lady I know very
slightly, but the grandson is one of my most intimate friends. He is a
remarkable young man, and his merit entitles him to the affection of a
relation, even where his blood does not. Notwithstanding his remarkable
personal beauty, he escaped every malicious imputation both whilst a boy
and when a youth: he was a husband at four-and-twenty, and would have
been a father if Providence had not disappointed his hopes. He lived in
the family with his grandmother, who was exceedingly devoted to the
pleasures of the town, yet observed great severity of conduct himself,
while always perfectly deferential and submissive to her. She retained a
set of pantomimes, and was an encourager of this class of people to a
degree inconsistent with one of her sex and rank. But Quadratus never
appeared at these entertainments, whether she exhibited them in the
theatre or in her own house; nor indeed did she require him to be
present. I once heard her say, when she was recommending to me the
supervision of her grandson's studies, that it was her custom, in order
to pass away some of those unemployed hours with which female life
abounds, to amuse herself with playing at chess, or seeing the mimicry
of her pantomimes; but that, whenever she engaged in either of those
amusements, she constantly sent away her grandson to his studies: she
appeared to me to act thus as much out of reverence for the youth as
from affection. I was a good deal surprised, as I am sure you will be
too, at what he told me the last time the Pontifical games[118] were
exhibited. As we were coming out of the theatre together, where we had
been entertained with a show of these pantomimes, "Do you know," said
he, "to-day is the first time I ever saw my grandmother's freedman
dance?" Such was the grandson's speech! while a set of men of a far
different stamp, in order to do honour to Quadratilla (am ashamed to
call it honour), were running up and down the theatre, pretending to be
struck with the utmost admiration and rapture at the performances of
those pantomimes, and then imitating in musical chant the mien and
manner of their lady patroness. But now all the reward they have got, in
return for their theatrical performances, is just a few trivial
legacies, which they have the mortification to receive from an heir who
was never so much as present at these shows.--I send you this account,
knowing you do not dislike hearing town news, and because, too, when any
occurrence has given me pleasure, I love to renew it again by relating
it. And indeed this instance of affection in Quadratilla, and the honour
done therein to that excellent youth her grandson, has afforded me a
very sensible satisfaction; as I extremely rejoice that the house which
once belonged to Cassius,[119] the founder and chief of the Cassian
school, is come into the possession of one no less considerable than its
former master. For my friend will fill it and become it as he ought, and
its ancient dignity, lustre, and glory will again revive under
Quadratus, who, I am persuaded, will prove as eminent an orator as
Cassius was a lawyer. Farewell.
LXXXII -- To MAXIMUS
THE lingering disorder of a friend of mine gave me occasion lately to
reflect that we are never so good as when oppressed with illness. Where
is the sick man who is either solicited by avarice or inflamed with
lust? At such a season he is neither a slave of love nor the fool of
ambition; wealth he utterly disregards, and is content with ever so
small a portion of it, as being upon the point of leaving even that
little. It is then he recollects there are gods, and that he himself is
but a man: no mortal is then the object of his envy, his admiration, or
his contempt; and the tales of slander neither raise his attention nor
feed his curiosity: his dreams are only of baths and fountains. These
are the supreme objects of his cares and wishes, while he resolves, if
he should recover, to pass the remainder of his days in ease and
tranquillity, that is, to live innocently and happily. I may therefore
lay down to you and myself a short rule, which the philosophers have
endeavoured to inculcate at the expense of many words, and even many
volumes; that "we should try and realise in health those resolutions we
form in sickness." Farewell.
LXXXIII -- To SURA
THE present recess from business we are now enjoying affords you leisure
to give, and me to receive, instruction. I am extremely desirous
therefore to know whether you believe in the existence of ghosts, and
that they have a real form, and are a sort of divinities, or only the
visionary impressions of a terrified imagination. What particularly
inclines me to believe in their existence is a story which I heard of
Curtius Rufus. When he was in low circumstances and unknown in the
world, he attended the governor of Africa into that province. One
evening, as he was walking in the public portico, there appeared to him
the figure of a woman, of unusual size and of beauty more than human.
