The letters of the younger Pliny; literally translated by John Delaware Lewis

HANDBOUND
AT THE

7 r«^

THE LETTERS

OP THE

YOUNGER PLINY.

JUVENAL'S SATIRES,

WITH

NOTES, AND AN ENGLISH

BY

PROSE TRANSLATION,

JOHN DELAWARE

LEWIS, M.A.

Cloth, pp. viii-514.

Price 14/.

1873-

LONDON : TRUBNER & CO

, LUDGATE HILL.

1

'">^/ll<r.;?^

THE LETTERS

^

OF THE

YOUNaEE FLINT,

LITERALLY TRANSLATED

BY

JOHN DELAAVAKE LEWIS, M.A.

521829

LONDON:
TEUBNEK & CO., LUDGATE HILL.

1879.

\All rigJits reserved.]

/f77

/
/"

PREFACE.

Very few words are necessary by way of preface to the
following translation. It has often occurred to me as
singular that, in the present age of literal renderings from
the principal Greek and Latin writers, the younger Pliny
should have been entirely neglected — in our own country
at least ; for, in Germany, three very accurate translations
of the " Letters " have been given to the world by Schmid,
Schafer, and Thierfeld. In England, we have only the
versions of Melmoth and Lord Orrery, both of them
published in the middle of the last century, and neither of
them, whatever their merits (and these are great), answer-
ino- to the requirements of modern scholarship. They
contain, in fact, an admirable paraphrase of the " Letters "
for the benefit of the English reader, but they are in places
useless, and worse than useless, to him who seeks, through
the aid of a translation, to obtain an accurate knowledge
of, and a light to conduct him through the difficult
passages in, the original. Moreover, they contain many
positive mistakes. Even these versions have been out of
print till quite lately, when, I believe, an adaptation of
Melmoth has been published by Mr. H. G. Bohn. So that

VI

PREFACE.

while every Classical author of any repute (with the sole
exception, as far as I know, of Macrobius) has been of late
presented to the public in an English dress, the English
reader of Pliny has been obliged to resort to the shelves
of a public library, or to hunt among the secondhand
booksellers' stores, or to await the turning up of a chance
copy at a sale.

Under these circumstances, it has appeared to me that
the following translation (executed originally for my own
amusement) might be of some slight use if put into print.
As to the manner in which the work has been done, it is
]iot for me to speak ; but in regard to the plan which I
have attempted to follow, I cannot describe it better than
in the languasje of a distinguished Professor, with some
slight verbal alterations in his phraseology to suit it to
the present case :

" A translation may have two objects. It may be
either intended to display the translator's felicity of dic-
tion, as when scholars produce English versions of Ana-
creon or Horace for the amusement of those who are well
acquainted with the originals, a pursuit for which I can-
not say that I have any esteem ; or it may be intended to
facilitate the study of the original, while it gives the
translator's countrymen generally some acquaintance with
a foreign author, who deserves to be known even by
those who are not acquainted with his language. The
latter has been the object proposed in this translation.
With this view I have always guarded myself from being
seduced into paraphrase by the desire of elegance. The

PREFACE. vii

text of the author has been rendered throughout as closely
as is consistent with intelligibility." *

I have followed Keil's text, but not servilely. "VVlien
a reading differing from his has been adopted, the differ-
ence has commonly been referred to in a note. The notes
are merely such as are absolutely necessary to make the
English text intelligible to the reader.

The editions consulted by me have been those of Cortius
and Longolius (Amsterdam, 1734), Gierig (Leipsic, 1800),
Gesner and Schaefer (Leipsic, 1805), Herbst " Epistolarum
Delectus" (Halle, 1839), Doering (Freyberg, 1843), and
" Selected Letters of Pliny," by Prichard and Bernard
(Oxford, 1872).

* Professor Chenery, Preface to the Assemblies of Al Hariri. Williams
& Norgate, 1867.

/^

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

Pliny the Younger (C. Plinius Caecilius Secundus) was
Lorn in a.d. 6i or 62, during the reign of JSTero, most
probably at Comum, on the Lake Larius, now Lago di
Como. He was adopted by his uncle, the Elder Pliny,
the author of the " Natural History," in whose company
he witnessed the famous eruption of Vesuvius in a.d. 79.
He commenced practising at the bar in his nineteenth
year. Not long afterwards he was appointed Military
Tribune in Syria. On his return to Eome he continued
his practice at the bar, and filled various offices : those of
Quaestor, Pmetor, Consul, &c. In the year of his Consul-
ship, A.D. 100, he wrote his "Panegyric" on the Emperor
Trajan, the only production of his pen, besides his
"Letters," which has come down to us. In a.d. 103 he
was appointed Proprsetor of the Province of Pontus, where
he remained nearly two years. Nothing is known of the
time of his death. He was twice married, but had no
children.

PLINY'S LETTERS.

BOOK I.

To Septicius.

You have frequently urged me to collect and publish such
of my letters as had been written with rather more than
usual care. I have collected them, without preserving the
order of dates (since it was not a historv that I was com-
piling), but just as each came to hand. It remains that
you should have no cause to repent your advice, nor I
my compliance. The result, in that case, will be that I
shall hunt up such other letters as still lie neglected, and
if I write any fresh ones, they shall not be withheld.

To Arrianus.

Foreseeing that your arrival will be later than was ex-
pected, I forward you the work promised in my former
letters. This production I beg that you will, as your
custom is, not only read, but also correct, more especially
as I do not think I have ever written anything in precisely
the same spirit of emulation. For I have attempted to
imitate Demosthenes, always your model, and Calvus, who
has lately become mine, at least in their rhetorical turns ;
the 'power of such mighty men is indeed only to be
attained by "the few whom the Gods favour." The
subject-matter, too, lent itself to this kind of emulation

A

2 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(if the -word be not too presumptuous), being almost en-
tirely in the line of vigorous expression, such as to rouse
me from the lethargy of my long sloth, provided only
I was capable of being roused. Yet I have not altogether
avoided the "touches of colour" of Cicero, whenever a
pleasant topic, not unseasonably introduced, suggested to
me a sHght divergence from the beaten road : since it was
my aim to be spirited rather than solemn. Now don't
suppose that these are reservations under which your
indulgence is solicited. On the contrary, in order to add
to the severity of your file, I will confess that both my
friends and myself are not averse to publication, if only
you will throw in a favourable vote on behalf of what is
perhaps my folly. Indeed it is evident that something
will have to be published, and I should very greatly
prefer that it were this book, which is all ready (do you
hear the wish of indolence ?). Something, I say, must be
published, and that for many reasons ; principally because
the books wliich I have already issued are said to be still
in people's hands, although they have, by this time, lost
the charm of novelty ; unless indeed the booksellers flatter
my ears. Well, let it be flattery, for what I care, so long
as by this fiction they commend my studies to me.

(3-)

To Canirius Eufus.

What news of Comum, your delight and mine ? What
of that most charming of villas ? What of those cloisters,
where it is always spring time ? What of that most shady
of plane groves ? What of the canal with its green and
enamelled banks ? What of the lake which underlies you
and ministers to you ? Wliat of the exercising ground
uniting softness with solidity ? What of that bath-room
which always catches the full sun on his way round ?
What of those dining-rooms for large and those for small
company ? What of the resting-chambers for day and

BOOK I. 3

for night? Do these things engross you, and claim a
share of you by turns ? Or, as used to be the case, does
your attention to your business affairs summon you to
frequent excursions abroad ? If they do engross you,
happy and blessed you ! If not, you are like a good many
folks. Come now (for it is indeed time), why not hand
over low and grovelling cares to others, and, for your part,
in that deep and snug retreat of yours, attach yourself to
study? Let this be your business, this your relaxation,
this your labour, this your repose. In this, let your
waking and even your sleeping time be employed. Fashion
and produce something which shall be for ever your own.
For the rest of your property will, after you, fall to the lot
of one master after another. This, once yours, will never
cease to be yours. I know what a soul, what a mind, I
am exhorting. Do you only strive to put that high value
on yourself, which, when you have done so, others will
certainly put on you.

(4-)

To POMPEIA CeLERINA, HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW.

What a wealth of appointments at your houses at Ocri-
culum, Narnia, Carsulse, Perusia ! At Narnia a bath-
room into the bargain. That one short letter of mine, of
old date, suffices to tell this, and yours are no longer
necessary. By Hercules, I can't call my own property
my own so much as I can call yours. There is, however,
this difference, that your servants receive me with greater
diligence and attention than my own. The same thing
will probably happen to you if you should at any time
visit my house. And, by the way, I wish you would ;
firstly, that you may have the same full enjoyment
of what is mine as I of what is yours; and in the
next place, that my people may be occasionally routed up,
who await my coming quite at their ease, and almost
negligently. For habit itself causes servants to lose theii"

4 PLINY'S LETTERS.

awe of easy-going masters; whereas they are roused by
what is new to them, and labour to approve themselves to
their masters rather by their services to others than by
those paid to the masters themselves.

(5-)

To VOCONIUS EOMANUS.

Have you ever seen any one more cowed and abject than
Marcus Eegulus, since the death of Domitian, under whom
he perpetrated infamies as great as under Nero, though
with more concealment ? He began to fear that I was
angry with him ; and he was not mistaken, for I loas
angry. He had fostered the perils which threatened Pais-
ticus Arulenus, and had rejoiced in his death to such an
extent as to recite and publish a book in which he insulted
Ptusticus, and even called him " that ape of the Stoics." He
added that he was " branded with a Vitellian scar." * You
recognise tlie eloquence of Eegulus ! He mangled Heren-
nius Senecio, and with such violence as to cause Mettius
Carus to say to him, " What business have you with my
dead ? Do / trouble Crassus or Camerinus ? " — men whom
Eegulus had accused under Nero. Eegulus believed that
I took all this to heart, and, consequently, when he recited
his book, did not invite me. Moreover, he remembered
in what a deadly manner he had challenged me in the
Court of the Centumviri.f I was counsel for Arrionilla, the
wife of Timon, at the request of Arulenus Eusticus. Ee-
gulus was on the other side. In a certain part of the
cause we were relying on a decision of Mettius Modestus,
a distinguished man; he was at that time exiled by
Domitian. Just see what Eegulus did. " I ask you," says
he, " Secundus, what is your opinion of Modestus ? " You
observe what would have been the danger of giving a

* A wound be had received while judges, as the name implies, divided

taking the part of Vitellius. — Taci- into Chambers or Courts. It will be

tus, Hist. iii. 80. found frequently mentioned in these

t A college of about one hundred letters.

BOOK L 5

favourable opinion, and what the disgrace of giving an
unfavourable one. I cannot but think that the Gods
themselves, and none else, came to my aid at that moment.
" I will answer," said I, " if it is upon this point that the
Judges are to decide." He returned to the charge, " I ask
you, what is your opinion of Modestus ? " I spoke a
second time. "It used to be the custom to summon
witnesses against persons on trial, not against those con-
victed." A third time he said, " I don't now ask what
you think of Modestus, but what of the loyalty
of Modestus ? " " You ask," I replied, " what I think ;
but I apprehend that it is not lawful even to put an
inqiiiry in reference to a matter which has been judicially
decided." He was silenced. I received praise and con-
gratulations for not having injured my reputation by an
answer which might have been of advantage to me, but
would have been dishonourable, and for having at the
same time escaped involving myself in the snares of such
an insiduous query.

So it was that, just now, with a terrified conscience, he
laid hold of Cajcilius Celer, and next of Fabius Justus,
with a request that they would restore him to my good
graces. Not satisfied with this, he made his way to
Spurinna ; to him he says in a suppliant tone, most
abject as he always is when he is frightened, " Pray do
see Pliny at his house in the morning — oh, but very early
iu the morning— for I can't bear this anxiety any longer ;
and contrive by any means whatever to avert his anger ! "
I was awake when a message arrived from Spurinna : " I
am coming to see you." I sent back word that I would
rather go to him. "We met in the Portico of Li via on
our way to each other. He set forth what Eegulus had
charged him with, to which he added his own prayers to
the same effect, though sparingly, as became a man of
such excellence when pleading for one of a very opposite
character. I replied, " You shall yourself judge as to the
message which you think should be taken back to llegulus.

6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

It would be wrong in me to deceive yon. I am expecting
Mauricus (he had not yet returned from exile), so I am
not able to answer you anything either way, proposing
to do what he shall decide. For in a resolution of this
kind it is proper tliat he should lead, and that / should
follow."

A few days afterwards, Eegulus in person met me in
the course of my attendance at the Praetor's. After pur-
suing me thither, he sought for a private interview. " He
was afraid," he said, " that I harboured a recollection of
an observation once made by him in the course of a trial
before the Centumviri, when replying to Satrius Eufus
and myself : ' Satrius Eufus, who does oiot try to emulate
Cicero, and who is satisfied with the eloquence of our
epoch.' " I answered that I understood now, upon his
own confession, that this was said ill-naturedly, otherwise
it might have been taken in a complimentary sense. " I
do, indeed," said I, " try to emulate Cicero, nor am I satis-
fied with the eloquence of our epoch. Tor I look on it as
the height of folly not to propose to one's self in every case
the best models for imitation. But you, who remember
this trial, how is it you have forgotten that in which you
asked me what I thought of the loyalty of Mettius
Modestus ? " His extreme pallor was noticeable, though
he is naturally pale, and he stammered out, " I asked the
question not with the view of harming you, but Modestus."
Observe the barbarity of the fellow, who does not conceal
that he wished to harm an exile ! He appended a most
admirable reason ! " He wrote," says he, " in a certain
letter which was read aloud in Domitian's presence, ' Ee-
gulus, the greatest scoundrel that walks on two legs ; ' "
which, to be sure, Modestus had written, with the most
perfect truth.

This was about the end of oiir discourse ; and, indeed,
I did not wish to go any further, that I might preserve
complete freedom of action till the arrival of Mauricus.
It does not escape me that Eegulus is hard to upset. He

BOOK I. 7

is rich, lias a party, is courted by many, and feared by still
more : and fear is commonly stronger than love. Yet it
may so happen that the whole fabric will be broken up
and fall to ruin : for the favour of bad men is as unstable
as are the men themselves. However, to keep on repeat-
ing the same thing, I am waiting for Mauricus. He is a
man of solidity and judgment, informed by a large experi-
ence, and competent to take measure of the future by his
knowledge of the past. Whether I make a move or re-
main quiet, I shall be acting with good reason, if under
his guidance. This much I have written to you, because
it was right that, on account of our mutual regard, you
should be made acquainted not only with all my actions
and words, but my plans as well.

(6.)

To Cornelius Tacitus.

Laugh you will, and laugh you may. I, the Pliny of
your acquaintance, have captured three boars, and mag-
nificent fellows too. " What, you I " you say. Yes, I ;
yet not so as entirely to deviate from my inert and seden-
tary ways. I sat by the nets, and handy to me were —
not a hunting-spear or a lance, but my pen and my
tablets ! I thought over a subject and made my notes
about it ; so that, though my hands were empty, I might
take back my note-book at any rate well filled. This
mode of study is not one to be despised. It is wonderful
how the mind is roused by bodily activity and movement.
Moreover, the woods all around, and the solitude, and the
very silence which is observed in the chase, are great in-
centives to reflection. Accordingly, when you go a-hunt-
ing you will do well, after my example, to take with you,
not only a hamper and a flask, but tablets into the bar-
gain. You will find by experience that Minerva as well
as Diana rambles over the mountains.

8 , PLINY'S LETTERS.

(7-)
To OCTAVIUS EUFUS.

Just see what a pinnacle you have placed me on, when
assigning to me the same power and authority as Homer
to highest and mightiest Jove —

" Great Jove consents to half the Chief's request,
But Heaven's eternal doom denies the rest," *

since I, too, can reply to your prayer by a like nod of
assent or shake of the head. For in the same way as it
is allowable for me, particularly at your request, to excuse
myself from assisting the Baetici against a single in-
dividual, so, on the other hand, it would accord neither
with my good faith nor with my consistency, which you
so highly value, to appear against a province bound to me
in times past by so many good offices, so many labours —
I may even say so many dangers — undergone by me on
their behalf. I will therefore preserve this mean : of two
courses, one or other of which you plead for, choosing rather
that which will satisfy not only your desires, but your judg-
ment as well.f For I ought not to consider what you, my
excellent friend, wish for, at the present moment, so much
as what you are likely to approve of in the long-run. I
hope to be at Eome about the Ides of October, and to
confirm further in person to Gallus on the strength of
your honour and mine what I now write. You are at
liberty, however, at once to guarantee him as to my in-
tentions.

" Then with his sable brow he gave the nod."

O"

Why not keep on dealing out Homeric verses to you so
long as you won't suffer me to deal with some of your
own ? Yet I so ardently long for them, that I think they

* Horn. II. xvi. 250. of his declining to do this, to abstain

■)• Octavius Rufus seems to have from appearing on the other side,

asked Pliny to appear for Gallus Pliny refuses the former, but assents

against the Baetici ; or, in the event to the latter request.

BOOK I. 9

are the only pay which could bribe me to the extent even
of appearing against the Baetici. I had almost forgotten,
what it would have been too bad to forget, that your ex-
cellent dates came to hand : they will now be rivals to
the figs and mushrooms.

(8.)
■■' To Satueninus.

Most opportunely has your letter reached me, in which
you urge me to send you something of my composition, the
very thing I had proposed to do. So you have clapped
spurs to a willing horse ; and you have at one and the
same time deprived yourself of all excuse for declining a
troublesome job, and me of all delicacy about requiring it
of you. Wliy should I be shy in availing myself of what
has been offered me ; or why should you be annoyed at
having brought the business upon yourself ? You must
not, however, expect anything in the shape of new work
from an idle man. In fact, I am about to ask you again
to give your attention to the speech made by me to my
townsmen on the occasion of dedicating a library to their
use. I remember, indeed, that you have already made
some comments on it, but of a general kind. Therefore I
now ask you not only to direct your attention to it as a
whole, but to criticise it in detail with your usual acumen.
It will be open to me, even after correction, either to
publish or to suppress it. Nay, rather, it is probable that
this very hesitation of mine will be brought to a resolve
one way or the other by taking account of your revision ;
since this will either discover the work to be unworthy of
publication by the numerous retouches to bo made, or in
the course of ascertaining this very pouit, will make it
worthy of publication.

However, the causes of this hesitation of mine arise not
so much from what I have written, as from the nature itself
of the subject-matter. For it is, so to speak, a trifle too

lo PLINY'S LETTERS.

much in the boasting and exalted line. And my modesty
must be at a disadvantage — simple and subdued as my
style itself may be — when I am compelled to discourse of
my own largesses, as well as those of my ancestors. This
is a doubtful and hazardous topic, even when the necessity
of the case panders to it. Indeed, seeing that the praises
of other folks are not commonly listened to with over-
willing ears, how difficult it must be to prevent a speech
from appearing irksome, which treats of the speaker
and his family. For we are envious not only of virtue
itself, but still more of its glory and publication ; and such
good actions as lie buried in obscurity and silence are
precisely those which are the least misrepresented and
carped at. For which reason I have often asked myself
whether this production, whatever its worth, should be
regarded as a composition for my own private use, or for
that of the public as well. Its private use is suggested
by the fact that many things necessary for the prosecu-
tion of an affair no longer retain the same advantage
or charm when the affair in question is once completed.
However, not to go further for examples, what could be
more advantageous than to set forth at length, and that
too in writing, the grounds of my liberality; the gains
of which were, firstly, that I dwelt long in ennobling
thoughts ; next, that the more I pondered them, the more
deeply sensible of their nobleness did I become ; lastly,
that I ensured myself against repentance, which so often
follows on impulsive generosity. The result was a kind
of exercise in the practice of despising money. For whereas
all men are chained by nature to the guardianship of their
fortunes, I, on the contrary, was released from these com-
mon fetters of avarice by my deep and long-matured love
of liberality ; and my munificence seemed destined to be
all the more praiseworthy from the fact of my having
been drawn to it by no sudden impulse, but deliberately.

Add to this, that I was not undertaking to furnish
games or gladiatorial shows, but an annual fund for the

BOOK I. II

support of children born of free parents. In fact, pleasures
which address themselves to the eye and the ear are so
far from needing to be commended, that it would seem
the part of a speaker rather to restrain than to excite
them ; whereas to get any one to undertake willingly the
worry and toil of education — this is to be accomplished,
not by pay only, but further by the most artful verbal
encouragements. If doctors use coaxing expressions to
recommend their wholesome but unpalatable recipes, how
much more did it become one, labouring for the public
interests, to employ gracious language in introducing to
notice a benefaction of the highest utility, but not to the
same extent popular. And. especially when I had to
strive that a boon bestowed on parents should be approved
by those also who had no children ; and that the privilege
accorded to a few should be patiently waited for • and
merited by the remainder.

As, however, on that occasion, in wishing to have the
intention and effect of my gift understood, I studied the
public advantage rather than personal display ; so now, in
publishing, I am fearful of possibly seeming to serve my
own credit rather than the interests of others. Moreover,
I bear in mind how much more noble-spirited it is to set
the rewards of well-doing in one's conscience rather than
in fame. Glory should follow, not be run after ; nor, if
by any chance it does not follow, is that which has merited
it the less excellent. But persons who set off their bene-
factions in speeches are believed not to be proclaiming
them because they conferred them, but to have conferred
them in order to proclaim them. So, that which would
liave sounded magnificent from the lips of another,
vanishes into nothing when the doer recounts it. Men,
when they cannot destroy an action, will fall foul of
its eulogy. Accordingly, if you do deeds, to be silent
about, 'tis the deeds themselves will be blamed ; if you
do deeds to be praised, and are not silent over them, 'tis
you yourself will be blamed.

12 PLINY'S LETTERS.

As regards myself, however, there is one special con-
sideration which embarrasses me. This particular speech
was delivered by me not to the public, but to the De-
curions ; * not in the open-air, but in the council-chamber.
I fear, then, that it will be scarcely consistent, after shun-
ning the applause and acclamations of the public in my
spoken discourse, to court now the same manifestations in
a published one : after interposing the entrance and the
walls of the council-chamber between myself and that very
populace in whose interests I was acting, so as not to in-
cur any appearance of currying their favour, now, to be
running after those who have nothing to gain from my
liberality except the example, and, as it were, parading it
in their faces.f You are informed of the causes of my
hesitation. However, I shall follow your opinion, since
your authority will be to me a sufhcient reason.

(9-)

To Mmucius Tundanus.

It is astonishing how good an account can be given, or
seem to be given, of each separate day spent in Rome, yet
that this is not the case with regard to a number of days
taken in conjunction. If you were to ask any one, " What
have you been doing to-day ? " he would reply, " I have
attended at the ceremony of a youth's coming of age. I
have helped to celebrate a betrothal or a wedding. One
has invited me to the signing of his will, another to attend
a trial on his behalf, another to a consultation." These
things seem indispensable at the time when they are done,
but when you come to reflect that you have been doing
them day after day, they strike you as mere frivolities ;
and much more is this the case when one has retired into
the country. For, then, the recollection steals over you,
" How many days have I wasted, and in what dreary

* The members of a local senate, t I read ohvia ostentatione, not
something like our town-couucillors. (with Keil) adsentatione.

BOOK I. 13

pursuits ! " This is what happens to me as soon as I am in
my house at Laurentum, and am reading or writing, or even
merely looking after my bodily health, that stay on which
the mind reposes. I hear nothing, I say nothing, M-hich
one need be ashamed of hearing or saying. No one about
me gossips ill-naturedly of any one else, and I for my part
censure no one, except myself, however, when my writ-
ings are not up to the mark. I am troubled by no hopes
and no fears, disquieted by no rumours : I converse with
myself only and with my books. What a true and
genuine life, what a sweet and honest repose, one might
almost say, more attractive than occupation of any kind.
Oh, sea and shore, veritable secret haunt of the Muses, how
many thoughts do you suggest to the imagination and
dictate to the pen ! In the same way do you too, my
friend, at the first opportunity, turn your back upon all
that bustle, and idle hurry-scurry, and utterly inane
drudgery, and give yourself up to study or even to repose.
It is better — as friend Atilius says, with as much wisdom
as wit — to have nothing to do than to do nothing.

(10.)

To Attius Clemens.

If ever the polite arts flourished in our city, they are
particularly flourishing at the present time. Of this
there are many distinguished illustrations : one would
sufiice — Euphrates the philosopher. I knew him inti-
mately, in his domestic interior, in Syria, when in early
youth I served in the army there, and laboured to gain
his affection, though to be sure there was no need of
labouring, for he is forthcoming and accessible and full
of the courtesy which he preaches. And I only pray that
1 may have fulfilled the hopes which he then conceived
of me in the same degree as he has added to his own
virtues. Or perhaps it is that I admire them more now
in consequence of appreciating them better; though to

14 PLINY'S LETTERS.

be sure I do not even now sufficiently appreciate them.
For as it is only an artist that can judge of a painter,
engraver, or statuary, so a sage can be thoroughly under-
stood only by a sage. As far, however, as is given me to
see, there are many qualities in Euphrates which shine
forth so conspicuously as to attract and affect even persons
df moderate learning. He disputes with subtlety, solidity,
and elegance : often he goes so far as to reproduce the
well-known sublimity and copiousness of Plato. His
language is rich and varied, and particularly agreeable, so
as to lead on and impel those even who fight against it.
Add to this that he is tall of stature, of noble counte-
nance, with flowing locks and a huge white beard : all of
which may be thought mere accidents of no account, yet
they add greatly to the veneration which he inspires.
There is no squalor in his attire, nothing of moroseness
about him, but much grave earnestness : his approach is
productive of respect, not awe. His sanctity of life is
remarkable, and no less so is his affability. He inveighs
against vices, not individuals ; sinners he reclaims rather
than chides. You follow his admonitions attentively,
hanging on his lips, and longing to be convinced even
after he has succeeded in convincing you.

Further, he has three children, two of them sons, whom
he has brought up with the utmost care. His father-in-
law is Pompeius Julianus, a man of great mark, as well
in the general course of his life, as above all in this one
particular : himself a magnate of his province, with a
choice of many brilliant matches, he chose for his son-in-
law one who was a magnate not in rank but in wisdom.
Yet why speak further of a man whose company I am not
able to enjoy ? Is it to torment myself the more for not
being able to do so ? For I am engrossed in the discharge
of an office as highly irksome as it is important. I sit
on the bench, countersign memorials, make up accounts,
and write a vast number of most unliterary letters.* I am

* He was at this time Prefect of the Treasury.

BOOK I. 15

in the habit of complaining to Euphrates occasionally — for
how seldom do I get the chance of doing even this ! — about
my employment. He consoles me, and goes so far as to
assert that it is a function, and indeed the noblest function
of philosophy, to conduct public affairs, to try, to judge, to
exhibit and exercise justice, and to put in practice what
these very philosophers teach. Yet one thing alone he
cannot convince me of : that it is better to be thus engaged,
than to consume whole days in listening to him and learn-
ing from him. So all the more do I exhort you, who have
the spare time, directly you come to town (and you ought
to come sooner on this account), to put yourself into his
hands for the purpose of being perfected and finished. I
do not, as so many do, envy others the boons lacking to
myself, but, on the contrary, experience a certain sense
of pleasure on observing that the advantages which are
denied to me abound to the benefit of my friends.

(II.)
To Fabius Justus.

'Tis now some time since you have sent me any letters.
"There is nothing," say you, "for me to write about."
Well, then, write this, that there is nothing for you to
write about : or merely that with which your former
letters used to begin. " If you are well, all's right. I am
well." That will do for me, for it is of the highest interest.
Yout hink me joking ? I ask in all seriousness. Let me
know what you are doing: a matter I cannot remain
ignorant about without the gravest anxiety.

(12.)
To Calestpjus Tiro.

I have suffered a very heavy loss, if parting with so
great a man can be called a loss.* Cornelius Paifus is

* Pliny's meaning here is uncertain, ference to Book ii. Eisistle i: Si
Ernesti explains the words by a re- tamai fas est aut flere aut omnino

1 6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

dead, and by his own hand too, which intensifies my
grief. No kind of death is so lamentable as that which
seems to be neither natural nor necessary. For, however
it may be that, in the case of such as perish by disease,
there is a stronsf consolation to be derived from a mere
sense of the unavoidable: in regard to those who are
carried off by a voluntary death, there is an incurable
grief in the thought that they might have lived much
longer. Cornelius indeed was driven to this resolve by
the force of reason, which to philosophers stands in the
place of necessity, though he had many incentives to life,
the best of consciences, the best of reputations, the highest
influence, not to speak of a daughter, a wife, a grandson,
sisters, and, in addition to so many pledges, a number of
true friends. But he had been tormented by such a pro-
tracted malady, that all these great enhancements of life
w^ere outweighed by the considerations which made for
death.

In his three-and-thirtieth year, as he used to tell me
himself, he was seized with gout in the feet. In his case
it was hereditary, for diseases, like other things, are often
transmitted in a kind of succession. As long as he was
in the vigour of his age, he conquered it and kept it
under by abstemiousness and self-restraint; in the end,
when it increased upon him with his years, he bore up
against it by strength of will, though tortured and tor-
mented in the most cruel and incredible fashion. For the
pain was by this time no longer confined to his feet,
as before, but permeated all his limbs.

I called upon him in the days of Domitian, when he
was lying at his house near town. His slaves retired
from his bedroom, for so he would have it, whenever one
of his intimate friends came in ; even his wife, though
capable of being intrusted with any secret, used to with-

mortem rocare qua tanti viri mor- the mortality rather than the life of
talitas mariis finita quam vita est, such an illustrious man ? "
" Can that be called death which ends

BOOK I.

17

draw. After casting a glance around, " Why," said he,
" do you suppose that I bear these dreadful pains so long ?
In order that I may survive that Irigand* if only for one
day ! " If you could have given him a hody to match his
soul, he would have carried into execution what he had in
his mind.f However, Heaven granted the prayer, and,
feeling that he could now die at peace and a free man,
he severed the many but slighter ties which bound him to
life. The disease had increased upon him, though he
endeavoured to mitigate it by abstinence. His determina-
tion rescued him from its persistency. Two, three, four
days had already passed. All the time he refused food.
His wife, Hispulla, despatched to me a common friend, C.
Geminius, with the melancholy news that Corellius had
determined to die, and was not to be prevailed upon by
her own or her daughter's prayers ; that I was the only
person remaining who could recall him to life. I flew to
him, and had almost reached his door when Julius Atticus,
sent by the same Hispulla, announced to me that by this
time not even I could have any effect on him, with such
obstinacy had he gone on hardening in his purpose.
Indeed, to the physician tendering him food he had said
" KeKpiKa," J a M^ord which left in my mind as much
regret as admiration. I think what a friend, what a man
I have lost. To be sure, he had completed his sixty-
seventh year, an age sufficiently advanced even for the
strongest, I know it. He has escaped from an unceasing
malady. I know it. He has died, leaving a surviving
family, and his country, which was dearer to him than all
his belongings, in a prosperous condition. I know this
too. Nevertheless, I for my part lament his death just
as though it were that of a man young and full of
vigour, I lament it, moreover — think me weak if you like
— on my own account. For I have lost a witness to my

* Domitian. " he would have done what he wished

+ He would have killed the tyrant, to do," i.e., he would have survived

This must be the meaning of fecisset Domitian. For he did survive him.

quod oplabat; not, as some render, J " I have made my decision 1 "

B

r 8 PLINY'S LE TTERS.

I

life,* a guide and master. To sum up, I will repeat what
in the freshness of my grfef I said to my friend Calvisius,
" I fear I may live more carelessly for the future." So I
pray you administer some consolation to me — not of this
kind, " He was an old man. He was in feeble health ; " for
all this I know ; but something new, something weighty,
such as I have never heard and never read. For what
I have heard and read occurs to me naturally, but is over-
mastered by the greatness of my sorrow.

(13.)

To Socius Senecio.

The present year has brought us a great supply of poets.
During the whole month of April there was hardly a day
when some one did not recite. I am glad that learning
flourishes, that men of genius come forward and show
themselves, albeit the audiences are indolent in their
attendance. ' Many remain sitting out in the public places,
wasting the time when they ought to be listening in gossip.
They even send to inquire, at intervals, whether the
reader has yet gone in, whether he has got through his
prefatory remarks, whether he has turned over the greater
part of his manuscript. Then at last they come in, even
then in a lazy, loitering way, and after all they do not stay
it out, but go away before the end, some slily and fur-
tively, others quite openly and without disguise. But, by
Hercules, in the time of our fathers, they relate how
Claudius Caesar, when walldng in his palace, heard a
clamour and inquired the cause of it, and on being told
that it was ISTonianus who was reading, presented himself
suddenly and unexpectedly to the reader. Now-a-days,
the idlest people, though they have had a long invitation
and frequent reminders, either do not come at all, or, if
they do come, complain that they have lost a day, just
because they have not lost one. All the more then should

* As to tliis expression, cf. Bk, iv. Letter 17.

BOOK I. ig

we praise and approve those who are not discouraged iu
their zeal for writing and recitation by this Laziness, or
else superciliousness, of their audiences. I for my part
have failed scarcely any one. Most of them to be sure
were friends. Indeed there is hardly a man who loves
literature but what he loves me too. On this account I
have spent a longer time in town than I had intended.
I can now at last return to my country retreat and write
something which shall not be recited, that I may not seem
to have been tlie creditor, instead of the hearer, of those
at whose recitations I was present. For, as in all other
matters, so in this attendance of hearer, the favour ceases
to be a favour, if a return be asked for.

(14.)
To Junius Maueicus.

You ask me to look out for a husband for your brother's
daughter, and you are right in laying this charge on me
in preference to any one else. For you know how greatly
I revered and loved that eminent man, how my youth
was fostered by his counsels, by what commendations too
he brought it about that I should seem worthy of being
commended. You could not give me a more important or
more agreeable commission, nor is there anything which
I could with more propriety undertake, than this selection
of a young man to be the parent of Arulenus Eusticus's
grandchildren.

Yet I should have had to look for him for a long time
if he had not been at hand and provided for you, so to
speak, in the person of Minicius Acilianus, who is most
closely attached to me, as one young man to another (he
being my junior by a few years only), and at the same
time reveres me as an elder. For it is his desire to be
formed and instructed by me in the same way that I used
to be by you two. His home is in Brixia, in that part of
our country which still retains and preserves much of tlie

20 PLINY'S LETTERS.

ancient modesty, sobriety, and even rustic simplicity. His
father is Miuicius Macrinus, a leading man of the eques-
trian order only, because he aspired to nothing higher ;
for having been nominated to Praetorian rank by the
Emperor Vespasian, he persistently chose honourable re-
tirement rather than the pretence, or, if you please, the
dignity which belongs to us. His grandmother, on the
maternal side, is Serrana Procula, from the free town of
Padua. You are acquainted with the manners of the
place. However, Serrana is a model of decorum even to
the Paduans. He is, moreover, blessed with a maternal
uncle, P. Acilius, a man of authority, judgment, and in-
tegrity almost unique. In short, there is nothing in the
whole family which will not be as agreeable to you as
though it were in your own.

Acilianus himself is full of energy and activity, yet ex-
tremely modest withal. He has discharged in succession,
and with the highest distinction, the offices of Quoestor,
Tribune, and Prsetor, so that he has already relieved you
of all necessity of canvassing for him. His countenance
is that of a gentleman, the blood coming readily to his
cheeks, wdiich are not seldom suffused with a blush ; his
whole person is marked by a well-bred elegance and a
kind of senatorial dignity. Now these are points which I
think by no means to be neglected, for they form, as it
were, a tribute due to the chastity of young brides. I
don't know whether to add that his father is possessed of
ample means. For when I picture to myself you, for
whom I am seeking a son-in-law, I am disposed to be
silent on the subject of means. Yet, when I consider the
prevailing manners, and indeed the laws of the state
(which enact as of the first importance that men's fortunes
shall be examined into), it seems to me that here too is a
thing not to be passed over. And, to be sure, to any one
who thinks of posterity, and that a numerous one, this also
must be a subject of calculation in the assortment of
marriages.

I

BOOK I. 21

You may perhaps think that I have yielded to par-
tiality, and have put all this higher than the facts com-
port ; but I pledge my word you will find everything far
beyond my representations. It is true that I feel for the
young man the ardent regard which he merits ; but not
to over-weight him with praises is in itself the act of a
friend.

(15.)

To Septicius Clarus.

Harkee, friend, you engage yourself to dine with me,
and never put in an appearance. We pronounce sentence
on you! You shall reimburse to the last farthing our
expenses — no trifle, let me tell you. There was a lettuce
apiece provided, three snails per man, ditto two eggs,
sweet cake with mead and snow (this last you will have
to reckon, and among the first items too, since it melted
in the dish), olives, beet-root, gourds, onions, and a thou-
sand like delicacies. You would have heard a comedian,
or a reader, or a lute-player, or, such is my liberality, all
three! But you, at some one or other's, have preferred
oysters, tit-bits of pork, sea-urchins, dancing girls from
Gades. You shall suffer for it ; I won't say how. You
have acted cruelly. You have punished, if not yourself,
at any rate me ; yes, and on second thoughts, yourself too.
How we should have jested, laughed, improved our wits !
You will dine more sumptuously at many houses, nowhere
with more gaiety, with more absence of pretence, with
greater unreserve, than at mine. In short, make the ex-
periment ; and, after that, if you don't decline other folk's
invitations for mine, I give you leave to decline mine for
ever.

(i6.)

To Erucius.

I had a great regard for Pompeius Saturninus — I mean
our friend of that name — and used to laud his genius even

23 PLINY'S LETTERS.

before becoming acquainted with its versatility, flexibility,
and many-sidedness. Now, however, he has taken a
complete hold of me — he captivates and enthrals me. I
have heard him pleading in court with spirit and fire,
and with no less polish and elegance, w^hether in the de-
livery of prepared or impromptu speeches. You are pre-
sented with numerous and suitable aphorisms, an imposing
and harmonious arrangement of matter, words that ring
on the ear with the stamp of antiquity. All this is won-
derfully pleasing as it Hows on in a kind of impetuous
stream ; and the same things please, too, if you return to
them. You will feel as I do when you read his speeches,
and will readily compare them with those of any of the
ancients, who are the objects of his emulation. In his
histories, however, he will gratify you still more, whether
by his conciseness, lucidity, or graceful style, or else by
the very splendour and sublimity of his diction. For in
his historical speeches, he is the same as in his spoken
orations, only more compressed, more concise, more terse.
Besides, he writes verses like those of Catullus and Calvus
— really and truly like those of Catullus and Calvus. How
full of sprightliness they are, of sweetness, of pungency,
of love ! To be sure he intersperses (designedly, however)
these smooth and delicate verses of his with some of a
rather harsher kind ; but this, too, is after the fashion of
Catullus and Calvus.

He read me recently some letters, saying they were his
wife's. I fancied myself listening to Plautus or Terence
in prose. Whether they are his wife's, as he affirms, or his
own, as he denies them to be, he is entitled to equal
credit ; in the one case for producing such compositions,
in the other case, for turning his wife — a mere girl
when he married her — into such a learned and finished
woman.

I make him my companion, then, through the whole
day : I read him before writing and after writing, and
even when unbending my mind — always the same yet

BOOK I. 23

always new. And I exhort and admonish you to do the
same. Nor is it just that the fact of his being alive
should stand in the way of his works. Can it be that, if
he had flourished among those whom we have never
beheld, we should be hunting up not only his books but
statuettes of him ; and yet that this same man, because
he is now present among us, should find his glory and
credit enfeebled through our having, so to speak, too
much of liim ? But surely it would be wrong and ill-
natured not to admire a man in all respects worthy of
admiration, just because it is our good fortune to see, to
talk with, to he&r, to embrace him, when besides merely
praising him we can love him as well.*

(17.)
To Cornelius Titianus.

Loyalty and duty are still a care to men ; there are still
those who play the part of friends even to the dead.
Titinius Capito has obtained from our Emperor an
authority to put up in the Forum a statue of L. Silanus.
'Tis a noble thing and deserving of all praise to make
such a use of the prince's friendship, to try what one's
interest is worth by seeking honours for others than one's
self. It is quite in Capito's way to pay respect to great
men. It is wonderful how reverentially and lovingly —
in his own house, where he is at liberty to do sof — he
treats the images of a Brutus, a Cassius, a Cato. The
same individual has set forth the lives of all the most
distinguished men in admirable poetry. You may be sure
that he who so loves the virtues of others is himself replete
with numerous virtues. So the honour which was his
due has been paid to L. Silanus, whose immortality Capito
has provided for, while at the same time providing for his

* 'Wliich would not be the case if have been allowable to erect statues
he were dead. in public to anti-imperialists.

+ Even under Trajan it would not

24 PLINY'S LETTERS.

own. For it is no greater honour and distinction to enjoy
a statue in the Forum of the Eoman people than it is to
place one there.

(i8.)
To Suetonius Tkanquillus.

You write that you have been terrified by a dream, and
are afraid of experiencing some ill-success in your law-
suit ; so you beg me to apply for an adjournment, and to
get off for a few days — at any rate for the first day. It is
a difficult matter, but I will try what can be done. " For
dreams descend from Jove ! " It is of some consequence,
however, whether you are in the habit of dreaming what
comes true or the reverse. To me, as I think over a
dream of mine, this subject of your fear seems to portend
an excellent issue to your suit.

I had undertaken the cause of Junius Pastor, when, in
my sleep, my mother-in-law appeared to me, in a suppliant
posture at my feet, beseeching me not to plead. Now I
was about to appear, while yet a stripling, before the
four Centumviral courts,* against men of the highest
influence in the state, and, what is more, against friends
of Csesar — circumstances each of which singly was enough
to frighten me out of my wits after such a sad dream. I
did, however, plead, reckoning, in the well-known words,
that

" The best of omens is my country's cause."

For here my honour seemed to me to stand in the place
of my country, and, if possible, to be dearer to me than my
country.f The issue was favourable, and, more than that,
it was that very speech which opened for me the ears of
men and the gates of fame.

In like manner, consider whether you also, with this

* See Bk. vi. Letter 33, note. Homer), and anything, if there could

+ Literall}', "My honour seemed be anything, which might be dearer

to me to be my country (to stand in to me than my country.''

the place of Trdrpr], in the line of

BOOK I. 25

example before you, may not give to that dream of yours
a favourable turn. Or, if you think it safer to follow
the cautious man's maxim, " What you are in doubt about,
don't do," why then reply to that effect. I will find out
some device, and will so plead for you, that you shall be
able to plead when you choose. To be sure your case is
not the same as mine. A trial before the Centumviri
cannot be put off for any reason : one such as yours —
though with difiiculty — still can be put off.

(I9-)

To EOMATIUS FlEMUS.

You are my townsman and my schoolfellow, and have
been my associate from the outset of life. Your father was
on terms of intimacy with my mother and my uncle,* and
with me too as far as the difference between our ages per-
mitted. These are grave and weighty reasons why I should
undertake to add to your position. Now the fact of your
being a Decurion in our parts sufficiently indicates that you
possess a fortune of a hundred thousand sesterces.-f- In
order, then, that we may have the advantage of seeing you
not merely a Decurion but also a Eoman knight, I offer you
three hundred thousand sesterces to make up the knightly
fortune. The length of our friendship is a guarantee that
ymi will not forget this service. Nor will / so much as
make this suggestion to you — one which it would be my
duty to make, if I did not know you would so act of your
own accord — that you should enjoy the dignity conferred
on you by me, with all possible discretion, as being con-
ferred hy me. For all the more jealously should an
honour be guarded when at the same time the kindly act
of a friend has to be preserved from being disgraced.

* Avunculus, his maternal uncle; t About £800. For the Zlecurions.
the elder Pliny. see Letter 8, note.

26 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(20.)

To CoKNELius Tacitus.

I have frequent discussions with a certain learned and
experienced person, who, in the matter of pleading causes,
likes nothing so much as brevity. And I confess that
this should be kept to, if the cause permits. Otherwise,
it is a dereliction of one's duty to pass over things which
outrht to be said: it is a dereliction even to touch
cursorily and briefly on points which ought to be incul-
cated, imprinted, repeated. For to most kinds of argu-
ments a certain strength and weight are added by dwell-
ing on them at greater length, and, as steel into the body,
so an oration is driven into the mind, not more by the
blow than by the slow lengthening of it.

Hereupon my friend plies me with authorities, and
holds out to me the orations of Lysias, among those in
Greek, and, of our Eoman ones, those of the Gracchi and
Cato, most of whose speeches are certainly concise and
short. To Lysias I oppose Demosthenes, ^schines. Hype-
rides, and many others : to the Gracchi and Cato, Pollio,
Caesar, Cselius, Marcus Tullius* especially, the best of
whose speeches is said to be the one which is the longest.
And, by Hercules, like other good things, so a good book
is the better for being longer. You see how statues, images,
paintings, in fine, the forms of men and of many animals,
of trees even, if only they be beautiful, are enhanced by
nothing so much as by their size. The same thing is true
of orations; and even books themselves receive a kind of
additional authority and beauty from their bulk.

These arguments, and many others which are usually
urged by me to the same effect, my friend — who is hard
to hold, and slips from one in discussiont — manages to
evade by contending that these very men whose orations
I rely on did not speak at such length as they published.
I am of the opposite opinion. Proofs are to be found in

* Cicero. + A metaphor taken from the arena.

BOOK I.

27

a number of orations by a number of orators, as well as
those of Cicero for Murena and for Varenus, in which a
short and bare formal notification, so to speak, of certain
charges is intimated under their heads only ; from which
it is plain that he must have spoken a great deal which
he left out when publishing. The same Cicero tells us
that on behalf of Cluentius he argued the whole cause
from beginning to end, without assistance, in accordance
with the old rule;* also that he pleaded four days for C.
Cornelius. We cannot doubt, then, that what was spoken
by him with greater diffuseness, as must necessarily have
been the case in a discourse of several days, was after-
wards cut down, pruned, and compressed into a single
volume, a large one indeed, still a single one.

However, it will be said that a good sipeecli is one thing
and a good oration is another.t I know that many think
so. But I, though perhaps mistaken, am persuaded that it
is possible for a speech to be a good one which will not
make a good published oration, while it is impossible that
a good oration should not make a good speech. For the
oration is the model, and, so to speak, archetype of the
speech. Hence, in all the best of them, we find a thou-
sand extemporaneous turns, even in those which we know
to have been published only ; as, for instance, that against
Verres. " But the artist, wdiatever was his name ? You
are quite right in your reminder. It was, as they said,
Polycletus." It follows that the most perfect speech is
that which is most closely moulded in the likeness of an
oration : if, that is, the just and proper time be accorded
it. Of course, if this be refused, the judge will be greatly
to blame, the speaker not at all. This opinion of mine is
confirmed by the laws which allow the amplest time and
inculcate on speakers not brevity but copiousness, that is
to say, diligence, which brevity must fail to exliibit, save
in causes of the narrowest dimensions.

* Which allowed unlimited time. the hearers only. Oratio, an oration
t Actio, a speech intended to affect prepared for publication.

28 PLINY'S LETTERS.

I will add what experience, the best of masters, has

taught me. I have often pleaded in court, often sat as

judge, and often been called in as an assessor. One man

is moved by one thing, and another by another, and very

often small matters lead to the greatest consequences.

The powers of judging and dispositions of men vary.

Hence those who have listened together to the same cause

often arrive at opposite conclusions, and, if sometimes at

the same conclusion, yet from opposite mental processes.

Besides, every one is inclined to favour his own ingenuity,

and when he hears from another what had previously

occurred to himself, he embraces it as most convincing.

All, then, should have something addressed to them which

they can take in and recognise as their own. Eegulus

once said to me, when we were engaged together, " You

think you must follow up every point in the suit. I at

once see the ' throat ' * of the case and grasp that." He

grasps, to be sure, the part he has selected, but in the

selection he often makes a mistake. So I answered that

it was possible the knee or the ankle might be where

he thought the throat was. "But I," I continued, "who

cannot make sure of the ' throat,' handle every part and

try every part : in short, leave no stone unturned." And

just as in agriculture I attend to the cultivation, not of

my vineyards alone, but my plantations as well, nor of

these alone but of my fields also, and as in these same

fields I sow not spelt or wheat only, but barley, beans, and

the other plants, so in a speech I scatter far and wide

many seeds, as it were, in order to reap whatever happens

to come up. For indeed the tempers of the judges are

not less obscure, uncertain, and deceptive than those of

the seasons and the soils. Yet I do not forget that that

great orator Pericles was lauded in these terms by Eupolis

the writer of comedies : —

" Swift-flowing were his words, and yet withal
Softest persuasion sat upon his lips,

* A common metaphor of Homan pleaders. As we say, " the vital part."

BOOK I. 29

Such was bis charm ; and he alone of all

Who spoke could, si^eakiug, leave his stiug behind."

But Pericles himself could not have obtained this
"persuasiveness" and this "power of charming" by mere
brevity or rapidity, or both (for they are very different
things), without the highest natural genius for oratory,
Eor to delight and persuade demands copiousness of
speech and time for speaking. Moreover, he alone is able
to " leave a sting " in the minds of his hearers who not
only pricks with it, but fixes it in. Add what another
comic writer says of the same Pericles —

" He lightened, thundered, and confounded Greece."

Now it is not a maimed and stunted oration, but one
that is full, majestic, elevated, which can thunder, lighten,
and, in short, raise a universal perturbation and confusion.

" But the mean is the best." Who denies it ? Yet no
less does he fail to preserve the mean who speaks short of
what is due than he who exceeds it ; no less the speaker
of too restricted than the one of too enlarged a compass.
Accordingly you often hear not only the observation,
" Out of all bounds and excessive ! " but also this one,
"Jejune and feeble!" The one is said to have gone
beyond his subject-matter, the other not to have com-
pleted it. Each is equally at fault ; but the former
sins through feebleness, the latter through excess of
vigour, which is the vice not perhaps of a more cultivated
but assuredly of a more powerful nature. Yet, in saying
this, I do not approve of that " unbridled talker " * in
Homer, but rather of him

" Who, when he speaks, what elocution flows,
Soft as the fleeces of the wintry snows," t

Not but what another character is greatly to my taste —

" With words succinct yet clear." J
If, however, the choice were given me, I should prefer

* Thersites. t Ulysses. + Menelaus.

30 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the former kind of oratory, "like the wintry snows,"
that is thick-pouring, continuous, abounding, and, in fine,
coming from the gods and the heavens. " But to many
short speeches are more agreeable." So they are ; to do-
nothing folks, whose lazy whims it would be ridiculous
to look to, as if they could decide the point. If you took
counsel of these people, it w^ould be best not merely to
speak briefly, but not to speak at all.

Such is, up to the present, my opinion, which I shall
change if you dissent from it ; but in that case I shall ask
you to explain clearly wliy it is that you dissent. For
tliough I ought to give in to your authority, yet it seems
to me that in a matter of such importance it would
be preferable to yield not to authority but to reason.
Accordingly, if you do not think me wrong, write to that
effect — as short a letter as you please — still write, for
you will be confirming my judgment. If you do think
me wrong, prepare a prodigiously long one. But haven't
I bribed you by imposing on you the necessity of a short
letter only in case you agree with me, of a prodigiously
long one if you differ ?

(21.)

To Paternus.
I place much confidence in the judgment of your eyes
as well as in that of your mind ; not because you have
much discernment (so don't flatter yourself), but because
you have as much as I have ; though, by the by, tliat is
a good deal. Joking apart, I consider the slaves bought
for me, on your advice, to be proper fellows. It remains
to be seen whether they are honest, a point which in the
matter of slaves is judged of by the ears better than by
the eyes.*

* I.e., we shall learn this from the character with them. It is possible

character which others will give of that Pliuy had not yet seen them ;

them. Doring supposes this letter in that case credo will mean, " I can

to contain a gentle rebuke to Paternus believe that," " I have no doubt that,"

for having bought slaves of good instead of "I consider," as given in

appearance, but neglecting to get a the text.

BOOK I. 31

(22.)

To Catilius Severus.