And as he stood there, terrified and astonished, she told him she was
the tutelary power that presided over Africa, and was come to inform him
of the future events of his life: that he should go back to Rome, to
enjoy high honours there, and return to that province invested with the
pro-consular dignity, and there should die. Every circumstance of this
prediction actually came to pass. It is said farther that upon his
arrival at Carthage, as he was coming out of the ship, the same figure
met him upon the shore. It is certain, at least, that being seized with
a fit of illness, though there were no symptoms in his case that led
those about him to despair, he instantly gave up all hope of recovery;
judging, apparently, of the truth of the future part of the prediction
by what had already been fulfilled, and of the approaching misfortune
from his former prosperity. Now the following story, which I am going to
tell you just as I heard it, is it not more terrible than the former,
while quite as wonderful? There was at Athens a large and roomy house,
which had a bad name, so that no one could live there. In the dead of
the night a noise, resembling the clashing of iron, was frequently
heard, which, if you listened more attentively, sounded like the
rattling of chains, distant at first, but approaching nearer by degrees:
immediately afterwards a spectre appeared in the form of an old man, of
extremely emaciated and squalid appearance, with a long beard and
dishevelled hair, rattling the chains on his feet and hands. The
distressed occupants meanwhile passed their wakeful nights under the
most dreadful terrors imaginable. This, as it broke their rest, ruined
their health, and brought on distempers, their terror grew upon them,
and death ensued. Even in the day time, though the spirit did not
appear, yet the impression remained so strong upon their imaginations
that it still seemed before their eyes, and kept them in perpetual
alarm, Consequently the house was at length deserted, as being deemed
absolutely uninhabitable; so that it was now entirely abandoned to the
ghost. However, in hopes that some tenant might be found who was
ignorant of this very alarming circumstance, a bill was put up, giving
notice that it was either to be let or sold. It happened that
Athenodorus[120] the philosopher came to Athens at this time, and,
reading the bill, enquired the price. The extraordinary cheapness raised
his suspicion; nevertheless, when he heard the whole story, he was so
far from being discouraged that he was more strongly inclined to hire
it, and, in short, actually did so. When it grew towards evening, he
ordered a couch to be prepared for him in the front part of the house,
and, after calling for a light, together with his pencil and tablets,
directed all his people to retire. But that his mind might not, for want
of employment, be open to the vain terrors of imaginary noises and
spirits, he applied himself to writing with the utmost attention. The
first part of the night passed in entire silence, as usual; at length a
clanking of iron and rattling of chains was heard: however, he neither
lifted up his eyes nor laid down his pen, but in order to keep calm and
collected tried to pass the sounds off to himself as something else. The
noise increased and advanced nearer, till it seemed at the door, and at
last in the chamber. He looked up, saw, and recognized the ghost exactly
as it had been described to him: it stood before him, beckoning with the
finger, like a person who calls another. Athenodorus in reply made a
sign with his hand that it should wait a little, and threw his eyes
again upon his papers; the ghost then rattled its chains over the head
of the philosopher, who looked up upon this, and seeing it beckoning as
before, immediately arose, and, light in hand, followed it. The ghost
slowly stalked along, as if encumbered with its chains, and, turning
into the area of the house, suddenly vanished. Athenodorus, being thus
deserted, made a mark with some grass and leaves on the spot where the
spirit left him. The next day he gave information to the magistrates,
and advised them to order that spot to be dug up. This was accordingly
done, and the skeleton of a man in chains was found there; for the body,
having lain a considerable time in the ground, was putrefied and
mouldered away from the fetters. The bones being collected together were
publicly buried, and thus after the ghost was appeased by the proper
ceremonies, the house was haunted no more. This story I believe upon the
credit of others; what I am going to mention, I give you upon my own. I
have a freedman named Marcus, who is by no means illiterate. One night,
as he and his younger brother were lying together, he fancied he saw