I have now been tied to Eome for a considerable time,
and in a state of great agitation too. I am distressed by
the long and persistent illness of Titius Aristo, the object of
my especial admiration and regard. He is indeed unsur-
passed in respectability of character, in virtue, in learning ;
so that it is not so much one man as letters themselves
and all the liberal arts which seem to be in the highest
degree imperilled in the person of one man. What a
knowledge he has of the law, whether relating to the state
or to individuals ! Wliat a quantity of matters, what a
quantity of precedents, what a mass of ancient lore, does
he hold in his head ! There is nothing you want to learn
which he is not able to teach you. To me assuredly,
whenever I am searching for some out-of-the-way infor-
mation, he is a treasury of knowledge. To begin with,
how reliable are his observations, and how weighty too,
how modest and becoming his caution ! What is there
that he does not know offhand ? Yet he constantly hesi-
tates and deliberates, owing to the conflict of reasons
which, with his keen and powerful judgment, he traces up
to their sources and first principles, distinguishing between
them and balancing them. Add to this his abstemiousness
at table and the sobriety of his attire. His very chamber
and his couch itself always seem to me, when I look at
them, to present a kind of image of old-world simplicity.
All these qualities are set off by the grandeur of his soul,
which does nothing with a view to display, and everything
with a view to conscience, and seeks for the reward of
virtuous deeds not from the applause of the vulgar, but
from the deeds themselves. In short, none of your philo-
sophers, who ad-vertise their love of wisdom by their external
appearance, will easily stand a comparison with such a
man as this. He does not, to be sure, haunt the gym-

32 PLINY'S LETTERS.

nasia or the public arcades, nor amuse his own leisure and
that of others with lengthy dissertations. His time is
spent in his toga and in the transaction of business.
Many he assists in court, many more in consultation.
Yet to none of your philosophers will he yield even the
first place in moral purity, loyalty, integrity, or fortitude.

You would marvel, if you were present, at his patience
in bearing this very illness ; how he resists pain, how he
stints his thirst, how, lying still and covered up, he
endures the incredible heat of fever. He lately summoned
me and a few others of his most intimate friends, and
begged us to consult the doctors as to the issue of his
illness, so that, if it were incapable of yielding to treat-
ment, he might withdraw from life by his own act ; if,
however, it should be merely obstinate and protracted, he
might fight against it and remain ; for that he owed this
to the prayers of his wife, he owed this to the tears of his
daughter, he owed this even to us his friends, in order that
he might not deceive our hopes, provided they were not
futile, by a voluntary death. Now this seems to me a
course in the highest degree difficult and worthy of
especial praise. For to rush on death in a kind of im-
petuous and impulsive way is to do what many can do ;
whereas, to deliberate, to weigh the incentives to death,
and, according as reason shall prompt, to accept or decline
the fatal resolution — this is the part of a great mind.

The doctors indeed promise a favourable issue. It re-
mains for the deity to confirm these promises and to free
me at length from this solicitude : released from which, I
shall return to my house at Laurentum, in other words, to
my books and my writing-tablets and my studious retire-
ment. For just now my attendance on the sick man leaves
me no time, and my anxiety leaves me no desire, to read
or to write anything. You are now in possession of my
fears, hopes, and future plans into the bargain. Pray write
me in turn, but in a more cheery letter than this, what
you have been doing, are doing, and are thinking of doing.

BOOK I.

33

It will be no mean solace to my perturbed mind that you
have nothing to complain of.

(23-)

To PoMPEius Falco.

You ask my opinion as to whether you ought to plead
causes during your tribuneship. It makes a vast difference
what you hold the tribuneship to be — whether an empty
shadow and a mere name without honour, or an authority
invested with the highest sanctions, such as should suffer
degradation at the hands of no man, least of all at those of
the holder. With regard to myself during my tenure of
the office, I may perhaps have erred in imagining myself
to be of some account ; yet, just as though I had been, I
abstained from pleading causes. And this, firstly, because
it appeared to me most unseemly that one in whose pre-
sence every one is bound to rise, and to give place, should
himself stand while every one else is sitting ; next, that one
who can impose silence on all should himself be silenced
by the hour-glass ; again, that he whom it is unlawful to
interrupt should have to listen to actual scurrilities, and be
looked upon as mean-spirited if he passed them over, and
arrogant if he punished them. Moreover, there was this
difficulty before my eyes ; suppose I had been appealed to
in my official capacity, either by the person for whom, or
the one against whom, I appeared. Should I interpose
as tribune and aid him ? or should I keep quiet and
hold my tongue, abdicating, so to speak, my magisterial
office, and constituting myself a private individual ?
Moved by these considerations, I preferred to exhibit
myself as a tribune to all rather than an advocate to a
few. But as to you, I repeat, it makes a vast difference
what you hold the tribuneship to be, and what sort of
part you propose to play, which, in the case of a wise man,
should be so fitted to him that it may be played out to

the end.

c

34 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(24.)

To Baebius Hispanus.

TranqiiilluSj my chum, wants to buy a small property
which your friend is said to have in the market. Please
see that he buys it at a fair price, for then, and then only,
will he be pleased with his bargain. A bad purchase is
always disagreeable, chiefly because it seems to reproach
its OMmer with his folly. Now, in this little property, if
the price be only favourable, there is much to tempt the
fancy of my friend Tranquillus — the neighbourhood of
the city, the easiness of access, the moderate size of the
house, the extent of the land, enough to amuse, not to
engross him. For your scholars (and such he is), when
they are proprietors, are amply satisfied with so much of
the soil as permits them to lift their heads from their
books, refresh their eyes, crawl along their boundaries,
always keeping to the same path, knowing all their tiny
vines, and able to number their diminutive shrubs. This
I have set before you .that you may better understand
how much he will owe to me, and I to you, if he buys
this little country place, recommended by so many attrac-
tions, at such a reasonable price as not to leave room for
repentance.

( 35 )

BOOK II.

To EOMANUS.

It is some years since such a splendid, and indeed memor-
able, spectacle has been exhibited to the eyes of the
Eoman people, as that of the public funeral of Verginius
Eufus, a citizen of the greatest distinction and renown,
and one who was fortunate in an equal degree. For
thirty years he survived his glorious deeds ; he read poems,
he read histories WTitten about himself ; he was a witness
to his own fame with posterity. He passed through his
third consulship, thereby filling the loftiest station open
to a subject, since he had refused that of a prince. He
escaped those emperors by whom he had been suspected,
and even hated, on account of his virtues ; and the best of
them, the one who loved him most, he left behind him in
life, as though he had been reserved for this very honour
of a public funeral. He outlived his eighty-third year, in
the most perfect composure of mind, and the object of
corresponding veneration. He enjoyed robust health, ex-
cept that his hands used to shake, yet short of feeling
pain. Only, the approach of death * was somewhat severe
and tedious ; though this circumstance itself was a credit
to liim. For as he was practising his voice,t in view to a
speech of thanks which he had to make to the Emperor,

* Aditus mortis. Either "tlae ap- voice, but to study the delivery of,

proach of death" or "his approach i.e., rehearse the speech. But what

to death." The former seems to me follows is against this. Xo speech

preferable. of thanks to the Emperor could have

t Vocem praeparare. Not, says made up an immense book.
During, to exercise, practise, try the

36 PLINY'S LETTERS.

on liis appointment as consul, tlie book he held, which
happened to be of considerable size, slipped out of his
hands — aged as he was, and in a standing posture too — by
its own weight. In the act of snatching at it to hold it
together,* his foot failed him on the polished and slippery-
floor; he fell and broke his hipbone, and his years pre-
venting its being properly set, it would not come together
again as it should. The obsequies of this great man have
reflected the highest lustre upon the prince, upon the age,
and upon the Forum and Eostra as well. His eulogy was
pronounced by Cornelius Tacitus. What a supreme
crowning point to his good fortune to obtain the most
eloquent of eulogists !

So lie, is gone, full of years and full of honours, even
of those which he refused. We have to miss him and
regret him as a model of a bygone age ; I, for my part,
particularly, who loved as much as I admired him, and that
not merely from a public point of view. For, firstly, we
came from the same part of the country ; our chief towns
were contiguous ; and more than this, our estates and pro-
perty joined each other. In the next place, he was left
my guardian, and always exhibited towards me the affec-
tion of a parent. So it was that, on the occasions of my
candidature, he honoured me with his voice ; so he always
hastened from his retirement to welcome me in all the
offices I held, though he had long since given up this kind
of complimentary visit ; so on the day when the Augurs
usually nominate those whom they judge most worthy of
the Augurship, he always nominated me. Nay more, dur-
ing this last illness of his, fearing that he might chance
to be appointed on the commission of five for reducing
the public expenditure, which was being constituted by
a decree of the Senate, although so many of his friends
survived who were old men and of consular rank, he
selected me, at my present age, as his substitute, and in
these words too : " I would even intrust my son to you, if

* The usual form of Roman books must be borne in mind.

BOOK IL

37

I had one." * These are the reasons which ohlio-e me to

O

pour my griefs into your bosom for a death which seems
almost premature; if indeed it he allowable either to
grieve for, or to call by the name of " death " at all, that
which has put an end to the mortal existence rather than
the life of so great a man. For he lives still, and will
live for ever; he will even occupy a larger share in the
thoughts and discourse of men now that he is withdrawn
from their eyes. There were many other things which I
wished to write to you, but my mind is entirely a prey to
this one subject of contemplation. I think of Verginius.
I see Verginius. I hear, address, grasp Verginius in what
are now vain but lively images. We possess, it may be,
and shall hereafter possess, citizens his equals in great
qualities — in renown no one !

(2.)

To Paulinus.

I am angry without being clear that I ought to be.
Still I aril angry. You know that affection is occasionally
unjust, often headstrong, at all times quarrelsome about
trifles. Here, at any rate, is a weighty reason — whether
a just one or not I don't know. However, taking it to be
as just as it is weighty, 1 am grievously angry with you
for not having sent me any letters for such a long time.
There is only one way in which you can obtain my for-
giveness, and that is by now at all events writing to me
frequently and at great length. This is the only excuse
which will seem to me valid ; all others will be treated as
false. I am not going to listen to this kind of thing — " I
was not at Eome," or " I was too busy," As for this — " I
w^as too unwell," why, the gods won't allow of that being
said, I hope. I myself am at my country-house, in the

* Mandarem, sc. filium, or else I had a son, I would choose you in
hoc, this commission. In the latter preference to him as ray represeuta-
case, the sense will be, "Even if tive."

38 PLINY'S LETTERS.

enjoyment partly of study, partly of indolence : retirement
is the parent of both.

(3-)
To Nepos.

Great was the reputation which had preceded Isseus,
yet he was found to surpass it. His powers of speech, his
copiousness, his richness are extraordinary. He always
speaks extemporaneously, but just as though everything
had been written out long before. His language is Greek,
indeed Attic. His prefatory remarks are terse, graceful,
and agreealjle, at times of a grave and lofty tone. He
calls for several subjects of discussion, and allows his
hearers to make their choice, frequently even to select
their sides. He rises and composes his attire, then he
begins. At once, and almost at the same moment, every-
thing comes to his hand, profound ideas present them-
selves, and expressions — oh, such expressions ! — so choice
and polished ! In these offhand effusions, a great amount of
reading, a great habit of composition, are revealed. His
preludes are to the point, his narratives clear, his attacks
vigorous, his embellishments noble : in short, he teaches,
delights, and moves you, so that you are in doubt as to
which he does best. He indulges in frequent " enthy-
memata," * frequent syllogisms, concise and reasoned out,
such as it is difficult to produce even with pen in hand.
His memory is incredible ; he will repeat from a long way
back what he has spoken extempore, without a mistake
in a word. To this degree of skill has he attained by study
and practice ; for night and day he applies himself to
nothincf else, hears and talks of nothing else.

He has passed his sixtieth year, and is still a scholar and
nothing else— a class of men than whom none are more

* Enthyviemata, which had a tech- ed, cf. Liddell and Scott, sub voce),

nical sense in logic (a syllogism drawn is here used in the sense of "reflec-

froni probable premises, and later a tions, general considerations."
syllogism with one premiss suppress-

BOOK 11. 39

honest and straisjlitforward. For we who undersjo the
friction of the courts and of real lawsuits acquire a great
spice of roguishuess into the bargain, albeit unwillingly.*
Schools and lecture-rooms and fictitious causes are inno-
cent and harmless affairs, and no less sources of enjoyment,
particularly to old men. For what can be a greater source
of enjoyment in age than that which is most delightful
in youth ? Wherefore I for my part esteem Isceus not
only the most eloquent but the happiest of men ; and if
you are not eager to make his acquaintance, you must
be made of stone or of iron. So, come, if not on other
accounts, nor on my account, at any rate that you may
hear him. Have you never read how a certain man of
Gades,t moved by the name and renown of Titus Livius,
came from the extremity of the earth for the purpose of
seeing him, and the moment he had seen him went back \
It would be " wanting in a sense of the beautiful," it would
be the part of an illiterate, it would be dulness and almost
disgrace, not to regard such an acquaintance as worth the
trouble — than which none can be pleasanter, none more
honourable, in short, none more conformable to nature.
You will perhaps say, " I have here authors no less elo-
quent, whom I can read." Very true ; but there is always
an opportunity for reading, and not always one for hearing.
Besides, we are much more affected, to use a common ex-
pression, by the living voice. For even suppose what you
read to possess greater spirit, yet there will remain more
deeply seated in your mind what the pronunciation,
countenance, demeanour, and even the gestures of the
speaker have implanted there. Unless, indeed, we esteem
as false the well-known remark of ^schines, who, when
he had read to the PJiodians an oration of Demosthenes,
amidst universal applause, is reported to have added,
"What if you had heard the roar of the least himself?"
And yet ^schines, if we are to believe Demosthenes, was

* Or, "however unwilling we may sense of cunning and artifice.
be." Malitia is used here in tiie f Cadiz.

40 PLINY'S LETTERS.

" extremely clear-voiced." He confessed, however, that
the same oration would have been delivered far more
effectively by the author in person. All which goes to
this, to make you hear Isffius, if only to be able to say
that you have heard him.

(4.)

To Calvina.

If your father had been in debt to a number of people,
or to any single individual in the world, other than my-
self, it would very likely have been a matter of doubt
whether you ought to enter on the administration of his
estate,* which would have been a troublesome matter even
for a man. But since, moved by the ties of consanguinity,
I constituted myself his sole creditor by paying off all
the rest (who, I won't say, were more pressing, but who
at any rate looked more carefully after their money) ; and
since, moreover, during his lifetime, I contributed a hun-
dred thousand sesterces towards your wedding portion,
besides that sum which your father guaranteed out of my
property, as it were (for it was out of my property that it
had to be paid) — in all this you have a strong pledge of
my kindly feeling towards you, in full reliance on which
you ought to defend your departed parents' reputation and
honour. To which intent, that I may not admonish you
in word rather than in deed, I shall bid the whole of your
father's debt to me to be written off. Nor need you fear
that such a present will inconvenience me. My means
are, to be sure, only moderate, while my rank involves
expenditure, and my small estates are of such a character
that the income from them is slender, at any rate pre-
carious. But what is lacking in income is made up by
economy, which is, as it were, the spring from which my
liberality flows : one which, nevertheless, must be hus-

* Hereditatem adire, to accept the position of heres, with all its responsi-
bilities.

BOOK II. 41

banded, that it may not be dried up by too great profusion.
It shall be husbanded, however, in the case of others : in
yoiiT case, there will be a ready justification, even if the
bounds be exceeded.

(5.)

To LUPEKCUS.

I have sent you the speech which you have so frequently
pressed me for, and which has been so often promised by
me ; not, however, as yet the whole of it, for a portion of
it is still under final revision. Meanwhile I have thouo;ht
it not amiss to submit to your appreciation those parts
wdiich appeared to me to be in a finished state. On these
I beg you to bestow the same close attention which they
received from their author ; for never yet have I had any-
thing in hand which required me to exhibit more watchful
care. In my other speeches, my diligence only and trust-
worthiness were submitted to the judgment of mankind ;
here, further, my patriotism was concerned. Hence, the
book itself has grown, while I rejoiced to celebrate and dilate
upon my native country, and at the same time to help to
defend it,* as well as to glorify it. Do you, however, cut
out these very passages as far as reason shall dictate.
Tor when I consider the censoriousness and the whims of
readers, I understand that their favour is to be sought by
the moderate size in particular of a book. Yet, while
exacting from you this strictness, I am at the same time
compelled to put in an opposite request, that you will
look with indulgence on many passages. Some conces-
sions must be made to youthful ears, particularly if the
subject-matter is not opposed to such handling. It is
surely allowable to treat descriptions of places, which will
be rather numerous in this book, not merely in a historical

* Defensioni. We do not know any one on behalf of his native place
more of this speech than Pliny tells (patria), Comum, which was engaged
us here. It is thought to have been probably in some lawsuit at Rome.

42 PLINY'S LETTERS.

but almost in a poetical fashion. If, however, there be
any one who thinks I have done this in a lighter way
than the serious character of the oration requires, the
severity, if I may so express it, of this reader must needs
be deprecated by the remaining portions of the speech.
I have at any rate striven to interest readers of the most
opposite characters, by a great variety of styles, and just
as I fear that particular parts will not, in accordance with
individual tastes, be approved by some, so T am pretty
confident that this very variety will commend the book to
all as a whole. For even in taking account of a banquet,
though individually we may abstain from a number of
dishes, yet we often unite in praising the dinner as a
whole, nor do those viands which our taste rejects take
away from the merit of those which have attracted it.

Now I wish all this to be understood, not as believing
myself to have succeeded, but as having laboured to suc-
ceed, and that perhaps not in vain, if only you will devote
your attention in the interim to what I have sent, and
presently to what will follow. You will say that you
cannot do this thoroughly unless you are first made
acquainted with the entire speech. I admit it. For the
present, however, what I have sent will become more
familiar to you, and in this there will be certain correc-
tions capable of being made in the parts. For if you were
to inspect a head broken off from a statue, or some limb
or other, though of course you could not gather from it its
harmony and proportion to the rest, yet you might judge
whether, taken by itself, it was a work of art or not. For
this and no other reason, specimen numbers of books are
circulated, because it is believed that a part may be
complete in itself without the remainder.

The kind of charm there is in conversing with you has
led me further than was intended ; here, however, I must
end, for fear the limits which in my opinion should be
observed even in an oration be exceeded in a letter.

BOOK II. 43

(6.)
To AviTUS.

It would be tedious to recall, nor is it of any conse-
quence, how it came to pass that I (though but slightly
acquainted with him), dined with a certain gentleman
who unites, in his own estimation, splendour with economy,
in mine, meanness with extravagance. For he and a few
others had the best of everything served them, while the
rest of the company had common fare and mere scraps.
Even the wine he had divided into three sorts, in little
flagons; not that people might have the power of choosing,
but that they might not have the right of decliniug ; one
sort for himself and us, another for his humbler friends
(for he puts his friends into categories), another for his
and our freedmen. My next neighbour at table remarked
upon this, and asked me if I approved of it. I said, No.
" What custom, then, do you follow ? " says he. " I set
the same fare before everybody; for I invite people to
dine, not to be invidiously ticketed, and I treat as my
entu'e equals in all respects those whom I have made
already my equals by placing them at my table." " What,
your freedmen too ? " " Certainly ; for then I look on
them as my guests, not my freedmen." " It must cost
you a great deal," says he. " Not at aU," I replied. " How
can that be ? " " Why, because my freedmen don't drink
the same wine that I do, but I drink the same wine as
my freedmen." And, by Hercules, if you only restrain
your gluttony, it is no great hardship to share with a
number of others what you use yourself. This gluttony,
then, must be kept in check; it must, so to speak, be
reduced to the ranks, if you would moderate your expen-
diture ; and it is somewhat better to arrange for this by
curbing yourself rather than by insulting other people.

To what end all this ? In order that the show which
some people make at their tables may not impose on

44 PLINY'S LETTERS.

you, my young friend, with your excellent disposition,
under the guise of economy. It becomes my affection
towards you, whenever a case of this kind occurs, to
admonish you by an example of what you should shun.
Eemember, then, that there is nothing more to be avoided
than this strang-e association of extravagance and mean-
ness — vices which are loathsome enough when separate
and asunder, and still more loathsome when they are
combined.

(7.)
To Maceinus.

Yesterday, on the motion of the Emperor, the Senate
decreed a triumphal statue to Vestricius Spurinna, not in
the same way as to many others who never stood in the
ranks, never saw a camp, in short, never heard the sound
of a trumpet except at the show, but like to those who
were wont to gain this distinction by their sweat and
their blood and their great deeds. For Spurinna set the
King of the Bructeri upon his throne by force of arms, and
with a threat of war tamed by mere terror — the noblest
kind of victory — a people of the fiercest character.

He received this, therefore, as a reward for his valour ;
and further, as a solace to his grief, the honour of a statue
to his son Cottius, whom he lost during his absence. A
rare thing this in the case of a young man ; but the addi-
tion was well deserved by his father, whose cruel wound
needed some strong remedial application. Besides, Cottius
himself had given such bright token of his natural dispo-
sition, that it was only right his life, short and contracted
as it was, should be extended by this kind of immortality,
as it were. He was so well-conducted, so steady, so much
looked up to even, that he could challenge in point of
high qualities those very seniors to whom he has now
been made equal in point of honour. By this honour,
however, as I take it, provision was made not only for the

BOOK 11. 45

memory of the deceased and the grief of his father, but
also for an example. Youth will be incited to the practice
of virtue by the establishment of such prizes, open to lads
even, provided they be worthy of them. Men of lofty
station will be incited to raise children, not only by their
joy in those who survive, but by such glorious consolations
in the case of those who are lost.

Tor these reasons I rejoice in the statue to Cottius
on public grounds, and no less on private ones. I loved
that most consummate young man as ardently as I now
impatiently regret him. So it will be very pleasant to me
to gaze from time to time upon this effigy of him; from
time to time look back at it, to stand under it, to pass by
it. For if likenesses of the departed set up in our houses
alleviate our grief, how much more must those which,
standing in the most frequented places, recall not their
appearance and their expression only, but also their great-
ness and their glory.

(8.)

To Caninius.

Are you studying ? or fishing ? or hunting ? or
uniting all these pursuits ? They can all be united at my
Larian place. The lake abounds in fish, the woods which
surround the lake in game, and that profoundest of retreats
in incentives to study. However, whether you are com-
bining them all, or engaged in any one of them, though I
can't say " I envy you," yet I am distressed that these
pursuits are not permitted we, which I yearn for as sick
people yearn for wine, baths, and spring water. Shall I
never be able to break through, if unable to loosen them,
these bonds which so closely confine me ? Never, I
imagine. For fresh business is always growing on to the
old, and yet the old is not completed. So numerous are
the coils, so numerous the links, so to speak, by which
the chain of my occupations is daily extended.

46 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(9.)

To Apollinaris.

The candidature of my friend Sextiis Erucius causes me
anxiety and disquiet. I am troubled with apprehensions,
and the uneasiness which I did not feel on my own account
I am now enduring on his, as though for another self.
Moreover, my honour, my reputation, my consideration
are at stake. I it was who obtained the Lotus clavus *
for Sextus from our Emperor. I it was who procured the
Quffistorship for him. It was on my recommendation
that he obtained the right of standing for the tribuneship ;
and if he does not get the office from the Senate, I fear I
shall seem to have deceived the Emperor. Accordingly,
every effort must be used by me in order that the world
at large shall judge him to be such as the prince, on my
representation, believed him to be. And if my zeal were
not stimulated by this cause, I should in any case wish
to see supported a young man of great virtue, principle,
and attainments, one, in short, worthy of all praise, as are,
indeed, the whole of his family. For his father is Erucius
Clarus, a person of the purest character and of antique
mould, an eloquent man, and a skilful pleader in court,
conducting his cases with extreme conscientiousness, like
determination, and no less modesty. He has for his
maternal uncle C. Septicius, than w^hom I have never
known a sincerer, more straightforward, more guileless,
more reliable man. As they all vie in loving me, and yet
love me equally, so now in the person of one of them I can
make a return to all. Accordingly, I am suing my friends,
soliciting, canvassing, going the round of houses and
public resorts, and ascertaining by my entreaties what I
am worth in the way either of influence or interest. And
I beg you will think it worth your while to take some

* A broad purple band on the tunic, torial rank; sometimes, it would
indicating, as a general rule, sena- seem, bestowed on knights.

BOOK IL 47

share of my burden. I will requite you, if you ask for a
return ; ay, and even if you don't ask for one. You are
clierisbed, courted, you have a numerous society; only
show that you wish for a thing, and there will he no lack
of those to whom your wishes will be objects of desire.

(10.)
To OCTAVIUS.

0 apathetic individual, or rather obstinate, and I had
almost said cruel one ! To keep back such remarkable books
for such a time ! How long are you going to defraud your-
self as well as us : yourself of the greatest renown, and
us of the greatest pleasure ? Suffer them to be borne on
the lips of mankind, and to range through the same
bounds as the language of Eome. The expectations
formed of them are great and by this time protracted ; and
these you ought not any longer to disappoint and delay.
Some of your verses have become known, having burst
their barriers in spite of you. Unless you reunite them
to the main body, one day or other, like fugitive slaves,
they will find a new owner. Keep before your eyes our
mortal condition, from which you can liberate yourself by
this kind of memorial alone : all else is frail and fleeting,
dies and comes to an end, equally with men themselves.

You will say, as you generally do, " My friends will see
to it." * I can only wish you, for my part, friends so faith-
ful, so learned, and so painstaking, as to be both able and
willing to undertake such labour and exertion. Yet con-
sider whether it be not a little lacking in foresioht to ex-
pect from others what you won't do for yourself. Now as
to ^piiblishing, let it be meanwhile as you please. At all
events recite, that you may be encouraged to publish, and
may at length enjoy that satisfaction which I have long
since, without rashness, anticipated for you. Tor I picture
to myself the concourse, the admiration, the applause, the

* That is to say, after I am gone.

48 . PLINY'S LETTERS.

silence even which awaits you : which last, when I speak,
or indeed recite, delights me as much as applause, provided
it be an eacrer silence, one showing attention and a desire
to hear more. Forbear, then, to defraud your labours of a
reward so great and so assured, by this endless hesitation,
which, when it exceeds the bounds, may, there is cause to
fear, come to be styled laziness, indolence, and supineness,
perhaps even cowardice.

(II.)

To Arkianus.

You are in general delighted when any business has
been transacted in the Senate worthy of that body. For
though your love of repose has sent you into retirement,
yet there remains implanted in your mind a regard for the
dignity of the commonwealth. Listen, then, to the transac-
tions of the last few days, memorable from the great posi-
tion of the personage concerned, salutary from the severity
of the example set, and immortal owing to the magnitude
of the affair.