somebody upon his bed, who took out a pair of scissors, and cut off the
hair from the top part of his own head, and in the morning, it appeared
his hair was actually cut, and the clippings lay scattered about the
floor. A short time after this, an event of a similar nature contributed
to give credit to the former story. A young lad of my family was
sleeping in his apartment with the rest of his companions, when two
persons clad in white came in, as he says, through the windows, cut off
his hair as he lay, and then returned the same way they entered. The
next morning it was found that this boy had been served just as the
other, and there was the hair again, spread about the room. Nothing
remarkable indeed followed these events, unless perhaps that I escaped a
prosecution, in which, if Domitian (during whose reign this happened)
had lived some time longer, I should certainly have been involved. For
after the death of that emperor, articles of impeachment against me were
found in his scrutore, which had been exhibited by Carus. It may
therefore be conjectured, since it is customary for persons under any
public accusation to let their hair grow, this cutting off the hair of
my servants was a sign I should escape the imminent danger that
threatened me. Let me desire you then to give this question your mature
consideration. The subject deserves your examination; as, I trust, I am
not myself altogether unworthy a participation in the abundance of your
superior knowledge. And though you should, as usual, balance between two
opinions, yet I hope you will lean more on one side than on the other,
lest, whilst I consult you in order to have my doubt settled, you should
dismiss me in the same suspense and indecision that occasioned you the
present application. Farewell.
LXXXIV -- To SEPTITIUS
You tell me certain persons have blamed me in your company, as being
upon all occasions too lavish in the praise I give my friends. I not
only acknowledge the charge, but glory in it; for can there be a nobler
error than an overflowing benevolence? But still, who are these, let me
ask, that are better acquainted with my friends than I am myself? Yet
grant there are any such, why will they deny me the satisfaction of so
pleasing a mistake? For supposing my friends not to deserve the highest
encomiums I give them, yet I am happy in believing they do. Let them
recommend then this malignant zeal to those (and their number is not
inconsiderable) who imagine they show their judgment when they indulge
their censure upon their friends. As for myself, they will never be able
to persuade me I can be guilty of an excess[121] in friendship,
Farewell.
LXXXV -- To TACITUS
I PREDICT (and I am persuaded I shall not be deceived) that your
histories will be immortal. I frankly own therefore I so much the more
earnestly wish to find a place in them. If we are generally careful to
have our faces taken by the best artists, ought we not to desire that
our actions may be celebrated by an author of your distinguished
abilities? I therefore call your attention to the following matter,
which, though it cannot have escaped your notice, as it is mentioned in
the public journals, still I call your attention to, that you may the
more readily believe how agreeable it will be to me that this action,
greatly heightened by the risk which attended it, should receive
additional lustre from the testimony of a man of your powers. The senate
appointed Herennius Senecio, and myself, counsel for the province of
Baetica, in their impeachment of Boebius Massa. He was condemned, and
the house ordered his effects to be seized into the hands of the public
officer. Shortly after, Senecio, having learnt that the consuls intended
to sit to hear petitions, came and said to me, "Let us go together, and
petition them with the same unanimity in which we executed the office
which had been enjoined us, not to suffer Massa's effects to be
dissipated by those who were appointed to preserve them." I answered,
"As we were counsel in this affair by order of the senate, I recommend
it to your consideration whether it would be proper for us, after
sentence passed, to interpose any farther." "You are at liberty," said
he, "to prescribe what bounds you please to yourself, who have no
particular connections with the province, except what arise from your
late services to them; but then I was born there, and enjoyed the post
of quaestor among them." "If such," I replied, "is your determined
resolution, I am ready to accompany you, that whatever resentment may be
the consequence of this affair, it may not fall singly upon yourself."
We accordingly proceeded to the consuls, where Senecio said what was
pertinent to the affair, and I added a few words to the same effect.