Marius Priscus, being accused by the Africans, whom
he had governed as proconsul, declined to defend himself,
and requested to have judges assigned him.* Cornelius
Tacitus and I, who had been appointed counsel for the pro-
vincials, deemed it a part of our duty to inform the Senate
that Priscus by his enormities and cruelties had trans-
cended such charges as are capable of having judges
assigned them, inasmuch as he had received bribes for
the condemnation, and even the slaughter, of innocent
persons. Pronto Catius, in reply, deprecated inquiry
being made into anything that was not covered by the

* I.e., He declined defending liira- the graver charges brought against

self in the Senate, and asked for a him. If, then, the Senate had sent

trial before judges. These judges him before this court or commission,

would be empowered to inquire into it would have been held to acquit

the charges of extortion, &c., and him of, or at least to condone, the

assess damages. But it seems they weightier charges,
would not be entitled to examine into

BOOK 11. - 49

law against bribery and extortion : and expert as lie is at
moving tears, he filled all the sails of his speech with a
kind of breeze of commiseration. Tliere was much dis-
puting and clamouring on either side, some declaring that
the jurisdiction of the Senate was bounded by the law ; *
others that it was free and unfettered, and that in pro-
portion as the accused had sinned, so he should be
punished. At last, Julius Ferox, consul-elect, an honour-
able and upright man, pronounced himself in favour of
assigning judges to Marius in the interim, and, at the
same time, summoning those to whom, it was said, he had
sold the penalties inflicted on innocent persons. This
opinion not only prevailed, but was absolutely the only
one which, after these great disputes, was numerously
followed. Indeed, it has been shown by experience that
although the first impulses of partiality and compassion
are apt to manifest themselves with fire and vehemence,
yet they will settle down gradually, extinguished, so to
speak, by reflection and consideration. Hence it comes
to pass that an opinion which a number of people will
support with a confused clamour, no one will be willing
to pronounce, when the rest are holding their tongues.
Tor, when you are separated from the crowd, you get a
clear view of many things which the crowd serves to
conceal.

Those who had been summoned to attend made their
appearance — Vitellius Honoratus and Flavins Marcianus.
Of these, Honoratus was charged with having bought, for
three hundred thousand sesterces,t the banishment of a
Eoman knight and the capital punishment of seven of his
friends : Marcianus with having bought, for seven hun-
dred thousand,"!" a combination of penalties inflicted on one
Eoman knight; for he had been beaten with cudgels,

* Their argument seems to have stopped from proceeding further — a
been that Marius had virtually pleaded strange argument,
guilty to the charge of extortion, &c. , f About £2400.
by demanding judges to estimate I About £5600.
damages, and that the Senate was

D

50 PLINY'S LETTERS.

condemned to work in the mines, and finally strangled in
prison. Honoratus, however, was withdrawn from the
cognisance of the Senate by a timely death, and Marcianus
was brought in, in the absence of Prisons. Upon this,
Tuccius Cerialis, a man of consular rank, proposed, in
virtue of his senatorial right, that Prisons should have
notice : either with the idea that he would be a greater
object of compassion, or perhaps, on the other hand, of
odium, if he were present ; or else (as I am strongly in-
clined to believe) because it was most in accordance with
justice that an accusation common to both should be met
by each of them, and if it could not be refuted, should be
punished in the person of each. The alfair was postponed
till the next meeting of the Senate, the mere aspect of
'which was extremely grand. The Emperor presided, for
he happened to be consul: add to this that it was the
month of January, one of particular note on other ac-
counts,* and also especially from the number of senators
it brings together : moreover, the importance of the cause,
the expectation and fame of it, which had increased by its
postponement, the eagerness, innate in mortals, for an
acquaintance with what is remarkable and unusual : all
this had called forth every one from every quarter.
Picture to yourself our anxiety and apprehension, who
had to speak on an affair of such moment in that assembly
and in the presence of the Emperor. For my part, I have
spoken in the Senate, and not once only ; more than that,
there is no place where I am habitually listened to with
greater favour ; and yet, at the moment, everything
seemed strange to me, and pervaded me with a strange
apprehension. In addition to the particulars above men-
tioned, the difficulties of the case presented themselves to
me : there stood a man but lately of consular rank, lately

* It was the month when the new gwenim, when the sense of ceZe6emmMS

magistrates entered on their offices, will be different, and the meaning

Mensis cum cetera turn praecipue will be, "A month which brings

Senatoriini frequentia celeberrimus. together a number of senators in

Cetera might here be taken with fre- particular, besides other people."

BOOK IT. 5 1

a member of a sacred college ; now, neither.* It was
especially disagreeable, tlien, to have to accuse one already
convicted, a man who, though weighed down by the enor-
mity of his crimes, was yet in like manner protected by
the pity resulting from his having been previously, and,
as it might seem, finally condemned.-f- However, I col-
lected my mind and my thoughts, and began to speak
with no less approval on the part of my audience than
anxiety on my own. I spoke for nearly five hours : to
twelve water-clocks of most liberal measure which had
been allowed me, four fresh ones were added.! So greatly
did the very topics which seemed to me, before speaking,
to present difficulties, and to make against me, turn to
my advantage when I did speak. The Emperor, indeed,
showed such favour towards me, such care for me even
(perhaps solicitude would be too strong a term), that he
frequently suggested to my freedman, who stood behind
me, to beg me spare my voice and my strength, whenever
he thought I was exerting myself with greater vehemence
than my delicate frame might be able to bear. Claudius
Marcellinus replied to me on behalf of Marcianus. There-
upon the Senate rose, being adjourned to the following
day ; for by this time a fresh speech could not have been
entered on without being cut short by nightfall.

iSText day, Marius was defended by Salvius Liberalis, a
subtle, methodical, incisive, eloquent speaker, and to be
sure in this case he put forth all his powers. Cornelius
Tacitus answered him with great eloquence, and, what is
remarkable in his style of speaking, with great dignity.
Fronto Catius rejoined on behalf of Marius, in an excellent

* The Judices (judges) had con- the sentence of the Judices ; that no

demned him for bribery since the more cliarges should be brought

previous sitting of the Senate. against him. Peragere damn, occurs

+ Quasi peractae damnationis mis- again in vi. 31, " to pursue a charge

eratio tuebatur. I prefer taking to the end."

guasi' with (ici'/m., not with the whole J Clepsydrae, water - clocks, by

sentence, as Schaefer and Doring do. which time was measured ; made of

It might seem that he had, as it were, glass and other materials.
" got over " his condemnation, by

52 PLINY'S LETTERS.

speech, and — as tlie situation now demanded — devoted his
time rather to entreating the Senate than to defending his
client. The evening closed this speech, yet not so as to
interrupt it. So the proceedings lasted into a third day.
Surely this was in itself admirable and in the good old
style : that the sittings of the Senate were closed by night-
fall, that it was called together for three days, and kept
together for three days. Cornutus TertuUus, consul-elect,
a man of great distinction and unswerving integrity, moved
that the seven hundred thousand sesterces which Marius
had received should be paid into the Treasury, and that
IMarius himself should be banislied from Eome and from
Italy ; Marcianus from Africa into the bargain. By way
of conclusion to his motion, he farther proposed that inas-
much as Tacitus and I had discharged the ofhce of advocate
imposed on us with diligence and intrepidity, the Senate
adjudged that we had acted in a way worthy of the func-
tions assigned us. The consuls-elect assented to this
motion, and, indeed, all the men of consular rank, till it
came to the turn of Pompeius Collega : he opined for pay-
ing the seven hundred thousand into tlie Treasury, and
also banishing* Marcianus for five years, but for being
contented, in the case of ]\Iarius, with the penalties for
bribery which he had already incurred. There were many
for each of these proposals ; perhaps, on the wliole, a
majority for the latter — the more lenient, not to call it the
laxer, of the two. For some even of those who had seemed
to agree with Cornutus now followed this senator, who
had given his opinion after themselves. However, when a
division took place, those who stood by the consuls' chairs
began to go over to the side of Cornutus. Whereupon, those
who still allowed themselves to be numbered with Collega
crossed to the opposite side of the House, and Collega was
left with a small following. The latter complained after-

* 7Je/cf/rtrc, a lighter form of banish- words to express the different senses
nient than the inlerdictio mentioned in English, we must again render by
just before. As we have no separate "banish."

BOOK II. 53

wards a good deal of tliose who had set him on, particu-
larly of Regulus, who had left him in the lurcli on a
motion which he (Regains) had himself prompted. Indeed
Eegulus is generally of such a fluctuating disposition, that
he is full of daring and full of cowardice as well.

Such was the end of this most important investigation.
There still remains, however, a public matter of some
importance — the aftair of Hostilius Firminus, lieutenant
to Marius Priscus, wdio was implicated in the cause, and
got very roughly handled. For Martianus's cash accounts,
and also a speech which he made to the senators of Leptis,
proved that he had lent his aid to Priscus for services of
the basest kind; that he had covenanted for fifty thousand
denarii* to be paid by Marcianus; that he had further
received in person ten thousand sesterces, under a most
disreputable title, that of " purveyor of perfumes," a title
not ill-suited to the manners of the man, wdth his per-
petual trimmed hair and levigated skin. It was resolved, on
the motion of Cornutus, that his case should be laid before
the Senate at its next meeting ; for at that time, whether
accidentally or from the effect of conscience, he was absent.

So now you have the news of the town. Write me in
return that of the country. How are your shrubs doing,
and your vineyards, and your corn crops, and those choice
sheep of yours ? In a word, send me back a letter as long
as my own, or else henceforth look for none but the
shortest of letters from me.

(12.)

To Arrianus.

The " public matter " which, as I lately wrote you word,
was a remanet after the trial of Marius Priscus, has been

* A denarius being four sesterces, sestertium = looo sesterces). The

this — about ;^i6oo ; a little below ;^i6oo was part of the /5600 which,

10,000 sesterces = about ;^8o. Ses- as we saw above, Marcianus was to

tertia, which Keil reads, would make pay as blood-money to Marius.
j^8o,ooo, which seems too much (one

54 PLINY'S LETTERS.

"trimmed and shaved,"* whether satisfactorily or not I
cannot say. Firminus, brought before the Senate, answered
to a charge which was patent. Then followed conflicting
proposals on the part of the consuls-elect. Cornutus
Tertullus moved that he be expelled the Senate ; Acutius
IS^erva that in the assignment by lot of provinces his name
be left oiit.f This latter proposal carried the day, as
being the more lenient, whereas it is, in fact,| the harsher
and severer of the two. For what can be more miserable
than to be cut off and excepted from the privileges of the
senatorship, and yet not to be exempt from its labours and
its annoyances ? What can be more oppressive than for
a man, to whom such ignominy has been attached, not to be
able to hide away in solitude, but to have to exhibit him-
self as a sight and a show on so lofty an eminence ? In
addition to this, what, from a public point of view, can be
more incongruous or more indecent than that a person
branded by the Senate should sit in the Senate, and should
be on equal terms with the very persons who have branded
him; that one debarred from a proconsulship for his dis-
graceful conduct in his lieutenancy should yet sit in judg-
ment on proconsuls, and, after being condemned for his own
dirty practices, should condemn or acquit others. Yet so
the majority decided. Votes, you know, are numbered,
not weighed. Nor can this be otherwise in a public
assembly, where there is nothing so unequal as this very
equality ; for though the members are not on a par in point
of sagacity, yet they are all on a par in the right to vote.
I have carried out my promise, and fulfilled the engage-
ment contained in my former letter, which, from the time
that has elapsed, I conclude you must have already re-
ceived ; for I intrusted it to a speedy and careful mes-

* Circumcisumetadrasum, "clipped + Taking away from him all chance

Hnd shaved," perhaps an allusion to of going out as a provincial gover-

the dandified ways of Firminus, men- nor, and pillaging on his own ac-

tioned at the end of the last letter, count.

Nescio an, hand scio an, in Pliny, J Alioqui here is not easily trans-

usually express simple doubt. "I latable, Itis the French "du reste."
know not," "I cannot say."

BOOK 11. 55

senger, unless he has met with some hindrance on his way.
It is your turn now to repay, first my former missive, next
this one, by a return letter charged with as much matter
as possible from your neighbourhood.

(13.)

To Pkiscus.

Not only do you seize with avidity every opportunity
of obliging me, but I too, for my part, would rather be in
your debt than any one else's. So, for a double reason, I
have determined to apply to you before all others for a
favour which I am greatly anxious to obtain. You are in
command of a very fine army ; so there has been ample
material for your favours ; and, besides, the time has been
long during which you have had it in your power to
advance your own friends. Now turn your attention to
mine; they shall not be numerous. You, to be sure,
would prefer they were numerous ; but my modesty is
satisfied with one or two, say rather one, and that one
shall be Voconius Eomanus. His father was a distin-
guished member of the Equestrian order; still more
distinguished is his step-father, or rather his second father,
for to such a name his pious affection has entitled him to
succeed. His mother was of a leading family in Upper
Spain. You know the character of that province for dis-
cretion and solidity. He himself was lately Flamen.
When we were fellow-students I had a close and intimate
regard for him ; he was my associate in town and country ;
with him I shared my serious and my sportive hours.
Where indeed could there be found a more faithful friend
or a more entertaining companion? Marvellous is the
charm of his conversation; marvellous that of his very
countenance and expression. Add to this an intelligence
of a lofty character, subtle, agreeable, ready, accomplished
in pleading causes. As for the letters he writes, you
would imagine the Muses in person were talking Latin.

56 PLINY'S LETTERS,

Greatly as he is beloved by me, lie does not yield to me
in affection. For my part, when we were young men
together, I was most eager to do everything for him that
lay in my power at that time of my life ; and I have
lately obtained for him from our gracious prince the rights
of those who have three children ; * rights which the latter,
though according them sparingly and with discrimination,
nevertheless conceded at my request as though the selec-
tion had been his own. These services rendered by me I
can maintain in no better way than by adding to them ;
especially as Voconius himself acknowledges them so
gratefully as by his receipt of previous favours to merit
future ones.

You now know what the man is, how approved and
dear to me. Advance him then, I pray you, in a way
which accords with your disposition and station. First of
all, love the man. For though you bestow on him the
greatest gifts in your power, you can bestow nothing
greater than your friendship. And that he is worthy f of
that, even to the most intimate degree of familiarity — that
you might the better know this, I have briefly portrayed
to you his pursuits, his character, in short, his whole life.
I would protract my prayers were it not that you would
be unwilling to be furtlier entreated, and that I have been
praying all through this letter. For he entreats, and that
too in the most efficacious way, who gives reasons for his
entreaties.

(14.)
To Maximus.

You are right in your supposition. I am distracted by
my causes in the Centumviral Court,| which are practice

* Justriumliberorum. Certain pri- f Capacem, lit. capable of con-

vileges and immunities were enjoyed taining.

by those wlio had three or more chil- J The court or chamber of a hun-

dren ; and these were sometimes (as dred judges. See Bk i. Letter 5,

here) bestowed as a favour on others, note.

BOOK II. 57

for me rather than pleasure. For most of them are
trumpery and insignificant ; rarely does one occur that is
noticeable from the position of the parties or the import -
ance of the issue. Add to this that there are few in
whose company I care to plead ; the remainder are im-
pudent fellows, and indeed for the most part obscure
striplings, who have come there for the purpose of de-
claiming ; and with such want of propriety and reckless-
ness, that my friend Attilius seems to have expressed it
exactly when he said, " Boys commence with Centumviral
causes at the bar as they do with Homer at school."
Here, as there, what is first in importance has come to be
taken first in time. But, by Hercules, before my day (so
old people will tell you), young men, even of the highest
f imilies, were not admitted to practice, except upon the
introduction of some man of consular rank ; such was the
respect paid to this noble profession. Now-a-days all
barriers of shame and respect are broken down; every-
thing is open to everybody ; they are no longer introduced —
they rush in. The pleaders are followed by an audience
of the same stamp, hired and bought for the purpose ; a
bargain is made with a speculator; in the middle of the
court, presents are distributed as openly as in the dining-
room. For a like consideration, these people will pass
from one court to another. Hence they are humorously
called " Sophocless," * and have received the Latin name
of " Laudiceni." t And yet this vile practice, thus stig-
matised in both languages, grows day by day. Yesterday
two of my nomenclators % (to be sure they are of the age
of those who have just assumed the toga ! §) were being
carried off to applaud by a gift of three denarii apiece.
Such is the price wliich it will cost you to become an

* 'Zo(\)ok\m, shouters of "bravo," the names of people whom they

with a humorous reference to the met.

tragedian's name. § This is ironical. " They are full

t Toadies for the sake of a meal. fourteen or fifteen years of age ! "

X Slaves who accompanied their They are at the age at which a citizen

masters in the streets to tell them would assume the toija virilis.

58 PLINY'S LETTERS.

orator of the first water. For tliis sum the benches, how-
ever numerous, are filled ; for the same, a huge crowd is
collected, and no end of cheering called forth, as soon as
the leader of the chorus has given the signal. A signal
is of course wanted for people who don't understand, who
don't even listen ; for most of them do not listen, nor are
there any who applaud more heartily than these. If you
should happen at any time to be passing through the
court-house, and should wish to know how each speaker
acquits himself, there is no necessity for going on the
platform or listening to the speeches ; it is easy to guess ;
be assured that he is the worst speaker who receives the
greatest applause.

The first person who introduced this style of audience
was Largius Licinus, yet only to the extent of bringing
people together to hear him, by simple invitation : so,
certainly, I remember to have heard from my tutor, Quin-
tilian. He used to tell this story : " I was in the habit of
attending on Domitius Afer. As he was once pleading
before the Centum viri, slowly and impressively (for this
was his style of speaking), he heard from a neighbouring
court * an extraordinary and unusual noise. He paused
in astonishment. "When silence was restored, he resumed
where he had broken off. Once more the noise, once more
a pause on his part. After a fresh silence, he continued
his speech for the third time. At last, he inquired w^ho
was speaking, and the reply was " Licinus." Upon this,
he threw up his brief, with the observation, " Judges, my
profession is at an end !" And indeed in other ways it
was coming to an end at the time when Afer thought it
ended : oioio, of a truth it is well-nigh utterly extinguished
and destroyed. I am ashamed to allude to the mincing
falsetto t in which the speeches are uttered, and the offen-

* This tribunal was divided into of a weak, feminine voice (many of

several courts or chambers, as we these speakers, we have just;been told,

have seen above. were mere striplings), and also an

+ Fractd voce seems from this and affected lisp or drawl,
other passages, to include the ideas

^ BOOK II. . 59

sive character of the clieering which greets them. Clap-
ping of hands only, or rather cymbals and drums alone, are
wanting to these sing-song performances ; yells, however
(there is indeed no other word to express a kind of
applause which would be indecent even in a theatre), are
in great superfluity. For myself, however, I am still kept
in these courts, and prevented from leaving them by the
requirements of my friends and a consideration of my
own age ; * for I fear people might perhaps think I was
not so much turning my back on these discreditable scenes
as shirking hard work. However, I go there more rarely
than my habit was, and this is a commencement of
gradually retiring from them.

(ISO

To Valerianus.

How does your old Marsian property treat you ? And
your new purchase ? Are you pleased with the estate,
now that it is your own ? A rare thing, to be sure ! In-
deed, nothing is so agreeable when you have once got it as
it was when you longed to have it. As for me, the farms
inherited from my mother treat me but so so ; yet they
delight me as coming from my mother ; and besides, long
endurance has hardened me. Constant growling comes at
last to this, that one is ashamed to growl.

(i6.)

To ANNIANUS.-f-

You, with your usual kindness, advise me that the
codicils of Acilianus (who had made me heir to half his

* I.e., he was still too young to ing Pliny to pay his legacy, or a part

think retirement proper. of it, to others, for it seems that such

+ This letter requires explanation, codicils would have been valid, even

Acilianus had made a regular will, without a will ; see Mr. George Long's

leavingPliny heir to half his property, article " Testamentum " in the Diet.

He had subsequently written certain of Greek and Roman Ant., where this

codicils — not, as some suppose, direct- case is referred to — but in which other

6o PLINY'S LETTERS.

property) must be regarded as invalid because they are
not confirmed by will. This provision of the law was not
unknown to me either, considering that it is known even
to those who are ignorant of everything else. But I have
bound myself by a kind of law of my own, to carry out
the wishes of the dead, even though legally incomplete,
just as though they were in perfect form. Now it is clear
that those codicils were written by the hand of Acilianus.
Although, therefore, they are not confirmed by will, yet
they shall be observed by me, just as if they were so con
firmed, particularly as there is no opening for an informer.*
For if there were cause to fear that what I had made over
might be escheated to the public, it would probably be-
come me to act with more consideration and caution.
Since, however, an heir is at liberty to make a donation of
what reverts to him of a heritage, there is nothing to stand
in the way of this law of mine, nor are the public laws
opposed to it.

(I7-)

To Gallus.

You are surprised that my Laurentine, or, if you prefer
it, my Laurens country-house, is so particularly agreeable
to me. You will cease to be surprised when you are made

specific legacies had been made ; and tion being laid against me on this

to make these valid, a will was neces- account.

sary. These legacies would have * Cum delatori locus non sit. Some

diminished Pliny's share or reduced take this to mean, "since there are

it to nothing. Annianus accordingly now no longer any informers," these

tells him that he may treat the codi- pests having been banished by Trajan,

cils as so much waste paper. Pliny And so I formerly took it, Introd. to

replies that he shall carry out the Juvenal, Satire I. But the sense evi-

testator's wishes, and that there is dently is, " Tliis is no case for an in-

iio law to prevent him. For the former at all." As he says below,

codicils being legally void, his whole "The public laws are not opposed to

half share reverts to him (subsedit), it." Tliough the worst kind of cZe?a-

and of course he can do with it as tores had been put an end to, yet we

he likes, i.e., pay the above-named iire not to suppose that informations

lagacies out of it. There is clearly might not still be laid, e.rf., as among

no ground, he adds, for any inf orma- us for violation of the excise laws, &c.

BOOK 11. 6 1

acquainted with the charms of the viHa, the advantages of
the situation, and the stretch of tlie sea-coast. It is only
seventeen miles distant from town, so that liavimj cot
through all you had to do, you can go and stay there with
your day's work already secured and disposed of.''' There
is access to it by more than one road, for the Laurentine
and Ostian highways lead in the same direction ; only, you
must branch off from the Laurentine at the fourteenth and
the Ostian at the eleventh milestone. Either way, the next
part of the road is for some distance sandy, rather heavy
and slow-going for a pair, but short and soft for a saddle-
horse. The prospect is constantly varying : at one time
the road is hemmed in by woods which close in upon you :
at another, it stretches through broad pastures and opens
out before you : you see numerous flocks of sheep, and
troops of horses, and herds of cattle, which are driven
down from the hills in winter, and grow sleek on the
herbage and in the spring temperature. The house is
sufficient in point of accommodation without being expen-
sive to keep up. As you enter, there is a vestibule, plain
but not mean ; next a hall with columns, rounded in the
form of the letter D, enclosing a small but pleasant space,
an excellent retreat against stormy weather, being pro-
tected by glazed windows and still more by overhanging
eaves. Facing the middle of it is a courtyard of cheerful
aspect; next, a rather handsome dining-room which projects
on to the shore, so that whenever the sea is raised by
the south-west wind, it is just wetted by the last spray of
the broken waves. It is furnished all round with folding-
doors, or windows as large as folding-doors, so that with
its sides and its front it faces as it were three different
seas. At the back it looks through the courtyard, the
hall with the columns, the open space, the haU again, then
the vestibule, right to the woods and distant hills. To the
left of this, a little way back, is a large saloon, and next

* SaJvo jam et composito die is other sense out of the words than
variously rendered : but I can get no that given above.

62 PLINY'S LETTERS.

to it another smaller one, which admits the morning sun
through one window and enjoys the last of the evening
sun through another. From this there is a more distant
but more sheltered view of the sea below. By the pro-
jection of this saloon and the dining-room just mentioned,
an angle is formed which holds and intensifies the bright-
est sunshine. This is my winter-snuggery, this is also the
place of exercise for my household : here every wind is
stilled, except such as bring clouds with them, and only
drive us from the spot by obscuring the clear sky. In
connection with this angle is a saloon with a dome-shaped
roof, with windows on all sides so as to follow the circuit
of the sun ; in its wall, shelves are inserted, like those of
a library, holding books of the kind that are not merely
read but studied. Adjoining this is a sleeping-room, with
a passage intervening, which is furnished with pipes under-
neath so as to circulate and supply the warm air which it
collects at a wholesome temperature. The remainder of
this wing serves for the accommodation of the slaves and
freedmen, most of the rooms being so neat that they
might be occupied by my visitors.

In the opposite wing there is a tastefully decorated
saloon, and next to it what may be called either a large
saloon or a moderate-sized dining parlour, which is
brightened by a profusion of sunshine and an extensive
sea- view : behind this a room with an anteroom, suitable
for summer use owing to its height, and for winter from
the manner in which it is protected, for it is out of reach
of any wind. To this chamber another one with an ante-
room is attached by a party- wall. Next comes the cool-
ing room of the bath, spacious and wide, from the opposite
walls of which two curved plunging-baths are thrown out,
as it were, quite large enough when you remember that
the sea is close by.* Adjoining this is the sweating and
anointing room, and next to that the passage communicat-
ing with the bath-furnace, then two small apartments in

* Tliat is, for those who wanted cold baths.

BOOK II. 63

an elegant rather than costly style : in continnation is a
splendid warm swimming-bath, from which the swimmers
have a view of the sea; not far off is the tennis-court,
which faces the warmest sun in the afternoon. Here a
tower is erected with two sitting-rooms under it, and the
same number in it, in addition to a dining-parlour which
looks upon a broad expanse of sea and a long line of coast
with charming villas. There is also a second tower, and
in it a room which enjoys both the rising and setting sun :
behind it a spacious storeroom and granary, and below
a dining-room, which, when the sea is rough, is exposed
only to its roar and its noise, and even that much sub-
dued and but faintly heard. It looks upon the garden
and the promenade which encloses the garden. This pro-
menade is planted round with box, or with rosemary where
the box fails ; for box, when protected by buildings, grows
freely ; in the open air and exposed to the wind and the
spray of the sea, even at a distance, it withers. Next to
the promenade, in the inner circle which it forms, is a
plantation of young vines, affording shade, and soft and
yielding to walk in, even with bare feet. The garden is
clothed with a number of mulberry-trees and fig-trees —
trees which the soil hereabouts is particularly productive
of, while it is unfavourable to other kinds. This is the
prospect, no less agreeable than that of the sea, which is
enjoyed from the dining-room out of sight of the sea. It
has at its back two parlours whose windows command the
vestibule, and another garden, a productive kitchen one.
From this point run out some cloisters, almost important
enough for a public construction. There are windows on
both sides, but the greater number on that of the sea,
those facing the garden being single ones, and fewer by
the alternate corresponding windows, which are left out.*

* Utrimquefenestrae,amaripJures, siugulae," would be clearer. It

ah horto singulae, scd alternis pauci- seems probable that on the sea-side

ores. Kail's conjecture " Utrimque a line of windows extended along the

. . . ab h^rto pauciores, sed alternis whole range of the cloisters : towards

64 PLINY'S LETTERS.

When the day is clear and still, all of them can be opened ;
when the wind blows on one side or the other, those on
the side not exposed to the wind can be left open without
inconvenience.*

In front of these cloisters is a terrace walk fragrant
with violets. The cloisters increase, by their radiation,
the warmth of the sun which strikes on them, and in like
manner as they hold the sun, they also repel and ward off
the north wind ; so that the warmth which they give in
front is equalled by the coolness they afford behind. In
the same way they arrest the south-west wind, and thus,
by means of one or other of their sides, they break the
force of, and put an end to, winds coming from the most
opposite quarters. These are the advantages of the cloisters
in winter ; in summer they are still greater. For before
midday they keep cool the terrace walk, and in the after-
noon the part of the promenade and the garden nearest
them, by their shadow, which, according as the day in-
creases or declines, falls longer and shorter on this side
or on that. The cloisters themselves, however, are most
free from sun when the sun strikes with its fiercest heat
directly on their roof. Add to this that through their
open windows the west winds are received and transmitted,
so that they are never rendered unpleasant by closeness
and want of circulation in the air.

At the end of the terrace is a chalet, which I am quite in
love with — yes, literally in love with — for I built it myself.
In it there is a sunny apartment which faces the terrace
walk on one side and the sea on the other, and on both
sides enjoys the sun ; also an apartment with folding-
doors which open on the cloisters, and a window towards
the sea. In the middle of the M^all there is a very tasteful
recess, furnished with a glass partition and curtains, by

thegar(len,separate(.S(wr/!(^ae)winclows * When the north wind blew from

were inserted in the wall, the blank the garden-side, the windows on that

space between them corresponding to side would be shut, and those on the

an opposite window on the sea-side. sea-side opened, and vice versa.

BOOK II. 65

drawing or undrawing which you can either throw it into
the apartment or shut it off. It has room for a couch and
two seats. At your feet you have the sea, behind you the
neighbouring villas, at your head the woods. Such is the
variety of scenes, which may be viewed separately through
as many windows, or blended in one. Next to this is a
sleeping-room for the night, impervious to the voices of
the slave-boys, the murmur of the sea, the raging of storms,
the flash of the lightning, to the light of day even, unless
the windows are oj)ened. The cause of such deep and
isolated seclusion is, that an intervening passage separates
the wall of the bedroom from that which faces the garden,
and so every sound is deadened by this empty space lying
between the two. In connection with the sleeping-room
is a small heating apparatus, through which the heat
underneath is given out or retained, as occasion requires,
by means of a little trap-door. Beyond this a bedroom
with a dressing-room project towards the sun, catching it
as soon as it rises, and retaining its rays — though they
fall on it ohliqudy — at anyrate, retaining them, till after
midday. On betaking myself to this chalet, it seems to
me that I have got away even from my own villa, and
I derive especial enjoyment from it at the time of the
Saturnalia, while the other parts of the establishment
are ringing with the license and the mirthful shouts of
that season ; for then I am no impediment to the gambols
of my servants, nor are they to my studies.

Amidst all these conveniences and attractions there is
a want of running water ; but there are wells, or rather
springs, for they are on the surface. Indeed, the character
of this sea-coast is altogether remarkable; at whatever
place you turn the soil, an immediate supply of water pre-
sents itself, quite pure, and not rendered in the slightest
degree brackish by the immediate vicinity of the sea. The
neiQ[hbourinCT woods furnish fuel in abundance ; the rest
of our supplies the town of Ostia finds us. Indeed, a man
of moderate requirements might be sufficiently provided

E

66 PLINY'S LETTERS.

even at the neighbouring village, which is separated from
me by one gentleman's residence only. In this village
there are three public baths, a great convenience when-
ever either an unexpected arrival, or want of time,
prevents us from heating the bath at home. The coast
is ornamented in the most pleasing variety by villa con-
structions, at one place continuous, at another detached,
so as to present the appearance of a number of towns,
whether you look at them from the sea or the shore itself.
This last is often smooth after a long calm, but it is more
often hardened by the constant beating of the waves upon
it. The sea does not abound in choice fish, it is true, yet
it yields excellent soles and lobsters.* My villa, however,
furnishes inland produce as well, milk especially ; for the
cattle collect here from their pastures, whenever they are
in search of water or shade.

Now, do I seem to you to have just cause for inhabiting
this retreat, for making my home in it, and delighting in
it ? You are a perfect cockney if you are not eager to be
here. Ah ! and how I wish you were eager, that the charms
so great and so numerous of my little villa might be further
enhanced to the highest degree by your company !

(i8.)

To Mauricus.

"What more agreeable commission could I have received
from you than that of looking out for a teacher for your
brother's boys ? For, by this kind act of yours, I am sent
back to school myself, and am able, as it were, to resume
that delightful age of youth. I sit among young people,
as formerly.t and learn in addition how much considera-
tion my pursuits J give me in their eyes. For lately, in

* Squilla sometimes means a lob- cordingly attended several of their
star or crayfish, as in Juv. v. ; some- classes, in order to judge of their re-
times a prawn, as in Hor. Sat. ii. It spective qualifications,
may mean either here. + Studiis. What he means by this

t It was a public teacher, to whose modest word is his reputation for

lectures he might send his nephews, oratory, learning, &c.
that Mauricus required. Pliny ac-

BOOK II. 67

a crowded lecture-room, some of them were talkincj out
loud in tlie presence of a number of senators ; * at my
entrance they all held their tongues, — a circumstance
which I should not relate if it did not redound to their
credit more than my own, and if I did not wish you to
entertain the hope that your nephews may attend the
schools with advantage.f For the rest, when I have heard
all the professors, you shall have in writing my opinion of
each ; and I will try and make you — as far, at least, as
this can be accomplished in a letter — imagine that you
yourself have heard them all. This zeal and fidelity I owe
to you, and to the memory of your brother, particularly in
a matter of such importance. For what can be of greater
import to you than that these boys (I would say, of yours,
but that now you love them more than if they were your
own) should be found worthy of such a father as him, such
an uncle as you! — an object of solicitude which, even if
you had not enjoined it on me, I should have appropriated
to myself. Not that I am unaware that many jealousies
will have to be incurred by me in this matter of choosing
a teacher : however, it is my duty to put up with such
jealousies, and even with ill-will, on behalf of your
nephews, as readily as parents do on behalf of their ovv^n
children.

(I9-)

To Cerealis.

You advise me to read my speech aloud to a party of
friends. I will do so, because you advise it, though I
have very strong doubts. One can't forget that speeches,
when recited, lose all their spirit and fire, and almost the
name of speeches, being productions which are favoured,
as well as stimulated, by the assemblage of the judges,
the crowd of assistants, the expectation of the issue, the

* Grown-up people often attended + Probe disccre, to attend the public
the classes of the more eminent lee- lectures with no injury to their man-
turers. ners, &c.

68 PLINY'S LETTERS.

reputation of more than one speaker, and the divided
partialities of the audience. Add to this the speaker's
gestures, his gait, his shiftings of position even, and the
bodily animation corresponding to all the movements of
the mind. The consequence is, that those who speak
sitting, though they may enjoy in other respects nearly
the same advantages as those who stand, yet, from this very
circumstance that they are seated, are, as it were, debili-
tated and depressed. In the case of those indeed who
recite, the chief aids to expression, the eyes and hands,
are impeded : hence it is not to be wondered at that the
attention of the audience languishes, when charmed from
without by none of the graces, and roused by none of the
stings of oratory. To this must be added that the oration
to which I am referring is of a disputatious and argumen-
tative character. Moreover, it is only natural to suppose
that what we have written with pains will put the hearer
to some pains as well. And, to be sure, how few hearers
there are so unprejudiced as not to be pleased rather with
those sweet and harmonious periods than with what is dry
and concise ? This divergence of taste is truly discredit-
able ; yet it exists, since it generally happens that the audi-
ence requires one thing and the judges another, whereas,
on the contrary, the hearer ought to be particularly
affected by that which would move him most of all if he
were himself in the position of a judge. Yet it may
happen that, in spite of these difficulties, the originality of
the work may recommend it : its originality, that is, in our
country. The Greeks have a certain mode of treatment,
which, though the converse of mine, is not altogether
unlike it. For just as it was their custom, when they
charged upon a new law that it conflicted with former
laws, to establish this charge against it by a comparison
of it with others, so in arguing that my contention was
supported by the law against extortion, I had to collect
this from the law itself, as also from others. This is a
mode of treatment which, being anything but agreeable to

BOOK II. 69

the ears of the ici;norant, ouoht to obtain all the more
favour from those who are instructed, in proportion as it
obtains less from those who are not. However, if I decide
to recite, I will take care to invite people of learning.
But by all means weigh in your mind whether, with all
this, there is still ground for reciting : dispose on either
side these random reckonings of mine, and choose that to
which reason inclines. For a reason is required of you ; as
for me, I shall find my excuse in having followed you.

(20.)

To Calvisius.

Get ready your copper, and here is a golden little story
for you ; stories rather — for this new one has reminded
me of some older ones, nor does it matter which I choose
to start with. Verania, the wife of Piso — I mean the
Piso whom Galba adopted — lay seriously ill. Eegulus
called upon her. Consider, first, the impudence of the
fellow in calling on a sick woman, when he had been the
greatest enemy to her husband, and was extremely odious
to herself. However, this might pass, if he had called
merely. What did he do but actually seat himself close to
her bed and interrogate her on the day and hour of her
birth ! As soon as he had been informed, he makes up
his face, stares out of his eyes, wags his lips, sets his
fingers in motion, calculates ; no result ! After keeping
the poor lady a long while on the tenter-hooks of expecta-
tion, " You are," says he, " in a critical period ; however,
you will escape, and to make you more sure of this, I will
consult a soothsayer whom I have frequently employed."
No sooner said than done ; he goes and offers a sacrifice,
and declares that the entrails tally with the prognostics
of the stars. With the usual credulity of persons who are
in danger, she calls for her tablets and writes down a
legacy for Eegulus. Before long she grows worse, crying
out with her dying breath upon the roguery and perfidy

70 PLINY'S LETTERS.

of the fellow, and his worse than perjury, since he had
forsworn himself to her by the life of his own son.
Eegulus does this frequently, and no less wickedly, since
he is invoking the anger of the gods, whom he himself
deceives daily, on the vicarious head of his unfortunate
boy.

Velleius Blaesus, the wealthy man of consular rank,
being at the point of death, was desirous of altering his
will. Eegulus, who had lately taken to toady him, hoped
for something from a new disposition of property, so h-e
began to exhort and to entreat the doctors to prolong by
all means in their power the good gentleman's life. As
soon as the will was executed, he changed his roh, and
reversing his tone, called out to the same doctors, " How
long are you going on tormenting the poor man ? Why
grudge an easy death to one on whom you cannot bestow
life ? " Blsesus died, and, as though he had heard every-
thing, left not a rap to Eegulus.

Will these two stories do for you, or, after the fashion
of the schools, do you call for a third ? * Well, I have
the materials. Aurelia, a lady of distinction, being about
to execute her will, had clothed herself in her handsomest
attire.f Eegulus having come to attest it, said, " I beg
you will leave me those clothes of yours." Aurelia thought
the man was jesting, but he insisted seriously. To make a
long story short, he compelled the lady to open her will
and to bequeath to him the clothes she had on ; he
watched her as she was writing, and looked to see whether
she had written the bequest. Aurelia, to be sure, is still
alive, though he compelled her to do this, just as though
she had been at the point of death. And he gets made
heir at one time and receives legacies at another, just as if
he deserved it all !

* This alludes to some practice in or tliese were supported by three ex-

the schools with which we are un- amples, or something analogous,

acquainted. Either discourses were t The usual Roman practice on

commonly divided into three heads, these occasions.

BOOK II. 71

But why put myself to trouble in the case of a city iu
which, long since, rogueiy and dishonesty receive no less
rewards, indeed greater ones, than honour and virtue ?
Look at Kegulus, who from a poor and humble condition
has advanced to such great wealth by his misdeeds, that
he himself informed me of his consulting the omens as to
how soon he should get up to sixty millions of sesterces,*
and finding double entrails, which portended that he
would become possessed of one hundred and twenty
millions. And he will possess that sum too, if only he
goes on as he has begun, dictating wills not really their
own — the worst kind of fraud^to the very persons who
make them.

* About ;^48o,ooo of our money.

( 72 )

BOOK III.

(lO

To Calvisitjs.

I DO not know that I have ever spent a more agreeable
time than that lately passed by me in the company of
Spurinna; so much so, indeed, that there is no man whom
I would sooner take for my model in old age — provided
always it be given me to grow old — for nothing can be
better distributed than his mode of life. And for my part,
just as the stars with their fixed course, so do the lives of
men best please me when they are methodical, and this
particularly in the case of old men. In young men a cer-
tain confusion as yet, and a certain disorder, so to speak,
are not unbecoming : a general repose and regularity are
suitable to age, a time when activity is out of date and
ambition is discreditable. To this regularity Spurinna
most steadfastly adheres ; nay, more, he goes through a
round of the following small occupations — that is, such as
would be small if they were not done daily — in a kind of
order, and, as it were, orbit. In the early morning he
lies on his couch ; at eight o'clock he calls for his shoes ;
then he walks three miles, exercising his mind all the
time as well as his limbs. If friends are with him, there is
conversation of a most elevated kind; if not, a book is read to
him, and that, too, sometimes even when there are friends
present, provided always it does not inconvenience them.
Then he sits down, and there comes a book again, or con-
versation in preference to a book. Soon afterwards he steps
into his carriage, taking with him his wife, a woman of a
remarkable character, or else some one of his friends, as, for

BOOK III. 72,

instance, lately, myself. What a glorious, what a charming
Ute-dj-Ute it is ! How much you learn in it of the old world !
What deeds, what men you hear of ! With what precepts
are you imbued ! though he has so tempered his modesty as
never to appear to be teaching. Seven miles having been got
over in this way, he again walks a mile, and once more sits
down, or betakes himself to his sofa and his pen. For he
writes lyrical poems with great skill, in Greek, too, as well
as in Latin. There is a wonderful sweetness about them^
a wonderful flavour and sauciness, and their charm is en-
hanced by the purity of the writer's own life. When the
hour of the bath is announced (and this is three o'clock in
winter, two o'clock in summer), he takes a turn without
his clothes in the sun, if there be no wind. "Then he plays
energetically, and for a good while, at tennis ; for this too
is a kind of exercise with which he fights against old a<Te.
After his bath' he lies down, and puts off dining for a short
time. In the interval he has some licrht and amusinfj
book read to him. During all this time his friends are at
liberty either to do as he does, or, if they prefer it, to
occupy themselves in some other way. Dinner is then put
on the table, with as much good taste as simplicity, on a
service of plain old silver. Vessels of Corinthian brass are
in use too. These he delights in without being extrava-
gantly addicted to them. The dinner is often accompanied
at intervals by the performances of comedians,* that even
our bodily pleasures may be seasoned by mental ones.
He trenches somewhat upon the night, even in summer ;
but no one deems this, tedious, with such courtesy is the
entertainment .protracted. From all this it results that,
though he has completed his seventy-seventh year, he has
the perfect use of his ears and eyes, with a frame active
and full of vitality : his sagacity alone he owes to his age.
Such is the kind of life which I look forward to on my
own account in wish and in tliought, and which I shall
enter on with the greatest eagerness so soon as a regard

* See Bk. i. Letter 15, These were probably in the nature of " readings,"

74 PLINY'S LETTERS.

for my advancing years shall permit me to sound the
retreat. Meanwhile I am exhausted by a thousand labours,
with respect to which this same Spurinna is at once
my solace and my example. Por he, too, as long as it
became him, served offices, discharged public functions,
governed provinces ; and it was by hard work that he
became entitled to this repose. I propose, then, to myself
the same course as his and the same goal; and now at
once enter into an engagement with you to that effect, so
that if you should see me carried beyond the mark, you
may call me to account on the strength of this letter, and
bid me go into retirement when I shall be able to do so
without incurring the charge of indolence.

(2.)

To Maximus.

What I should have voluntarily offered your friends,
had I the same abundance of opportunities as yourself, I
now think myself entitled to ask of you for my friends.
Arrianus Maturus is a leading man at Altinum. When I
say a leading man, I am not speaking of his means, which
are large, but of his piety, his integrity, his respectability,
his sagacity. He is one to whose judgment I resort in
matters of business, as also to his taste in my literary
pursuits, as being so greatly distinguished for his honesty,
truthfulness, and intelligence. He loves me (there is no
stronger expression) as you do. But he lacks ambition ;
consequently he has contented himself with the grade of
a knight, though he might with ease rise to the highest
rank. It must be my business, however, to see that he is
advanced and honoured. It is therefore a great point with
me to add somewhat to his position, without his expecting,
without his knowing, or perhaps even desiring it ; more-
over, to add to it in a way which shall confer lustre with-
out entailing trouble on him. The first time you have
anything of this description at your disposal, please bestow

BOOK III. 75

it on him. You will make him, as well as myself, your grate-
ful debtor; for, though not seeking such favours, he receives
them with as much gratitude as if he coveted them.

(3.)

To COEELLIA HiSPULLA.

I looked up to and loved (and I know not which was
the stronger feeling) that most esteemed and virtuous man
your father. And I have a singular regard for you for the
sake of his memory, and on your own account. Hence it
must necessarily follow that I should desire, and, indeed, as
far as in me lies, I shall labour, that your son may turn out
like his grandfather. His maternal grandfather would be
my choice, though to be sure he has been favoured with
one on the father's side who was also a distinguished and
approved man. And his father, too, and his paternal
uncle were, ,J2ieir of note and of great- reputation. All of
whom he will grow up to resemble on one condition — that
he be made to imbibe a liberal education ; and it makes a
vast difference from whom in particular he derives this
education. As yet his boyish condition has confined him
to your family circle ; he has had tutors at home, where
there is small opportunity, or even none at all, for going
astray. Now, however, his studies must be carried for-
ward outside your doors, Now is the time when we must
look about for a Latin rhetoric professor of whose scho-
lastic discipline and respectability, above all, of whose
morality, we are assured. For our young friend, in addi-
tion to all the other gifts of nature and fortune, possesses
remarkable personal beauty, in view of which, at his
critical age, not a preceptor merely, but a guardian and
governor is required.

Under these circumstances, I think I can point out to
you Julius Genitor, I have a great esteem for him ; yet my
regard for the man does not prejudice my judgment, since
it is the offspring of my judgment. He is a person of un-

76 PLINY'S LETTERS.

blemished respectability, perhaps even a trifle too austere
and blunt if we consider the looseness of our asre. As to
the value of his eloquence, there are many whose word
you may take on that point, for his powers of speech, being
evident and on the surface, are immediately perceived.
The existence of man, however, conceals deep recesses and
huge secret nooks, and on this head you must accept me
as sponsor for Genitor. From this individual your son
will hear nothing that will not be of advantage to him ; he
will learn nothing which it would be better not to have
learnt, nor will he be less frequently reminded by Genitor
than by you and by me of the ancestral effigies with which
he is weighted, of the names, and the great names, he has to
maintain. Accordingly, under favour of the gods, entrust
him to a preceptor from whom he will learn morals first
and afterwards eloquence, which, if morals are Hot taught
with it, is learnt to small advantage.

(4-)
To Macrinus.

Though the friends who were by me, and also public
report, seem to have approved of what I have done, yet I
make a great point of learning your opinion. For as, be-
fore acting, I should have wished to seek your advice, so
now that the matter is settled, I am particularly anxious
to have your judgment on it.

During my absence in Tuscany, whither I had made an
excursion for the purpose of inaugurating a public work at
my own expense — having obtained leave of absence from
my post of praefect of the Treasury — some envoys from the
province of Bsetica, who were about to enter a plaint on
the subject of the administration of Crecilius Classicus,
applied to the Senate to have me for their advocate. My
excellent colleagues, full of regard for me, began to talk of
the engagements of our common office, and sought to make
my excuses and get me off. The Senate passed a decree.

BOOK III. 'j'j

extremely flattering to me, to the effect that I should be
appointed to defend the interests of the provincials, if they
should first have obtained my personal consent. The
envoys being again introduced, a second time demanded
me (who was by this time present) for their advocate, im-
ploring my assistance, which they had already enjoyed
against Massa Bsebius, and alleging a compact on my part
to defend their interests. The Senate received this with
the loud applause * which usually preludes their decrees.
Upon this I said, " Conscript Fathers, I cease to think that
I have alleged any just grounds for excusing myself."
The modesty of this speech and the way the thing was
put were approved. I was urged, however, to this resolve
of mine not merely by the unanimity of the Senate —
though this had the greatest weight — but by other consi-
derations, which, though of less, were still of some account.
It occurred to my mind that our ancestors pursued the
wrongs down even to individual friends, and that too by
prosecutions voluntarily undertaken ; hence I deemed it
all the more disgraceful to neglect the duties imposed by
a public connection. Lloreover, when I recollected what
were the actual dangers incurred by me on behalf of these
same Bistici on the first occasion of my appearing for them,
it seemed to me that the value of past obligations would
be best preserved by the addition of new ones. Indeed
things are so constituted that services of older date are
cancelled if you do not heap fresh ones on them. For
however often you may have obliged people, yet if you
refuse them any one thing, this thing which you have
refused is the only one which they will remember. I was
further prevailed upon by the fact that Classicus was dead,
and the consideration, which is generally the most painful
in cases of this kind, removed — I mean the danger run by a
senator. Hence I saw as the result of my advocacy no less
success than if he had been alive, with the absence of all

* Clarissima assensione. Gierig orable to me." But the above sense
takes clarissima to mean '• most hou- seems to me simpler.

78 PLINY'S LETTERS.

odium. To sum up, I reckoned that after discharging this
office as much as three times, it would be more easy to ex-
cuse myself should any case occur in which it would not be
becoming for me to prosecute ; for as there must be some end
or other to every kind of function, so ready submission is
the best means of preparing the way for a grant of release.
You have heard the motives of my resolution. It re-
mains to hear your opinion one way or the other ; as to
which, plain-spokenness in your dissent will be not less
agreeable to me than the authority of your approval

(50
To B^Bius Macer.

I am much pleased at your being so diligent a student
of my uncle's books that you wish to have them all, and
inquire the names of all. I wall fill the part of a cata-
logue, and will further inform you of the order in which
they were written ; this also being a kind of information
not unwelcome to the studious. " On Cavalry Javelin-
Exercise, in one book." This he wrote, with as much abi-
lity as care, during his campaigns as commander of the
allied cavalry. " The Life of Pomponius Secundus, in two
books," a man who had cherished a singular regard for
him, so that in this work he discharged, as it were, a duty
which he owed to the memory of his friend. " The Ger-
man Wars, in twenty books," in which he collected all the
wars which we have waged with the Germans. This he
commenced durmg a campaign in Germany, by admoni-
tion of a dream. During his sleep there stood by him the
form of Drusus Nero (who, after triumphing far and wide
over the Germans, died in their country), commending his
memory to my uncle, and entreating the latter to rescue
him from unmerited oblivion. " The Student, in three
books," divided into six volumes on account of their
length, in which the orator is trained from his very cradle
and perfected, " On Doubtful Phraseology, in eight

BOOK IIL 79

books." He wrote this under Nero, in tlie last years of his
reign, when every kind of literary pursuit which was in
the least independent or elevated had been rendered dan-
gerous by servitude. " A Continuation of Aufidius Bassus,
in thirty-one books." "Natural History, in thirty-seven
books," a work of great compass and learning, and no less
varied than nature itself.

You are astonished that a busy man should have com-
pleted such a number of volumes, many of them on such
intricate subjects ; you will be still more astonished when
you learn that for a considerable time he practised at the
bar, that he died in his fifty- sixth year, and that between
these two periods he was much distracted and hindered,
partly by the discharge of important offices, and partly by
his intimacy with the emperors. But his was a piercing
intellect, an incredible power of application, an extra-
ordinary faculty of dispensing wdth sleep. He began to
work by candlelight at the feast of Vulcan, not with the
view of seizing an auspicious occasion, but for the purpose
of study immediately after midnight ; in winter, indeed, at
one o'clock in the morning, or at the latest at two, often at
midnight.* To be sure sleep came to him very easily, over-
taking him at times, or leaving him, even in the midst of his
studies. Before daybreak he used to repair to the Emperor
Yespasian (who as well as himself worked by night), and
after that to his official duties. On his return home, he
gave the rest of his time to study. After partaking in the
course of the day of a light and digestible t meal in the

* The Vulcanalia were on the 23d light on this day, as being a conve-
of August. "It was customary on nient date, and so continued them,
this day to commence working by As the Romans divided the day-
candlelight, which was probably con- light, whether long or short, into
sidered as an auspicious beginning of twelve equal hours, and similarly the
the use of fire, as the day was sacred night, it is obvious that the hours
to the god of this element" (Diet, (sejitima, octava, &c.) would vary, and
G. and R. Antiquities). The elder the translations " one o'clock," "two
Pliny, we are led vo suj)pose, did not, o'clock," in the text are merely given
like other students, observe this prac- for the sake of convenience,
tice once, and then leave it ofiE. He + Facilem, sc. ad concoquendum.
\ commenced his studies by candle- Messrs. Prichard and Bernard(Selected

8o PLINY'S LETTERS.

old-fashioned style, he would often in summer, if he
had any spare time, lie in the sun, when a book was
read to him, of which he made notes and extracts. In-
deed, he read nothing without making extracts ; he used
even to say that there was no book so bad as not to
contain something of value. After his sunning he com-
monly took a cold bath ; then he lunched * and went to
sleep for a very short time. Shortly afterwards, as though
he were beginning a fresh day, he studied on till dinner-
time. At this meal a book was read out and passing
comments made upon it. I remember that one of his
friends, on the reader mispronouncing some words,
stopped him and made him repeat them, upon which my
uncle said, " Surely you understood him ? " His friend
said, " Yes." " Why then did you stop him ? We have,
lost more than ten verses by this interruption of yours."
So parsimonious was he of his time.