Scarcely had we ended when Massa, complaining that Senecio had not acted
against him with the fidelity of an advocate, but the bitterness of an
enemy, desired he might be at liberty to prosecute him for treason. This
occasioned general consternation. Whereupon I rose up; "Most noble
consuls," said I, "I am afraid it should seem that Massa has tacitly
charged me with having favoured him in this cause, since he did not
think proper to join me with Senecio in the desired prosecution." This
short speech was immediately received with applause, and afterwards got
much talked about everywhere. The late emperor Nerva (who, though at
that time in a private station, yet interested himself in every
meritorious action performed in public) wrote a most impressive letter
to me upon the occasion, in which he not only congratulated me, but the
age which had produced an example so much in the spirit (as he was
pleased to call it) of the good old days. But, whatever be the actual
fact, it lies in your power to raise it into a grander and more
conspicuously illustrious position, though I am far from desiring you in
the least to exceed the bounds of reality. History ought to be guided by
strict truth, and worthy actions require nothing more. Farewell.
LXXX VI -- To SEPTITIUS
I HAD a good journey here, excepting only that some of my servants were
upset by the excessive heat. Poor Encolpius, my reader,[122] who is so
indispensable to me in my studies and amusements, was so affected with
the dust that it brought on a spitting of blood: an accident which will
prove no less unpleasant to me than unfortunate to himself, should he be
thereby rendered unfit for the literary work in which he so greatly
excels. If that should unhappily result, where shall I find one who will
read my works so well, or appreciate them so thoroughly as he? Whose
tones will my ears drink in as they do his? But the gods seem to favour
our better hopes, as the bleeding is stopped, and the pain abated.
Besides, he is extremely temperate; while no concern is wanting on my
part or care on his physician's. This, together with the wholesomeness
of the air, and the quiet of retirement, gives us reason to expect that
the country will contribute as much to the restoration of his health as
to his rest. Farewell.
LXXXVII -- To CALVISIUS
OTHER people visit their estates in order to recruit their purses;
whilst I go to mine only to return so much the poorer. I had sold my
vintage to the merchants, who were extremely eager to purchase it,
encouraged by the price it then bore, and what it was probable it would
rise to: however they were disappointed in their expectations. Upon this
occasion to have made the same general abatement to all would have been
much the easiest, though not so equitable a method. Now I hold it
particularly worthy of a man of honour to be governed by principles of
strict equity in his domestic as well as public conduct; in little
matters as in great ones; in his own concerns as well as in those of
others. And if every deviation from rectitude is equally criminal,[123]
every approach to it must be equally praiseworthy. So accordingly I
remitted to all in general one-eighth part of the price they had agreed
to give me, that none might go away without some compensation: next, I
particularly considered those who had advanced the largest sums towards
their purchase, and done me so much the more service, and been greater
sufferers themselves. To those, therefore, whose purchase amounted to
more than ten thousand sesterces,[124] I returned (over and above that
which I may call the general and common eighth) a tenth part of what
they had paid beyond that sum. I fear I do not express myself
sufficiently clearly; I will endeavour to explain my meaning more fully:
for instance, suppose a man had purchased of me to the value of fifteen
thousand sesterces,[125] I remitted to him one-eighth part of that whole
sum, and likewise one-tenth of five thousand.[126] Besides this, as
several had deposited, in different proportions, part of the price they
had agreed to pay, whilst others had advanced nothing, I thought it
would not be at all fair that all these should be favoured with the same
undistinguished remission. To those, therefore, who had made any
payments, I returned a tenth part upon the sums so paid. By this means I
made a proper acknowledgment to each, according to their respective
deserts, and likewise encouraged them, not only to deal with me for the
future, but to be prompt in their payments. This instance of my good-
nature or my judgment (call it which you please) was a considerable
expense to me. However, I found my account in it; for all the country
greatly approved both of the novelty of these abatements and the manner
in which I regulated them. Even those whom I did not "mete" (as they
say) "by the same measure," but distinguished according to their several
degrees, thought themselves obliged to me, in proportion to the probity
of their principles, and went away pleased with having experienced that
not with me
"The brave and mean an equal honour find."<a href="#linknote-127"
name="linknoteref-127" id="linknoteref-127">[127]</a>
Farewell.
LXXX VIII -- To ROMANUS