In summer he rose from dinner by daylight; in winter
before seven,! as though constrained by some law.' Such
was his life in the midst of his avocations and the bustle
of the city. In the country, only his bathing-time was
exempted from study. When I say bathing, I am speaking
of the actual bath inside, for while he was- being rubbed
and dried he was read to or dictated. When travelling,
as though freed from every other care, he devoted himself
to study alone. At his side was a secretary,^ with a book
and tablets, whose hands were protected in winter by
gloves, so that not even the rigour of the season might rob
my uncle of any time for study ; for which reason, in
Eome, too, he used to be carried in a sedam I remember
being reproved by him for taking a walk. " You might,"

Letters of Pliny) take it as "simple, served this term in their "■'gofiter"

easy to be got, not dear," quoting Pe- which, if we take cena as "supper,"

tronius 93. Burmann on this passage would correspond somewhat to our

ofPetronius gives other examples. But "tea."

this sense does not seem quite so suit- f In the dead of the winter, be-

able here, and the word will clearly fore about half-past seven. See not<»

bear the other one. above.

* Gustabat. The French have pre- J Or shorthand writer — notarius

BOOK III. 8 1

said he, " have avoided ^ya3ting those hours." For he
thought all time wasted which was not employed in study.
By dint of this intense application he completed all those
numerous volumes, and left me one hundred and sixty
books of " selections," written on both sides of the parch-
ment and in an extremely small hand, which makes their
number really much larger. He used to relate himself
that when he was procurator in Spain he might have sold
these books to Lar^ius Licinus for four hundred thousand
sesterces,* and at that time there were rather fewer of
them.

Does it not seem to you, when you recollect how much
he read and how much he wrote, that he could never
have been engaged in any public offices or in attendance
on the sovereign ? And, on the other hand, when you
hear how laboriously he toiled at his studies, w^ould you
not think that he neither wrote nor read enough ? For
what is there that would not be impeded by such occupa-
tions as his ? On the other hand, what is there that could
not be accomplished by such unflagging industry ? Hence
I am in the habit of laughing when some folks call me
studious, who if compared with him am the idlest of the
idle. / only, do I say, distracted as I am partly by
public calls, partly by those of friendship ? Why, who of
those who devote their whole lives to letters, when com-
pared with him, will not have to blush as a sluggard and
a trifler ?

I have extended my letter, though proposing originally
to give you the required information only, the names of
the books he had left behind. Yet I am confident that
all this additional matter will prove as acceptable to you
as the books themselves, since it may incite you, by the
stimulus of emulation, not merely to read them, but to
elaborate something of the same kind yourself.

* About ;^3200.

F

82 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(6.)

To Annius Severus,

Out of a legacy that fell to me I bouglit lately a figure
of Corinthian brass, which, though small, is spirited and
bold, as far as my taste goes ; which taste, perhaps, in all
matters, and assuredly in this one, is of infinitesimal value.
However, this is a figure which even / can appreciate ;
for it is nude, so that its defects, if it has any, are not con-
cealed, and its merits are fully brought to view. It repre-
sents an old man standing : bones, muscles, sinews, veins,
wrinkles even, appear as of one breathing, the hair is
scanty and retreating from the brow, the forehead broad,
the face shrivelled, the neck thin, the arms droop, the
breasts are flat, the belly is drawn in. The back exhibits
the same age, as far as a back can. The brass itself, to
judge from its colour, which is of the right sort, must be
antique. In short, everything about it is of a character to
arrest the eyes of an artist, as well as to delight those who
are not connoisseurs. And this it was Avhich tempted
such a tyro as myself to the purchase. /However, I have
bought it, not to place in my house (where up to this time
I have never had anything in the way of Corinthian
brasses), but for the purpose of setting it up in my native
parts in some frequented place, and for preference in the
temple of Jupiterj, for it seems an offering worthy of a
temple and worthy of a god. Will you, then, with your usual
attention to my commissions, undertake to see to this, and
at once order a pedestal to be made, of any kind of marble
you please, to contain my name and titles, if you think the
latter should be added ? I will send you the figure itself as
soon as 1 can find some one who will not be incommoded
by it, or (which you would prefer) will bring it with me in
person. For I propose: if, that is, the circumstances of my
office permit of it : to take a trip into your neighbourhood.
You are pleased at my promising to come, but you will

BOOK in. S3

make a wry face when I add that it will only be for a few
days, for the same causes which prevent my starting just
yet will prevent my being absent for a longer time.

(7.)

To Caninius Rufus.

News has lately come of Silius Italicus having put
an end to his life by starvation, at his place near Naples.
The incentive to death was the state of his health. An
incurable swelling had appeared on his person, wearied
with which he hastened to die, with a resolution not to be
diverted from its purpose. He was blessed by fortune
and happy down to his last day, except that he lost the
younger of his two children ; yet the elder and the better
of the two he left behind him in prosperous circumstances,
indeed in the position of a consular.* He had injured his
reputation under Nero, when he was believed to have
played the accuser officiously ; but, as a friend of Vitellius,
he had conducted himself wisely and in a popular way.
He had brought back with him great repute from his ad-
ministration of Asia, and had effaced the stain of his old
industry t hy a life of laudable repose. He was among
the chief men of the state, possessing no power and arous-
ing no hostility. He had many visitors and much atten-
tion shown him ; and, reclining a good deal on a couch in his
apartment — always a resort for company, though not from
regard to his fortunes j — he passed the days in learned
discourse, when he had leisure from writing. He wrote
poems with more pains than genius, and occasionally
tested the taste of the public by reciting them. In the

* ConsM?arts, elsewhere translated "industry" hardly expressing it.

"of consular rank," meant^ originally, His acting as accuser under Nero is

one who had served the office of consul, referred to.

Under the Empire it was an honorary + Fortuna must be taken gene-
title, conferred on others as well. rally, not of mere wealth. He was

+ Industrla. The French " indus- visited for his own sake, not courted

trie" exactly renders this, for which as a man possessing great power, for

we have no exact word in English : he had none.

84 PLINY'S LETTERS.

end, influenced by his years, he retired from Eome and
confined himself to Campania, nor was he drawn thence
even by the accession of a new emperor. Great credit is
due to Caesar, under whom it was free to hifn to act tlms,
and to liim also for daring to profit by this freedom.* l^e
was a coUector.t to such an extent as to be chargeable
with a mania for buying. He had several villas in the
same places, and, as soon as he had conceived an affection
for the new ones, used to neglect the old. He had every-
where a quantity of books and statues and busts, which
last he not only possessed but actually worshipped, that of
Virgil above all others, whose birthday he used to cele-
brate more religiously than his own, particularly at Naples,
where he was wont to repair to his tomb as to a temple.

In this condition of repose he outlived his seventy-fifth
year, being of a delicate rather than an infirm constitu-
tion. As he was the last consul made by Nero, so he was
the last to die of all those whom Nero had made consuls.
And this, too, is remarkable : the last to die of Nero's
consuls was the man in whose consvilship Nero himself
perished. When recalling this, I am seized with pity for
the transient condition of humanity. For what can be so
circumscribed, so short, as the life of man at its longest ?
Does it not seem to you as if Nero had existed quite
lately ? And yet, in the interval, of those who filled the
consulship under him, not one is now remaining. Yet why
be surprised at this ? L. Piso (father of the Piso who was
slain in Africa by the atrocious act of Valerius Pestus)
used to say lately that he saw no one in the senate to
whom, during his own consulship, he had put the ques-
tion from the chair. By such narrow bounds is the exist-
ence of such a multitude J compassed, that, to my mind,
those royal tears we have heard of deserve not only for-

* It was the etiquette for a man in X The senate at this time appears
his position to proceed to Rome and to liave contained about six hundred
pay his respects to the new emperor, members.

f ^CKoKoKos, lit., " a lover of beau-
tiful objects."

BOOK III. 85

giveness but even commendation. For they say that
Xerxes, when he had cast his eyes over his immense army,
wept at the thought that so speedy an end awaited so
many thousands. But so much the rather, with regard to
this our portion, whatever it may be, of poor fleeting time,
if we do not allot it to deeds (for the opportunity for these
is in other hands than ours *), let us at any rate prolong it
by our studies. And inasmuch as length of life is denied
us, let us leave something behind to prove that we have
lived. I know you require no stimulus. Yet my regard
for you causes me to prick you on, even when you are
going your best pace, just as you do to me. 'Tis a goodly
strife when friends, with mutual exhortations, take their
turn at inciting each other to a love of immortality.

(8.)
To Suetonius Tranquillus.

You are acting agreeably to the respect which you
always show me, in asking me so earnestly to transfer the
tribuneship,t obtained by me for you, from that distin-
guished man Neratius Marcellus, to your kinsman Cte-
sennius Silvanus. For my part, as it would have been
extremely agreeable to me to see you a tribune, so it
will be not less pleasing to see another in that position
through your instrumentality. Indeed, it would not, as I
think, be consistent to wish to advance a man in honour,
and yet to deny him the glory to be derived from the
exercise of affection, a glory which is nobler than all hon-
ours. I perceive, too, that, admirable as it is to deserve
favours as well as to bestow them, you will achieve both
kinds of credit at one and the same time, by handing over
to another what you yourself have merited. Moreover, I
observe that it will redound to my glory as well, if, by
this action of yours, it shall become known that my
friends can not only be invested with tribuneships, but even

* In the hands of the gods. + A military tribuneship.

86 PUNY 'S LETTERS.

give them away. So for my part I conform to this most
laudable desire of yours. And to be sure your appoint-
ment is not yet confirmed, so that it is in my power to
substitute the name of Silvanus for yours ; and I hope
your favour will be as agreeable to him as mine is to you.

(9-)
To Cornelius Minicianus.

I can now write you in full of the great exertions under-
gone by me in the state trial instituted by the province of
Baetica; for it involved many points and required fre-
, quent pleadings, presenting much variety. Whence this
variety ? Whence these numerous pleadings ? Csecilius
Classicus, a detestable man, practising no concealment in
his guilt, discharged the proconsulship in that province,
with as much lawlessness as low avarice, the same year
that Marius Prisons was in Africa. Now Prisons came
from Bcetica, and Classicus from Africa. Hence a saying
of the Baitici, and one not devoid of humour, was in cir-
culation— for misery, too, will sometimes make people
witty — " I have bestowed one plague, and received an- ,f,
other." But Marius was accused by only one city puwcty, *^^' \
and by a number of private individuals ; whereas Classicus
was attacked by a whole province. The prosecution was
anticipated by his death, which was either casual or the
result , of his own act ; for though it was unfavourably
spoken of it remained a matter of doubt. Indeed, while
it seemed likely that he should have wished to lay down
his life since he could offer no defence, it seemed equally
strange that a man should, by death, have escaped the
shame of being condemned, who had felt no shame in com-
mitting actions worthy of condemnation. None the less
did the Bsetici persist in accusing him, even after he was
deceased. There was a legal provision to this effect,
though it had fallen into disuse, and after a long interval
it was again applied in this case. They went still further,

BOOK III. Zi

and included in the accusation the accomplices and agents
of Classicus, demanding an inquiry into their conduct and
giving their names.

I appeared for the Bsetici, and with me was Lucceius
Albinus, a fluent and graceful speaker, a man for whom I
had long felt a regard that was mutual, and towards whom,
owing to our association in this affair, I have begun to
cherish an ardent affection. Glory carries with it, espe-
cially in mental pursuits, a certain " unsociableness ; " * yet
between us there was no conflict, no contention, each
exerting himself as an equal yoke-fellow, not on his own
behalf, but on that of the cause, whose importance and
interests seemed to demand that we should not take upon
us to deal with so weighty a matter in a single speech
a-piece. We feared that daylight, that our voices, that
our strength might fail us, if we tied up so many charges,
so many accused persons, in one bundle as it were. Further,
that the attention of the judges might be not only weak-
ened but' actually confused by the multitude of names and
cases. Again, that the interests possessed by individuals,
when thus conjoined in a lump, might lead to each indi-
vidual obtaining the advantage of the whole. Lastly, that
the most influential personages, by offering up the meanest
of the lot as a kind of scapegoat, might slip off under cover
of other folks' punishment. For assuredly favour and in-
trigue are most certairi to prevail when they can shelter
themselves under a specious appearance of severity. We
remembered the example given by Sertorius, who ordered
the strongest and the weakest soldier to pull at the tail
of a horse — you know the rest ; for we, too, saw that so
numerous an array of accused could only be got the better
of, on condition of being attacked singly.

We determined to start with proving the guilt of
Classicus himself ; from this the transition was most
natural to his accomplices and agents, since they could not
be proved to be such, unless he, were guilty. Of this

* ^AkOIVUV7]TOV,

88 PLINY'S LETTERS.

number, we at once tacked on two to Classicns, Bsebins
Probus and Fabius Hispanus, both strong men in point of
interest, Hispanus also in point of eloquence. As to Clas-
sicus, indeed, our work was short and easy. He had left
in writings under his own hand, what he had received
from every transaction and from every cause ; he had even
^jj^v sent letters to Eome'to a certain mistress of his, boasting
and bragging in these very words, " Hurrah ! hurrah ! I
come to you a free * man, having already realised four
millions of sesterces,t by a sale of a portion of the Bsetici."!
With regard to. Hispanus and Probus, we had a great deal
of trouble. Before entering upon their crimes, I thought
it necessary to labour the point of demonstrating that
agency "was a criminal offence, since if I had not estab-
lished this it w.ould have been useless to prove that they
were agents ; for, the defence set up for them was, not
a denial of the charges, but a plea for allowance on the
ground of compulsion. They were provincials, they said,
and were compelled by fear to obey all the proconsul's
orders. Claudius Eestitutus, who replied to me, a prac-
ticed and wary advocate, and one who is prepared for every
emergency, however unexpected, constantly says that
never in his life was he so mystified and perplexed as
when he saw his defence forestalled and robbed of the very
points on which he placed all his reliance. The result of
our joint conduct of the case was this : the senate decided
that the property possessed by Classicus, before going to his
province, should be separated from the remainder and be
handed over to his daughter ; the rest to go to those who had
been despoiled. It was further added that the monies he
had paid his creditors should be refunded by them. His-
panus and Probus were banished for five years. So serious
did those crimes of theirs appear, about which at the outset
doubts were entertained whether they were crimes at all.

* J. c, free from debt. sale of false judgments, and unjust

+ About £32,000. sentences passed on them.

X Parte vendita Baiicorum, — by a

BOOK III. 89

After a few days, we put in accusation Cluvius Fuscus,
a son-in-law of Classicus, and Stilonius Prisons, who had
been tribune of a cohort under Classicus, with different
results, Priscus being banished * from Italy for two years,
and Puscus acqiiitted. In our third suit, we thought it
the most convenient course to proceed against several
persons collectively, lest, if the inquiry were further pro-
tracted, the impartiality and strictness of the judges might
become relaxed through satiety and disgust as it were.
And, besides, there remained certain less important defen-
dants who had been expressly reserved for this stage, with
the exception, however, of Classicus's wife, as to whom,
though she was involved in suspicions, yet it was thought
there were not enough proofs to convict her. Por with
regard to Classicus's daughter, who was also among the
defendants, not even suspicions attached to her. So on
coming to her name in the last suit (for towards the end
of the proceedings we had not to fear, as we should have
done at the beginning, that such a course might weaken
the force of the entire accusation), I deemed it the most
honourable plan not to press on an innocent person, and I
said this frankly and in various ways. On one occasion
I asked the agents of the province whether they could
furnish me with any instructions such as they were confi-
dent could be confirmed by proofs; another time I re-
quested the advice of the senate whether, supposing me
to possess some powers of oratory, they were of opinion
that I ought to aim a kind of weapon, so to speak, at the
throat of an innocent person. In the end, I summed up
the whole subject in these concluding words : " Some one
will perhaps say, ' Do you, then, constitute yourself a
judge ? ' I, indeed, am not judging ; but I remember that
I was assigned as an advocate from among those who are
judges."

The end of this cause, to which so many persons were
parties, was that some were acquitted, and a greater number

* Frisco Italia interdictum. See Letter ii. 11, note.

90 PLINY'S LETTERS.

convicted and further banished, either for a term or for
life. By the same decree of the senate, onr assiduity and-
integrity and intrepidity were attested with the fullest
acknowledgments, a meet reward of our great exertions,
and the only one that could compensate for them. You
can imagine how tired we are, after having had to speak so
often, and so often to altercate,* to interrogate, to come to
the rescue of, to refute such a number of witnesses. Then
see how difficult and jtroublesome it was merely to turn
a deaf ear to the private solicitations of the defendants'
friends, and to bear up against their open opposition. I
will just relate one thing of those I said. On one of the
judges interrupting me with a reclamation on behalf of a
defendant, who enjoyed great interest, " The man," said
I, " will be none the less innocent if I say all I have to
say." t You will conjecture from this what controversies,
what angry feelings even, we had to put up with, at any
rate for a short time. For integrity, though at the actual
time it offends those to whose wishes it is opposed, yet
in the sequel is honoured and praised by these identical
people,

I have introduced you to the scene to the best of my
ability. You will say, " It was not worth while. What
have I to do with such a long letter?" Well, then, don't
you keep asking what is going on in. Eome. And yet re-
member that a letter is not a long one which embraces so
many days and trials, so many defendants in short, and so
many cases ; all of which I fancy I have set forth as
concisely as carefully. Yet I was hasty in saying " care-
fully ; " something occurs to me which I had passed over,
and that, too, somewhat late. Nevertheless, though out

* We have no word for altercor. f This is taken in two ways. "The

"To strive to gain the victory over an man is sure not to be convicted, what-

opponent in a court of justice by put- ever I may say," or, " If the man is

ting questions for him to answer " really innocent, my telling my story

(Riddle and White). The altercatio won't make him the less so." The

is described by Quintilian, vi. 4 ; and latter is better. However, I do not see

we have a specimen of it in Cicero ad why Pliny may not have had both

Att., i. 16. meanings in his mind.

BOOK III. 91

of its order, you shall have it. Homer does this kind of
thing, and a good many others on the strength of his ex-
ample, and it is mighty graceful in other ways. However,
it is not on these accounts that I do it.

One of the witnesses, either angry at having been sub-
pcena'd against his will, or else suborned by one or other
of the defendants with the view of disarming the accusa-
tion, impeached Norbanus Licinianus, an agent of the
j)rovince and solicitor for the prosecution, on a charge of
collusion in the case of Casta (this was the wife of
Classicus). It is a maxim of our law that the case of the
person on trial shall first be completed, and then the ques-
tion of collusion be inquired into ; evidently because the
honesty of a prosecutor is best judged of from the course
of the prosecution itself. In the instance of Norbanus,
however, neither the order prescribed by law, nor the
name of agent and office of solicitor, were any protection to
him : such a blaze of odium enveloped the man, who, be-
sides being otherwise infamous, had made his profit, as many
did,, out of Domitian's times, and who had been selected
onjiihis occasion by the province as their solicitor, not for
his .respectability and integrity, but for his enmity to
Classicus, by whom he had been banished. He requested
t<;jf^fcave a day named for the inquiry, and that the charges
a^nst him should be formulated ; but he obtained neither
request, and was compelled to reply on the spot. He did
reply, — the bad, vicious character of the man makes me
doubt whether I should say with impudence, or with
firmness, certainly with great readiness. Many charges
were brought against him which did him more harm than
that of collusion. Moreover, two men of consular rank,
Pomponius Eufus and Libo Frugi, damaged him by their
evidence to the effect that he had assisted the accusers of
Salvius Liberalis in open court in Domitian's time. He
was found guilty and banished to an island. So, when I
came to prosecute Casta, there was no point which I
pressed more than this one, that her accuser had been con-

92 PLINY'S LETTERS.

victed of collusion. However, I pressed it to no purpose,
for a result followed which was self-contradictory and
novel ; the accuser having been found guilty of collusion,
the defendant was acquitted. You ask what we did
during this affair of Norbanus.* We submitted to the
senate that we had been instructed by him in the matter
of the state trial, and that we ought to be furnished with
an entirely fresh set of instructions if he were proved to
have acted in collusion ; accordingly, while his case was
being proceeded with, we remained in our seats. After
this, Norbanus was present each day at the principal trial
and persevered with the same resolution, or else im-
pudence, to the very end.

I ask myself whether I have again omitted anything,
and again an omission has nearly occurred. On the last
day, Salvius Liberalis strongly inveighed against the re-
maining agents, on the ground that they had not brought
to trial all those whom the province had charged them to
prosecute ; and by his usual force and eloquence he in-
volved them in some risk. I came to the aid of these
men, who are not only very worthy but also very grateful
persons ; at any rate they say publicly that they owe their
escape from such a storm to me. This shall be the end of
my epistle, really and truly the end. I won't add a single
letter, even though I should still feel that something has
been passed over.

(lO.)

To Vestricius Spurinna and Cottia.

I did not tell you, during my recent visit to you, that I
had composed something on your son : first of all, because
I had not written with the object of mentioning it, but
with that of satisfying my affection and my grief ; and

* Dum, haec aguntur, evidently the prosecution of Casta has been in-
refer to the episode of Norbanus. serted imrenthetically and in antici-
What he haa said about his course on patiou.

BOOK in. 93

next, because I believed that you, Spurinna, when you had
heard of my reciting (as you yourself told me was the
case) had heard at the same time what was the subject of
my recitation. Besides, I feared to upset you, in the
midst of festal days, by leading you back to a remem-
brance of your poignant sorrow. Even now, there is some
hesitation on my part whether to forward you, at your
particular request, that portion only which was recited by
me, or to ad,d to it what I meditate reserving for a fresh
volume. It does not, I must tell you, suffice to my affec-
tion to do honour to a memory so beloved and so sacred
in a single poor book ; it would be more to the interest of
his fame that it should be distributed and made the sub-
ject of several compositions. However, in this my hesita-
tion whether to send you all that I have already composed,
or as yet to withhold a portion, it seemed the franker and
more friendly course to send all, particularly as you assure
me that you will keep it to yourselves till I have decided
about publishing. It remains for me to ask you, in case
you think any additions, changes, or omissions should be
made, to indicate them to me with a like frankness. It is
difficult, I know, to put such a strain on the mind in the
midst of sorrow, — very difficult. Yet, just as you would
advise a sculptor or a painter, who should be producing a
likeness of your son, of the points to be brought out or
altered, so. I pray you. to direct and guide me, who am
striving to execute no mere fragile and fleeting portrait,
but (as you suppose) an imperishable one — one which at
any rate will live the longer, the truer, the better, the
more finished it is.

(II.)
To Julius Genitok.

Our dear Artemidorus is altogether of such a kindly
nature that he exaggerates the services of his friends.
Hence, among others, a favour done him by myself is

94 PLINY'S LETTERS.

circulated by him with encomiums which, though genuine,
are above its value. To be sure, after the banishment of
the philosophers from Eome,* I went to see him at his
house in the suburbs, and what made the thing more
subject to remark, in other words more dangerous, was the
fact that I was praetor at the time. Moreover, I advanced
to him without interest (though I had to borrow it myself)
a considerable sum of money, which he required for the
purpose of discharging debts contracted by him under the
most honourable circumstances — while some of his great
and wealthy friends were hemming and hawing over it. And
this I did when seven of my friends had been either put to
death or banished — Senecio, Eusticus and Helvidius had
been put to death ; Mauricus, Gratilla, Arria and Fannia
had been banished — and when scorched, as it were, by so
many thunderbolts falling around me, I augured from
certain sure signs that the same destruction was impend-
ing over myself. Yet I do not on this account consider
that I deserved any extraordinary credit, as he sets forth,
but simply that I avoided disgracing myself; for not
only did C. Musonius, his father-in-law, inspire me with
a regard mingled with admiration {as far as difference of
ages permitted), but this very Artemidorus was cherished
by me in the closest bonds of friendship, as long ago as
when I was soldiering in Syria, in the capacity of tribune.
And the first token of some good natural disposition that
I showed was the fact that I was seen to appreciate a
man, who was either a sage or else approximated to and
closely resembled one ; for of all those who now-a-days
style themselves philosophers, you will hardly find here
and there one so thoroughly honest and genuine. I say
nothing of the bodily endurance with which he bears the
cold of winter equally with the heat of summer, or of how
he recoils before no exertions, how neither in his food nor
in his drink does he allow any part to sensual enjoyment,
how he is master of his eyes and his emotions. Great

* By Domitian.

BOOK III. 95

qualities these : in any other man, that is to say : in his case,
of small account, if they bo compared with his other
virtues, which were such as to merit his being chosen by
C. Musonius as his son-in-law in preference to various
suitors of various ranks. "When I recall these things, it is
certainly gratifying to me that he heaps such praises on
me in your hearing and that of others ; yet' I fear he will
exceed the mark, which his kindly nature (I return, you
see, to my starting-point) does not in general confine itself
to. For though in other respects a most sagacious man,
there is just one mistake that he falls into^^an honourable
one, still a mistake : he values his friends more highly
than they deserve.

(12.)

To Catilius Seveeus.

I will come to your dinner, but must start with bar-
gaining that it be a shor^i and homely one, abounding in
Socratic discourses only, and even as to them preserving
a mean. There will be callers abroad before daylight,*
such as even Cato could not stumble on with impunity,
albeit C. Csesar censures him in such a way as to praise
him. For he relates how those whom Cato encountered,
when they had uncovered his tipsy head, blushed, adding,
" You would think, noit that Cato had been caught in the
act by them, but they by Cato." What greater estima-
tion could be accorded him than to think him so venerable
even in his cups. However, in our dinner let a limit of
time be observed, as well as of service and expense. We,
at any rate, are not such as even enemies cannot find fault
with without praising them at the same time.

* Officia antelucana, "visits of their morning visit of ceremony to

ceremony taking place before day- their patrons and great friends, and

light." "Takecare," says Pliny, "that who will discover us to have taken

our meal is not protracted till such a more than is good for us. Cato it is

time that we shall risk falling in with true (as related by Cassar) did this,

parties of clients, kc, going to pay &c. ; but we are not precisely Catos."

96 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(13-)
To VOCONIUS EOMANUS.

I forward you, at your particular request, the speech in
which I lately returned thanks to our excellent prince, in
my capacity of consul. I should have forwarded it just
the same, if you had not made the request. With regard
to this production, pray consider not only the pleasing
character of the subject, but also its difficulties. For,
while in the case of other subjects, their very novelty
keeps the reader attentive ; as to this one, everything has
been made known, published, said over and over again.
The consequence is that the reader, grown in a manner
indolent and careless, is free to attend to the mode of ex-
pression only, a point in which it is very difficult to give
satisfaction, when it is the only one that is made the
subject of criticism. And I would that the arrangement
at least, and the transitions and the figures of speech,
were equally attended to ; for brilliancy of invention and
grandeur of diction are to be found sometimes even among
the untutored; whereas harmony in arrangement and
variety in ornamentation are in the power of the learned
only. Nor indeed is a high and lofty tone always to
be aimed at : just as, in a picture, nothing so much sets off"
light as shade ; so it is proper to lower as well as to raise
the tone of an oration. But why all this to a man of
your learning ? Eather let me say this : note what you
think ought to be corrected ; for I shall be the more ready
to think that you like the other parts, on being informed
that there are some parts which you dislike.

(14.)

To AciLius.

An atrocious business this — and one deservincr a better
record than a mere letter — the treatment which Largius

I

BOOK III.

97

Macedo, a man of praetorian rank, has suffered at the hands
of his slaves. He was in general a haughty and cruel
master, and one who did not sufficiently remember that
his own father had been in a servile condition, or rather
who remembered it too well. He was bathing at his villa
near Formiae, when all of a sudden his slaves surrounded
him : one sprang at his throat, another struck him on the
face, a third inflicted blows on his chest and belly, and
even, horrible to relate, on other parts of his frame. When
they thought the breath was out of him, they threw him on
the hot pavement, to ascertain whether he was still alive.
On seeing him extended without motion — either because
he was really senseless, or else pretended to be so — they
were satisfied that they had done for him. Then, at last,
they carried him out, under pretence that he had been
suffocated by the heat. His more confidential servants
received the body, and his mistresses ran up with wailings
and shrieks. Whereupon, roused by the sound of voices,
and refreshed by the coolness of the place, he showed that
he was alive — he could do it safely now — by opening his
eyes and by the movements of his body. The slaves fled, of
whom the greater number have been arrested, and the re-
mainder are being searched for. He himself, having been
nursed with difficulty for some days, died, not without the
satisfaction of seeing them punished, for he was avenged
during his lifetime as persons usually are after they have
been slain.

You see to what a number of dangers and affronts and
mockeries we are exposed ; nor has any one reason to feel
secure on the ground of being easy-going and indulgent,
for masters are assassinated, not upon a judgment of their
conduct, but from sheer wickedness. However, so much
for this. What is there further in the way of news ?
What ? Why nothing, else I would add it ; for there is
still room left on my paper, and moreover to-day, being a
holiday, would allow of my stringing together more matter,
I will just add what opportunely occurs to me in relation

G

98 PLINY'S LETTERS.

to this same Macedo. As he was once bathing at the public
baths in Eome, a remarkable, and indeed, as the event
showed, ominous circumstance occurred to him. A Roman
knight, whom Macedo's slave had requested, by a slight
touch of the hand, to allow him to pass, turned round and
struck with his open palm, not the slave by whom he had
been touched, but Macedo himself, with such force that he
nearly knocked him down. So the bath, as it were, by a
kind of gradation, was first a scene of affront and after-
wards of death to him.

(IS.)

To SiLius Proculus.

You ask me to read your short productions in the re-
tirement of the country, and to examine whether they are
worth publishing. You employ prayers and you allege an
authority ; for while you beg me to subtract some odd
hours from my literary pursuits and bestow them on yours,
you add that M. TuUius * was wonderfully kind in encou-
raging poetical dispositions. But neitl^er prayers nor ex-
hortations are required by me. Not only do I entertain a
most religious veneration for the poetic art itself, but also
a very strong regard for you. What you desire, then,
shall be done, with as much diligence as good will. Even
now I think I may write back that your work is pleasing,
and one that should not be suppressed, as far as it was
possible to judge by the portions of it which you recited
in my presence ; that is to say, if your recitation did not
impose on me, for you read in a most charming and ac-
complished way. Yet I am confident of not being so led
by the ears as that all the sharpness of my judgment is
deadened by what captivates thmi. It may possibly be
V>lunted and a trifle dulled, yet it can't be altogether era-
dRatea and ■')s^f^^1?ea'^rom me. So I can pronounce, even

* Cicero.

BOOK III. 99

now, without rashness on your production as a whole ;
as to the parts I will judge of them by a perusal of
them.

(i6.)

To Nepos.

I seem to have observed, with regard to the actions and
utterances of distinguished men and women, that the
most famous are not always the greatest.* This opinion
of mine has been confirmed by what I heard from Fannia
yesterday. The lady is a granddaughter of the celebrated
Arria, who was not only the solace of her husband in
death, but herself set him the example of dying. She
related many traits of her grandmother, not inferior to
this action, though less known ; and I am of opinion that
they will appear as admirable to you when you read of
them as they did to me on hearing of them.

Csecina Psetus, her husband, lay sick, and her son lay
sick too, both of them, as it seemed, to the death. The
son died, a youth of remarkable beauty, and as modest as
he was beautiful, one not less endeared to his parents by
other considerations, than by the fact of his being their
son. She made arrangements for his funeral, and con-
ducted his obsequies in such a way that her husband
knew nothing of the matter. Nay more, whenever she
entered his bed-room, she pretended that their son still
lived, and even that he was somewhat easier, and upon his
frequently inquiring what the boy was doing she would
answer, " He has had a good sleep. He has taken food
with appetite." After ^this, as her tears, long restrained,
were getting the better of her and breaking forth, she
would leave the room. Then she abandoned herself to her
grief. When she had -^vept her full she would return, her
eyes dried, her features composed, as though she had left

* A lia clariora esse alia majora, literally, " that some are more celebrated
and others greater."

loo PLINY'S LETTERS.

her condition of bereavement outside the door. Glorious,
indeed, was tlie conduct of tliis same lady when she drew
the steel and plunged it into her bosom and, extracting
the dagger and handing it to her husband, added those
immortal and well-nigh divine words, " Paetus, it gives no
pain ! " And yet, when she acted and spoke thus, glory
and enduring fame were before her eyes. How much
nobler a thing it was, with no prize of enduring fame or
of glory in view, to hide her tears, to veil her grief, to go
on playing the part of mother when her son was gone !

Scribonianus had taken up arms against Claudius in
Illyricum. Psetus had sided with him, and (Scribonianus
having been killed) was being dragged a prisoner to Eome.
He was about to embark on board ship, when Arria en-
treated the soldiers that she might be allowed to embark
with him. " Surely," said she, " you are going to allow a
man of consular rank some servant-lads to hand him his
food, to help him on with his clothes and his shoes ! /
will do everything for him single-handed." Failing
to obtain her request, she hired a fishing-smack, and
followed the huge vessel in her tiny craft. The same
lady said to the wife of Scribonianus, who had turned
informer, upon the hearing before Claudius, " Can I listen
to you when Scribonianus was killed on your bosom, and
yet you live ! " from which it is plain that the design of
her glorious death was no sudden one.

More than this, when Thrasea, her son-in-law, adjured
her not to persist in putting an end to her life, and among
other things said, " Is it your wish, then, that your daugh-
ter, if ever I should be compelled to die, should die with
me ? " she replied, " If she shall have lived as long and
as united a life with you, as I with Paetus, it is my wish."
This reply increased the anxiety of her friends, and she
was watched more closely than before. Perceiving this,
" You are wasting your time," said she ; " you can, indeed,
bring it to pass that I shall die with difficulty, but not
that I shall fail to die." In the act of speaking, she

BOOK III. loi

sprang from her seat and struck her head with great force
full against the opposite wall, falling to the ground. " I told
you," said she, when she had been brought round by treat-
ment, " that I should find some way, however hard, to death,
if you denied me an easy one." Do not these things seem
to you grander than the celebrated " Psetus, it gives no
pain ! " for which they prepared the way ? And yet, for
all that, one action enjoys great celebrity, and the others
none at all. Hence may be gathered, as I started by say-
ing, that what is most famous is not always the greatest.

(17.)
To Servianus.

Can all be well, that your letters have ceased for some
time past ? Or perhaps all is well, but you are busy ? Or
you are not busy, but you have few or no opportunities of
communicating with me ? Eelieve me of this uneasiness
which is too much for me : pray relieve me of it, even at
the cost of sending a special messenger. I will pay him
his expenses and make him a present into the bargain,
provided only he brings me the news I long for. For my-
self, I am well, if one can be said to be well who lives in
suspense and anxiety, hourly expecting and dreading on
the account of his loved friend every possible accident
which can befall man.

(i8.)
To CuRius Severus.

My office of consul imposed on me the duty of con-
gratulating the Emperor in the name of the State. Hav-
ing done this, according to custom, in the Senate, in a way
suitable to the time and place, I deemed it most agreeable
to the part of a good citizen, to embrace the same subject
at greater length, and with a fuller treatment, in a
published volume : firstly, that our Emperor might be

I02 PLINY'S LETTERS.

gratified by the exhibition of his own virtues set forth
with genuine praises ; secondly, that future princes might
be admonished beforehand — not in schoolmaster fashion,
but at least by an example — of the best road for attaining
to the same renown. For to teach what a prince ought
to be, though to be sure a noble work, is at the same time
an arduous and almost a presumptuous one. Whereas, to
praise an admirable prince, and in this way to exhibit to
posterity a light, so to speak, from a beacon, such as it
may follow — this course has the same advantages as the
other, without any air of assumption.

Again, it was no small pleasure to me that when I
desired to read this book to my friends, and had bidden
them, not by formal cards or handbills, but simply, " if
it were convenient," "if they had plenty of time to spare,"
(and never, in Eome, do people have plenty of spare time,
or is it convenient to them to listen to a reading), yet
they assembled, in the worst possible weather too, for two
consecvitive days, and when my modesty was for bringing
the reading to an end, insisted on my adding a third day.
Am I to suppose that this honour was paid to me, or to
letters ? To letters, I am sure, which once nearly extinct,
are now being warmed into life again. But look at the
subject to which they paid such devoted attention ! Why,
it was one which, in the Senate itself, where we were ob-
liged to put up with it, nevertheless used to weary us even
in the shortest space of time ; yet now persons are found
ready to read out and to listen to this same subject for
three whole days, not because it is treated with more
eloquence than formerly, but because it is treated with
greater freedom and consequently with greater heartiness.
This then must be added to the praises of our Prince, that
a business which was once as hateful as it was untruth-
ful * has become as agreeable as it is genuine.

I must say, however, that I was wonderfully pleased
not only with the attention of my audience, but also with

* He alludes in this, and what has preceded, to the bad days of Domitian.

BOOK TIL 103

their taste. For I noticed that the gravest passages were
those which were most highly approved by them. I am
of course aware that I recited to a small mimber of persons
only, what had been written for the general public. None
the less, for all that, and just as though the opinion of the
public is sure to be the same, I am rejoiced at this severity
of taste in the listener, and just as theatrical audiences
used to teach the musicians to play badly, so now I am
induced to hope that possibly these same audiences may
teach them to play well* For all who write to please
will write what they see docs please. As to myself, how-
ever, I am confident that, in this particular kind of subject,
I am justified in employing a somewhat lively style, inas-
much as those portions which are plain and devoid of
colouring, rather than those which have been penned with
gaiety and a certain exuberance, might seem foreign to,
and out of keeping with it. Yet none the less earnestly
do I pray that there may be a time somewhen (and I hope
it may have come already), when the sugared and flatter-
ing style will be driven even from ground to which it may
seem fairly entitled, in favour of what is serious and
severe. You have my doings for three days : I wished
you to hear of them, and thus to receive the same pleasure
in your absence — both on account of letters generally and
myself personally — as you might have enjoyed had you
been present.

(19.)
To Calvisius Rufus.

I call you as usual into council on my private affairs.
Certain farms are for sale, which adjoin my estate and in-
deed run into it. In these there are many points which
attract me, and some of no less importance which repel
me. What attracts me is, first of all, that it would be a

* This is said figuratively. The reference is still to written compositions
and recitations.

104 PLINY'S LETTERS.

fine thing in itself to join the two properties, next that it
would be a source of advantage no less than of pleasure
to be able to visit both of them at the same time and at
the expense of one journey, to place them under the same
stewards, one may almost say under the same overseers,
and while inhabiting and embellishing one house, merely
to have to keep the other one in repair. As elements in
.this calculation there are the cost of furniture, the charges
of head-servants, gardeners, workmen, and hunting equi-
page as well : since it makes a great difference whether
these objects are collected in one spot or dispersed about
in various places. On the other hand, I fear it may be
imprudent to expose such an amount of property to the
same climate and the same casualties. It seems safer to
test the mutability of fortune by varying the situation of
one's possessions. Besides, there is much that is agreeable
in the chancre of scene and of climate, and in the mere
travelling about from one property to another. Now the
chief point on which I am deliberating is this ; the lands
are fertile, rich and well-watered, they consist of meadows,
vineyards, and woods which furnish timber, and_Jience a
revenue which, though moderate in amount, is sure.* But
this fruitfulness of the soil is deteriorated by the poverty
of those who cultivate it. For the former owner used
often to distrain on the tenant's stock, and while dimi-
nishing for a time the arrears due from his farmers,
he drained them of their resources for the future, and
owing to the failure of these, the arrears grew up again.
Hence these people must be furnished with slaves, who
will cost all the more because they must be honest ones.
For as to slaves in chains, I have none such anywhere,
nor has any one in those parts. It remains to let you
know the price at which it seems the property can be
bought : three millions of sesterces,f not but what it was
at one time five milKons, f but owing to this miserable

* Statum not subject to fluctuations. f About ^^24,000,

This relates to the woods only. J About ^40,000.

BOOK III. io8

state of the farmers and the generally unfavourable times,
the income from the land has gone back and the price
with it. You will ask whether I can easily raise even
this sum of three millions ? True, nearly the whole of my
property is in land, yet I have some money out at interest,
and it will not be difficult for me to borrow. My mother-
in-law will accommodate me, whose cash-box is as much
at my service as my own. Accordingly do not let this in-
fluence you, if the remaining considerations are not in the
way, all of which I would beg you to examine with the
utmost care. For as in all other matters, so in the dis-
posal of property, you are rich in experience and in judg-
ment.

(20.)

To Messius Maximus.

Do you not remember often reading what disputes were
raised by the law on voting-tablets, and what an amount,
either of glory or censure, it brought on him who carried
it ? Now, however, in the Senate, this same practice has
been approved as the best, without any difference of opi-
nion. Every one, on the day of the Comitia, called for
tablets. In truth, with our system of undisguised and
open voting, we had come to exceed the licence of public
meetings. No order in speaking, no silent reserve, not
even the decorum of remaining seated, was attended to.
In all directions there were loud and discordant clamours ;
every one rushed forward with his own candidate ; there
were a number of groups in the middle of the chamber,
and a number of rings formed, and an unseemly confu-
sion. To such an extent had we degenerated from the
usage of our ancestors, in whose times everything was so
carefully ordered and regulated and calmly conducted, as
to preserve the majesty and reverence of the place. There
are old men still living who tell me that the order of the
Comitia was as follows : — The candidate was summoned

io6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

by name, upon which there was a dead silence. He spoke
for himself, set forth his life, gave the names of his refer-
ences and backers, either that of the officer under whom
lie had served in the army, or else of the magistrate whose
quaestor he had been, or of both, if he were able, to which
he added those of some of his supporters. These spoke
on his behalf with propriety, and shortly ; and this was of
more avail than canvassing.* Sometimes a candidate would
take exception to the birth, or the age, or even the char-
acter of an opponent. The senate listened with the gra-
vity of a censor. Hence merit generally prevailed over
interest. Now that these usages have been corrupted by
extravagant favouritism, recourse has been had to secret
voting as a kind of remedy. And a remedy, for the time,
it certainly was, being something quite new and unex-
pected. But I fear that as time goes on the remedy itself
will give birth to evils. There is, indeed, a danger that a
contempt for honesty may steal into this silent voting :
for how few there are who have the same rescard for their
honour in private as they have publicly. Many stand in
awe of public opinion, few of their own consciences. How-
ever, it is too soon to talk of what lies in the future ; for
the present, by favour of the ballot, we shall have the
magistrates whose appointment was most desirable. For,
just as in proceedings where " Eeciperators " -f- are nomi-
nated, so we, at these Comitia, being as it were suddenly
pounced upon, turned out honest judges.

I have written this to you, first, in order to write of
something new ; next that I may occasionally speak of
public affairs : the occasions for which, as they are rarer
for us than for our ancestors, so they are the less to be

* Preces. Supplications on his be- lected from persons in court, and not

half, of which (as Gierig remarks) from the regular list. Hence, as there

Pliny himself has furnished us a sped- was no opportunity of tampering with

men in Bk. ii. Ep. 9. them, they were more likely to give

•\ Reciperatores. Judges called on an honest decision. This is the point

to decide some matter of fact, and of Pliny's comparison,
who, it seems, were liable to be se-

BOOK III. 107

neglected. And, by Hercules, when shall we cease hear-
ing those commonplace " How d'ye do's ? " and " I hope
you are wells ? " I would have our letters be of those
which contain something out of the common and the
paltry, and what is confined to private interests. All
things, to be sure, are at the disposal of one who, for the
common advantage, has taken on himself single-handed
the cares and labours of all ; yet by a healthful dispensa-
tion of them there flow down even to us certain rills, so
to speak, from that bounteous source, such as we cannot
only drink in ourselves, but also in a manner supply to
our absent friends through the medium of our letters.

(21.)

To COENELIUS PeISCUS.

I hear that Valerius Martialis * is dead, and am sorry
for it. He was a man of ingenuity, acuteness, and wit,
one in whose writings there was a great deal of salt and
gall, with no less kindliness. I made him a present to-
wards his journey when he left the city. It was a gift in
honour of our friendship, and also in honour of a short
poem which he wrote about me. It was the custom of old
to confer honorary distinctions or pecuniary rewards on
those who had written the praises either of individuals or
of cities ; but in our days, together with other admirable
and excellent practices, this one has been among the first
to grow obsolete. Since we have left off doing things
worthy of being praised, we consider praise itself imper-
tinent. You will ask for the verses for which I showed
my gratitude. I would refer you to the volume itself if I
did not happen to recollect some of them. If these should
please you, you can look for the rest in the book. He
addresses the muse, he bids her seek my house on the
Esquiline, and approach it respectfully.

* Martial, the poet.

io8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

Only take care, my tipsy muse,
That a fit and proper time you choose
To knock at my Pliny's eloquent gates.
To the stern Minerva he devotes
All his days, and elaborates
What may win the Hundred Judges' votes.
Speeches which this and the coming age
May venture to match with TuUy's page.
When may you safely go ? When the light
Of the lamps is burning late, and the night
GrowsVild with the wine-cup, and the rose
Is queen of the feast, and the perfume flows
From dripping locks. In that hour of thine
Stern Catos may read this book of mine.*

Does not one who wrote thus of me, and whom I then
dismissed on such friendly terms, deserve that now, too,
his death should be lamented by me as that of a dear
friend ? For he bestowed on me all that he could, and
would have bestowed more, if he had had it in his power
to do so. And yet what more can be bestowed on a man
than glory and renown and immortality ? " But the things
he wrote will not be immortal." Perhaps not, yet he wrote
them as if they were destined to be so.

* Martial, x. 19. I have taken the deringfrom Messrs. Church andBrod-
liberty of borrowing the above ren- ribb's " Pliny for Euglish Readers."

■ 1"

( I09 )

BOOK IV.

To Fabatus, his Wife's Grandfathee.

You are desirous, after so long an interval, of beholding
your grand-daughter and me with her. This desire of
yours is, by Hercules, mutually gratifying to both of us.
For, on our side, we are possessed by an incredible yearn-
ing for you, which we shall no longer put off : nay more,
we are actually packing up our traps, with the intention
of hurrying as fast as the plan of our journey will permit.
"We shall make one stoppage, though only a short one.
We shall have to turn out of the way to my Tuscan pro-
perty, not for the purpose of inspecting the estate and my
belongings there (for that can be postponed), but in order
to discharge an indispensable duty. There is a town near
the estate, called Tifernum Tiberinum, which, while I was
still little more than a boy, adopted me for its patron, with
a partiality proportioned to its want of judgment. It cele-
brates my visits to it, is pained at my departure, and
rejoices in the honours paid me. In this place, with the
view of showing my gratitude — for it is a great discredit
to be outdone in affection — I have built a temple at my
own expense, and, as it is now completed, it would be an
act of impiety to defer consecrating it any longer. Hence
we shall be there on the day of consecration, which I have
decided to celebrate by a banquet. We shall perhaps stay
there the following day as well ; but we shall make all
the more haste on the journey itself. May it only be our
good fortune to find you and your daughter in health, for
we shall be sure to find you in spirits if we reach you
safely.

no PLINY'S LETTERS.

To Attius Clemens.

Eegulus has lost his son; it was the only misfortune
that he did not deserve, and I doubt whether he thinks
it a misfortune.* He was a boy of quick parts, but un-
certain character, yet one who might have pursued a right
course provided he did not resemble his father. Eegulus
had set the lad free from parental control, in order that he
might be constituted heir to his mother, and having thus
" sold "t him (so it was styled in common talk derived from
the character of the man) proceeded to toady him under
a disgusting and unparental pretence of indulging him.
The thing seems incredible, but then remember Eegulus !
However, he mourns his son's loss like a madman. The
boy had a number of ponies for harness and saddle ; he
had dogs large and small, nightingales, parrots, and black-
birds, all of which Eegulus slaughtered at the funeral pile.
This was not grief, but the ostentation of grief. He is
visited by a wonderful number of people, by all of whom
he is abominated and detested ; yet just as though they
esteemed and had a regard for him, they hurry to attend
on him, and, to state shortly my opinion, in gaining the
good graces of Eegulus, they make themselves like him.
He keeps to his gardens on the other side of the Tiber,
where he has covered a large space of ground with vast
colonnades, as also the bank of the river with statues of
himself. So lavish is he, with all his consummate avarice,
and so vainglorious in the midst of his consummate infamy.
Thus, he is a nuisance j to the city at this most unhealthy
season, and his being a nuisance is a source of consolation

* The meaning might also be, " He which cannot be rendered. In ap-
does not deserve the misfwtune, be- pearanceRegulus had "emancipated"
cause in point of fact he does not his son, but the world spoke of the
deem it to be one." Doring thinks act as a " sale" for a consideration,
this too harsh for Pliny. But this J By obliging his flatterers to re-
letter is harsh enough. main at Eome in order to pay court

+ There is a play on the words to him.
emancipare and mancipare in the text

BOOK IV. Ill

to him. He gives out that he wishes to marry : this too,
like everything else, in his perverse way. You will soon
hear of the wedding of this mourner, of this old man — a
wedding in one point of view too early, in another too late.
You ask whence I aus^ur this. Not because he affirms
it himself, for there does not exist a greater liar; but
because it is certain that Eegulus will do whatever he
ought not to do.

(3-)
To Arrius Antoninus.

That you have been twice Consul, and one of antique
mould ; that you have been Pro-consul of Asia, and such
a one as either before you or after you has appeared but
once or twice (your modesty does not allow me to say
never) ; that by reason of your virtue and your authority,
your age too, you are a Chief of the State — all this claims
reverence and admiration ; yet it is in your relaxations that
/ still more admire you. For, to season such majesty with
a like degree of geniality, and to unite to the loftiest de-
portment a disposition no less affable, this is as difficult as
it is noble. And this you achieve not only by a certain
incredible charm in your conversation, but also more par-
ticularly by your writings. For, as you s^Deak, the famed
honey of old Homer seems to flow forth, and what you
write the bees seem to fill with the nectar of their flowers.*
Such certainly was the impression made on myself when
reading lately your Greek epigrams and iambics. What
polish of diction there is in them, what attractiveness of
form, how sweet, how full of love, how melodious, how
appropriate they are ! I thouglit I had got hold of Calli-
machus, or Herodes, or something still better, if there be
such. Yet neither of these authors carried to perfection,
or even attempted, both kinds of composition.! That a

* Complerejloribusetnectare. Keil f i.e., Epigrams and Iambics,

reads, Complere Jloribus et innectere. Pliny seems to have been mistaken

But bees stringing togetlier flowers about Callimacbus.
seems a violent metaphor.

1 1 2 PLINY'S LETTERS.

Eoman citizen should write such Greek ! As true as
Heaven, I should not call Athens herself so Attic. Why-
say more ? I envy the Greeks in that you have preferred
to write in their tonoiue. Nor is there much need to con-
jecture what you would be able to produce in your native
language, if you can turn out such admirable works in a
foreign and transplanted one.

(4.)
To Sosius Senecio.

I have a very strong regard for Varisidius Nepos, an
industrious, learned, and, what with me has the greatest
possible weight, an honest man. At the same time he is
very closely connected with C. Calvisius, my old crony
and your friend, being indeed his sister's son. I beg that
you will add to his lustre, both in his own and his maternal
uncle's eyes, by conferring on him a tribuneship for six
months. You will oblige me, you will oblige our friend
Calvisius, you will oblige Nepos himself, who will prove
a debtor no less to your mind than you esteem us to be.
You have conferred many favours on many people, yet I
venture to contend that there is none which you will have
invested to greater advantage, and only one here and there
so well.

(50
To Spaesus.

They relate that ^^schines, at the request of the Eho-
dians, recited an oration of his own, and afterwards one by
Demosthenes, each of them amid loud applause. I do not
wonder that this fortune should have attended the pro-
ductions of such men, seeing that a very learned audience
lately listened to an oration of my own with so much zeal
and approval, and application even, for two whole days,
although there was no comparison between one author
and another, no contest, so to speak, to kindle their atten-

BOOK IV. 113

tion. For the PJiodians were incited not only by the
actual merits of the orations, but also by the stimulus of
comparison, while my oration was approved without the
advantage of rivalry. Whether this approval was deserved
or not you will learn when you have read the speech itself,
the extent of which does not permit me to preface it by
a more protracted letter. For lure, certainly, where brevity
is possible, I ought to be brief, so that the speech itself
may find the more excuse for its length, though it is not
lengthened beyond the importance of its theme,

(6.)

To Julius Naso.

My Tuscan produce has been swept off by the hail. In
the country over the Po we are informed of great abund-
ance, but proportionate low prices. My Laurentine pro-
perty is the only one that brings me in anything. To be
sure, I own nothing there beyond a house and garden and
the immediate sands, yet it is the only one that brings me
in anything. For there I write a great deal, and improve,
not the land (which I have not got), but myself by means
of study ; and just as in other places I can show you a
full barn, so here I can actually show you a full escritoire.*
Do you, too, then, if you are anxious for an estate with a
safe income and fertile soil, provide yourself with some-
thing on this coast.

"o

(7.)

To Catius Lepidus.

I often tell you that there is energy f in Eegulus. It is
wonderful how he accomplishes whatever he has applied
himself to. He was pleased to mourn for his son. Well,
he mourns for him as no other man could. He was pleased

* Scrinium. A kind of desk or box t Vim. "go," would exactly give
for keeping books and manuscripts. tlie sense here.

H

1 14 PLINY'S LETTERS.

to have as many statues and likenesses made of liim as
possible. Well, lie sets to work in all the studios, and
turns out the boy in colours, ditto in wax, ditto in
brass, ditto in silver, ditto in gold, in ivory, in marble.
Then, for his own account, he lately invited a huge
audience, and read out to them a book all about his life
— the life of a boy ! However, he read it out ; and this
same book, after it had been transcribed into a thousand
copies, he distributed throughout the whole of Italy and
the provinces, with public instructions in writing, to the
effect that the Decurions* should choose one out of their
own number, with the best voice, to read it to the people.
Tliis was done accordingly. If he had only directed to
better purposes this energy of his (or by whatever other
name we are to call the determination to obtain all one's
ends), how much good he might have effected ! Though,
to be sure, there is less energy in good than in bad men,
and just as " resolution is engendered by ignorance and
hesitation by reflection," f so honest natures are enfeebled
by their modesty, while perverse ones are encouraged by
their effrontery. Eegulus is an example of this. He has
weak lungs, a confused utterance, a faltering delivery, the
slowest faculty of imagination, no memory at all ; nothing,
in short, beyond his wild capacity, and yet through his
impudence and this very frantic power of his he has got
to the point of being esteemed an orator. Hence Heren-
nius Senecio applied to him admirably the converse of
Gate's well-known saying about the orator. " An orator
is a lad man, wTiskilled in the art of speaking." And, by
Hercules, Cato himself has not so well described the true
orator as Senecio has described Eegulus.

Have you the means of making an equivalent return
for such a letter as this ? Yes, you have, if you will write
word whether any of my friends in your town, whether

* I. 8, note.

+ Tluicyd. i. 40. " The native hue P^le cast of thought " of Shakespeare
of resolution is sicklied o'er with the is somewhat to the same effect.

BOOK IV. 115

you yourself, perhaps, have read out, like a cheap-jack in
the forum, this doleful production of Eegulus ; " raising
your voice," to wit, as Demosthenes has it, " and full of
glee, and straining your windpipe." Indeed, it is so silly
that it is calculated to excite laughter more than lamenta-
tion. You would imagine it was written not about a boy,
but hy a boy.

(8.) .
To Matukus Arrianus.

You congratulate me on my having been invested with
the Augurship. You are warranted in your congratula-
tions, first of all, because it is a great thing to win the
deliberate approval of a most exemplary prince even where
the matter is a small one ; next, because the priestly office
is not only by nature an ancient one connected with re-
ligion, but is moreover rendered completely sacred and
exceptional in this respect that it cannot be taken from
the holder during his lifetime. For other offices, though
almost on a par with this in point of dignity, as they are
conferred, so in like manner they can be taken away. In
regard to this one, the power of Fortune does not go be-
yond the matter of granting it. Moreover, to me it seems
an additional cause of conOTatulation that I have succeeded
Julius Frontinus, a man of great mark, who on the day of
nomination for these several past years in succession used
to propose me for the priesthood, as though adopting me
into his place, an act which now the event has approved
in such a way that it cannot seem to have been fortuitous.
You, however, as you write, are chiefly delighted at my
being augur because M. TuUius* was one. You are re-
joiced, that is, at my stepping into the honours of one
whom I long to emulate in my intellectual pursuits. But
oh that, as like him I have obtained the priestly office and
the consulship, and indeed at a much earlier time of life

* Cicero.

1 1 6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

than his, so also, in old age at any rate, I might attain to
some share of his mental powers ! Yet, to be sure, what is
in the power of man falls to my lot as well as to that of
many others. But in proportion as it is difficult to acquire,
so is it too much even to hope for gifts which lie in the
hands of the gods alone.

(9.)
To Cornelius Uesus.

Julius Bassus has been upon his defence during the last
few days, a man who has seen much trouble, and one cele-
brated for his misfortunes. He was accused under Vespa-
sian by two persons in a private station, then sent before
the Senate, where he remained long in suspense, at last
acquitted and discharged. He stood in fear of Titus, as
being a friend of Domitian's, and by Domitian himself he
was banished. Eecalled by Xerva, he had the province of
Bithynia allotted to him, and returned thence under im-
peachment, being as eagerly prosecuted as he was faith-
fully defended. He encountered various judgments in the
Senate, most of them, however, taking a lenient view.
Pomponius Eufus appeared for the prosecution, a ready
and powerful speaker. He was followed by Theophanes,
one of the ^Drovincial agents, the firebrand and originator
of the accusation. I replied. For Bassus had charged
me to establish the groundwork of his entire defence ; to
speak of his distinctions, which, from the splendour of his
family and the actual perils he had undergone, were
great; of the conspiracy of the informers against him,
which they were working for their own profit; of the
causes of his having given offence to the most factious
fellows, such as this very Theophanes. He had wished
me at the same time to advance and meet the charcre which
pressed him most closely. Eor, as to other charges, how-
ever serious they might sound, he deserved not merely ac-
quittal, but even praise. What weighed on him was this —
that, being a simple and unsuspecting man, he had accepted

BOOK IV, 117

certain gifts from the provincials in the character of their
friend, for he had once been Quaestor in the same province.
These, his accusers termed plunder and rapine : lie- termed
them presents. But the law forbids even presents being
accepted. Hereupon, what was I to do, what course of
defence was I to enter upon ? Should I traverse the fact ?
I was apprehensive that it would appear plainly to be
" plunder " from my being afraid to admit it. Moreover,
to deny a matter that was clear would be to act so as to
augment the gravity of the accusation, instead of impairing
it, particularly where the defendant himself had left no
option to his counsel. For he had told a number of people,
and even the Emperor, that he had accepted these " little
presents " alone (and sent many of the same kind) merely
on the occasion of his birthday, or during the Saturnalia.
Should I implore pardon for him then ? It would be cutting
the defendant's throat to concede that he had erred in such
a way that he could only be saved by a pardon. Should I
defend the act as a legitimate one ? I should have done
him no good, and should only have exhibited my own
effrontery. In this strait I determined to preserve a land of
middle course, and I seem to have succeeded. My speech,
as in the case of battles, was stopped by nightfall. I had
spoken for three hours and a half : one hour and a half
remained to me. For since, in accordance with law, the
prosecutor had been granted six hours, and the defendant
nine, the latter had so divided the time between me and
the counsel who was to follow me, that I could employ five
hours and he the remainder. But the success of my speech
prompted me to say no more and to make an end of it.
For it is rash not to be satisfied with what has gone off
well. Besides, I feared that my bodily strength might
fail me for a renewed effort, it being more difficult to re-
sume than to continue without a break. There was danger,
too, that the rest of my speech might suffer a chill as a
thing that had been put by, and might prove tedious as a
thing brought out afresh. For, just as torches preserve

Il8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

their fire by being constantly shaken, and renew it with
great difficulty when it has been once let down, so the
warmth of the speaker and the attention of the hearer are
kept up by continuity, and are weakened by intermission
and, if I may so speak, relaxation.

However, Bassus, with many prayers and almost tears,
begged me to complete my time ; so I complied, preferring
his interests to my own. Success attended me: the
minds of the Senate were so attentive and so fresh that
they seemed to be whetted rather than satisfied by my
previous speech. Lucceius Albinus followed me, so appo-
sitely that our speeches might be thought to unite the
variety of two, with the consistency of a single oration,
Herennius made a spirited and weighty reply, then came
Theophanes again. For here too, as usual, he behaved
with consummate impudence, in that, after two speakers,
men of consular rank as well as of eloquence, he claimed
further time for himself, and that, too, pretty freely. He
spoke till nightfall and even after nightfall, lights having
been brought in. The next day, Homullus and Fronto
spoke admirably for Bassus, and the fourth day was
occupied by the examination of proofs, Bsebius Macer,
Consul-Elect, gave it as his opinion that Bassus had sub-
jected himself to the law against bribery and extortion;
Csepio Hispo, that he should retain his Senatorial rank,
and have judges assigned him.* Both of them were in
the right. How can that be, you ask, when they gave
such opposite opinions ? Why, because Macer, looking
to the law, was quite consistent in condemning one who
had accepted presents contrary to law ; and Csepio, deem-
ing that the Senate has the power, as certainly it has, to
mitigate the force of laws as well as to construe them
strictly, was not without reason in extending a pardon to
acts which, though forbidden, are not unfrequently prac-
tised. The opinion of Cijepio prevailed : nay more, when
he rose to state it, he was cheered as Senators usually are

* See ii. ii, note.

BOOK IV. 119

on resuming their seats : from this, you may judge what
approval greeted what he dul say, when such favour was
shown to what it was supposed that he would say.

However, not only in the Senate but also in the city,
there are two divisions of opinion. For, those who approve
the proposal of Csepio find fault with that of Macer as
being too harsh and severe : while those who go with
Macer, style the former a lax and indeed an inconsistent
proposal : for they say that it is not consistent to retain a
man in the Senate to whom judges have been assigned.
There was also a third proposition : Valerius Paulinus,
agreeing with Ctepio, was for adding to the motion, that
Theophanes be proceeded against at the termination
of his agency. For he was charged with having done
many acts in the course of the prosecution which were
infringements of the very law in virtue of which he had
accused Bassus. But this motion, greatly as it approved
itself to a large majority of the Senate, was not acted on
by the Consuls. However, Paulinus obtained credit for
his honesty and courage. On the adjournment of the
Senate, Bassus was welcomed by a large concourse, and
with great shouting and joy. He had been made popular
by this revival of the old tradition of his troubles, by
his name known through the perils with which it was
connected, by his advanced age with its dejection and
squalor * united to a stately figure. Take this interim
letter as an avant-courier, and look out for my oration in
full, and charged with matter : you will, however, have to
look out for it for a good long time : for it will have to be
retouched, considering the importance of the subject, with
no light or superficial hand.

(10.)
To Statius Sabinus.

You write me word that Sabina, who has left us her
heirs, though she has nowhere directed that Modestus her

* The squalid appearance affected by accused persons.

I20 PLINY'S LETTERS.

slave should be freed, nevertheless has added a legacy in
his favour in these terms, " To Modestus, whom I directed
to be freed." You ask for my view. I have consulted legal
authorities ; all are of the same opinion, that he cannot
claim his liberty, because it has not been granted him,
nor again his legacy, because it was given to a slave.
But to me this seems a clear case of slip : I am therefore
of opinion that we should do, just as if Sabina had
directed it, that which certainly she herself thought she
had directed. I am confident that you will accede to my
judgment, since you are in the habit of observing most
religiously the wishes of the departed, which once under-
stood will have the force of law for honest heirs. For,
with us, honour weighs no less than necessity with others.
Let the man remain free then, with our consent ; let him
enjoy his legacy as though every precaution had been
carefully taken. Indeed, Sabina lias taken these precau-
tions, since she has made a prudent choice of heirs.

(II.)

To Cornelius Minicianus.

Have you heard that Valerius Licinianus is lecturing in
Sicily ? I fancy you have not yet heard it, for the news
is but recent. This personage of Preetorian rank was
lately esteemed among the most eloquent members of the
bar ; he has now fallen so low as to have become an exile
instead of a senator, a teacher of rhetoric instead of an
orator. Hence, he himself, in a prefatory address, ex-
claimed in sorrowful and solemn tones, " What sport dost
thou make for thyself, oh Fortune ! For thou makest
Professors out of Senators, and Senators out of Professors !"
a sentiment in which there is so much bile and bitterness,
that he seems to me to have turned Professor for the ex-
press purpose of uttering it. This same man, when he
had made his entrance, clad in a Greek mantle (for those

BOOK IV. 21

who are interdicted from fire and water * are deprived of
the right to wear the toga), after he had settled himself
and given an eye to his dress, remarked, " I am going to
declaim in Latin V

All very sad and pitiful, you will say, but the man
deserved it for having polluted this very profession of
eloquence by the guilt of incest. To be sure, he confessed
to the incest, but it is uncertain whether he did this
because it was the fact, or because he feared worse con-
sequences if he denied it. Domitian was at that time
raging and storming, abandoned to his own resources,f in
the midst of the vast odium he had incurred. For wdien
he had become bent on burying alive Cornelia, the chief
of the Vestal virgins, under the notion that his reign
would be illustrated by examples of this kind ; in virtue
of his right as Pontifex Maximus, or rather, with the
brutality of a tyrant and the licence of a despot, he sum-
moned his colleagues, not to the Pontifical palace, but to
his Alban villa. Then, with a wickedness not falUng
short of that which he had the air of punishing, he pro-
nounced her guilty of incest, in her absence and without
hearing her ; he, the very man who had not only inces-
tuously polluted his brother's daughter, but had murdered
her into the bargain, for she died of abortion in her widow-
hood. The Pontifices were despatched forthwith to see to
Cornelia's being buried and put an end to. As for her,
raising her hands, now to Vesta, now to the rest of the
gods, she uttered, among many cries, this one most often,
" Does Ccesar deem me, incestuous, who performed the
sacred rites when he conquered, when he triumphed ? "
Whether she said this with the intention to flatter or else
to mock him, whether from confidence in her own virtue
or from contempt for the Emperor, is a matter of doubt ;

* J. c, are under sentence of banish- relate. The subject proper (that of

ment. Licinianus) is resumed at the begin-

t Unable to find any justification ning of the next paragraph,
for the acts which Pliny proceeds to

122 PLINY'S LETTERS.

however, she kept on saying it till she was led to execution,
innocent or not I cannot say, but certainly with the ap-
pearance of innocence. Moreover, as she was being
escorted down to that terrible subterranean dung;eon, her
dress catching in the course of her descent, she turned
round and disengaged it, and on the executioner offerincr
her his hand, she shuddered and started back, rejecting
this foul pollution of her person, as though evidently
chaste and pure, with a last expression of sanctity, and,
exhibiting in all points her modest demeanour,

" Took every care to fall with decency." *

Moreover, Celer, a Eoman knight, who was charged as the
accomplice of Cornelia, had persisted in crying out, while
being beaten with rods in the Comitium, " What have I
done ? I have done nothing ! "

Domitian, then, was raging under a sense of the ill
repute of his cruelty and injustice. So he pounced on
Licinianus for concealing a freedwoman of Cornelia at his
country place. The latter was forewarned by those who
had charge of him to take refuge in a confession, as in a
means of pardon, if he had not a mind for the Comitia and
the rods. This he did. Herennius Senecio spoke for him,
in his absence, somewhat after the fashion of the well-
known " Patroclus is dead." -f For he said, " Instead of
pleading a cause, I have only a message to deliver.
Licinianus abandons his defence." This was very agree-
able to Domitian, so much so that he could not help
showing his joy, and saying, " Licinianus clears us." He
went so far as to add, " that the culprit's shame should not
be pressed too hard," and permitted him, in fact, to carry
off anything he could from his effects, before his property
was confiscated, granting him an easy place of exile as a
kind of premium. Thence, however, he was subsequently

* A line from the ' Hecuba ' of concisely as Antilochus did when an-
Euripides. nouncing to Achilles the death of

f I.e., spoke for him as briefly and Patroclus.

BOOK IV. 123

transferred, "by the clemency of the late Emperor Nerva,
to Sicily, where he now gives lectures and revenges him-
self on fortune by his prefatory addresses.

You see the readiness with which I obey you, in that I
write to you not only of town affairs, but foreign ones as
well, and with such care as to trace them to their source.
And to be sure I thought that, as you were absent at the
time, you had heard nothing further of Licinianus than
that he had been banished for incest. Eor Fame reports
to us the substance of things, not their details. I deserve
that you, in turn, should write me in full about what is
passing in your town and neighbourhood (where events
worthy of notice not unfrequently occur) ; in short, relate
whatever you please, provided only your letter be as long
as mine. I shall count not only the sheets, but the lines
and syllables into the bargain.

(12.)
To Matukus Akrianus.

You love Egnatius Marcellinus, and indeed often com-
mend him to me. You will love him and commend him
still more, when you are made acquainted with a recent
action of his. When he had gone out to his province as
Quaestor, and had lost there a clerk who had been allotted
him, before the latter had become entitled to his salary,
he felt, and so decided, that the amount which he had
received for the purpose of paying the clerk, ought not
to remain in his hands. Consequently, on his return, he
consulted Csesar, and afterwards, by Caesar's advice, the
Senate, as to what they would have done with the salary.
It was a small question; still it xvas a question. The
clerk's heirs claimed the amount for themselves, and the
heads of the Treasury claimed it for the public. The case
was tried. Counsel spoke for the heirs and, after that,
for the public : both of them excellently well. Csecilius
Strabo moved that the money should be paid into the

124 PLINY'S LETTERS.

Treasury ; Bsebius Macer that it should be handed to the
heirs. Strabo prevailed. Do you give all credit to Mar-
cellinus, as I did on the spot. For, though it be abundantly
sufficient for him to be approved both by the Prince and
the Senate, yet he will rejoice in your testimony. All
those indeed who are led by glory and fame are marvel-
lously pleased with approval and praise, even when these
proceed from their inferiors : whereas, in your case, Mar-
cellinus holds you in such respect that he attributes the
greatest weight to your judgment. Add to this that if he
shall learn of this action of his penetrating as far as you,
he will necessarily be delighted with the reach and the
progress and the wide sweep of his repute. Since, I know
not how it is, but men are still more pleased by an ex-
tended than by a great reputation.

(13-)
To Cornelius Tacitus.

I am glad you have arrived in town safely : and if
ever before now your arrival has been looked for by me,
it has been particularly so on the present occasion. I
myself shall remain yet a few days at my Tusculan place,
in order to complete a literary trifle now on hand. For I
fear that if my ardour were relaxed just as the work
approaches completion, it would with difficulty be re-
sumed. Meanwhile, to satisfy my impatience, what I
shall ask of you when we meet, I now request in this
letter which is, so to speak, my avant-courier. But first
let me tell you the reasons for my request.

In the course of a recent visit to my native parts, a
youth, the son of one of my townsmen, came to pay Jbis
respects to me. To whom — " Are you studying ? " said I.
"Certainly," he answered. "Wliere?" "At Milan." "Why
not here ? " Said his father (for he was with the boy, and
indeed had himself brought him), " Because we have no
teachers here." " Why have you none ? Surely, it would

BOOK IV. 125

be greatly to the interest of you who are fathers," — and very
opportunely there were several fathers within hearing —
" that your children should be instructed here rather than
anywhere else. Where indeed could they spend their
time more pleasantly than in their own neighbourhood, or
be subject to more virtuous supervision than under the
eyes of their parents, or be at smaller cost than at home ?
How easy it would be then to unite in subscribing for the
purpose of engaging teachers, and to add what is now
spent on lodgings, on travelling-expenses, on all those
things which have to be purchased away from home
(and everything has to be purchased away from home) to
the salaries devoted to them. Nay, further, I who have
as yet no children, am prepared on behalf of our common-
wealth, as though she were a daughter or a parent, to
contribute a third part of whatever you shall determine
to subscribe. I would even promise the whole amount,
were it not for the fear that such a gift might one day be
perverted by means of jobbery, as I see happens in many
places where teachers are engaged at the public expense.
This abuse can only be met by one remedy, and that is,
that the right of making these engagements should be left
to the parents alone, and that the conscientious care of
deciding rightly should be imposed on them by the
necessity of subscribing. For those who would perhaps
be careless of other people's property, will certainly be
careful of their own, and will see to it that none but a
deserving person shall receive my money, if he is to receive
theirs as well. Accordingly, I would have you come to an
agreement, and band yourselves together, and derive addi-
tional spirit from me, who am desirous that the sum which
I shall have to contribute may be as large as possible.
You can confer nothing more desirable on your children,
or more grateful on your own neighbourhood. Let those
who are born here be educated here, and from their very
infancy let them grow accustomed to love and to inhabit
their native soil. And I pray that you may introduce

126 PLINY'S LETTERS.

teachers of such repute that this will be a source to which
neighbouring towns will resort for learning, and that, just
as now your children flock to other places, so strangers
may soon flock to this place."

I have thought it best to repeat all this in detail, and
from its source, so to speak, in order that you might the
better understand how agreeable it would be to me if you
would undertake my commission. ISTow I commission, and
in view of the importance of the matter, entreat you that
out of the great number of learned persons who frequent
you, from an admiration of your genius, you would look
about for some teachers such as we might invite, yet
subject to this condition, that I must not be held to pledge
myself to any one of them. For I reserve complete
freedom for the parents ; tlicy must judge, tliey must
choose: trouble and expense is all / claim for myself.
Accordingly, if any one be found who has confidence in
his own capacity, let him go there with this understanding,
that he takes with him from these parts no assurance, save
that which he derives from himself.

(I4-)
To Paternus.

You perhaps, as your way is, are calling for, and indeed
expecting an oration from me. But I — as though drawing
from some foreign and luxurious wares — produce for you
my poetical recreations. You will receive with this letter
some hendecasyllables of mine, with which I amuse my
leisure hours, when out driving, or in the bath, or at
dinner-time. In these I jest, disport myself, make love,
grieve, complain, am angry, indulge in descriptions, at
times in a homely, at others in a more elevated strain,
and, by the very variety of treatment, aim at this result, that
while different parts may please different people, there
may be some parts which will possibly please everybody.
If, however, some of the number shall appear to you a

BOOK IV. 127

trifle too saucy, it will become one of your learning to re-
flect that those men of great position and high dignity who
have written this kind of thing, have not abstained — to
say nothing of frolicsome themes — from the most naked
expressions. These last I have avoided, not from my
being more austere (how indeed could that be ?) but from
my being more timid than they. Besides, I know that the
truest law as to these trifles is that which has been ex-
pressed by Catullus.

" Though pious poets should themselves be chaste,
It does not follow that their strains should be,
Which then alone of salt will have a taste,
If they be wanton and a trifle free."

As for me, what an account I make of your judgment,
you may estimate e'en from this, that I have preferred
that the whole collection should be pondered by you,
rather than that selected pieces should meet with your
approval. And to be sure the happiest pieces would cease
to seem such, as soon as they were matched by others of
the same sort. Besides, a sensible and critical reader
ought not to compare different kinds of productions with
each other, but to estimate each production singly, and
not to consider as inferior to another piece a piece which
is perfect in its own kind. But why add more ? For
either to excuse or to commend trifles by a long preface
would itself be the height of trifling. There is just one
thing which it seems to me ought to be said beforehand,
namely, that I think of calling these nugse of mine
" Hendecasyllables," a title which refers merely to the
metre. Accordingly, you may call them, if you like,
epigrams or idylls or eclogues, or (as many have it) short
poems, or by any other name which you prefer ; / guaran-
tee Hendecasyllables only. I ask of your candour that
whatever you will say to others of my small book that
you will say to me. Nor is what I ask difQcult. For if
this little work of mine were either my best or my only

128 PLINY'S LETTERS.

one, perhaps it might seem harsh to say " Seek some other
occupation ; " but in all gentleness and courtesy it might
be said, " You liam other occupations."

(ISO

To FUNDANUS.

If there is anything at all in which I show my judgment,
it is certainly in my singular affection for Asinius Eufus.
He is an excellent man, and one who has a great regard
for all good people. (For why should I not count myself,
too, among the good?) This same Ptufus has attached
himself to Cornelius Tacitus — and you know what lu is —
on the closest terms of intimacy. Accordingly, if you
hold us both in esteem, needs must be that you have the
same opinion of Eufus ; since, for the cementing of friend-
ships, the strongest of all ties is to be found in a resemblance
of characters. He has several children. For in this re-
spect, too, he has discharged the office of an admirable
citizen, in that he has desired to profit largely by the fruit-
fulness of his wife, in an age when the prizes open to a
childless condition make even an only son an encumbrance
to many.*. Despising such considerations, he has entitled
himself to the additional name of grandfather, for he is a
grandfather ; and through Saturius Firmus too, whom you
will cherish as I do, when you have made as close ac-
quaintance with him as I have. All which goes to this,
that you may learn how important, how numerous a family
you will lay under an obligation by one friendly act ; to
ask for which I am led first of all by my wishes, and next
by a certain happy omen. For I wish you and also prog-
nosticate for you the Consulship next year ; this your own
merits and the Prince's opinion of you lead me to augur.
It would fit in with this, that Asinius Bassus, the eldest of
Eufus's children, should be Quaestor in the same year, a

* An allusion to the court paid to childless people, with the view of
getting a legacy.

BOOK IV. 129

young man (I don't know whetlier I ought to say what
the father wishes me both to think and to say, but the
youth's modesty forbids) superior even to his father. It
woukl be difficult for you to believe, on my report of one
who is absent — though, to be sure, you do believe me in
everything — that he can possess so much industry, probity,
learning, intelligence, zeal, and finally memory, as you will
find that he does when you have tried him. I only wish
our age were so fruitful in good qualities that you would
be bound to prefer some others to Bassus ; in that case I
should be the first to exhort and admonish you to look
around you and indeed debate a long time as to the best ob-
ject of your choice. As it is, however — yet I do not wish to
speak in any way presumptuously of my friend — at any-
rate this only will I say, that the young man is worthy to
be adopted by you as a son, after the fashion of our ances-
tors.* For sages, such as you, ought to accept from the
State such children, so to speak, as we pray to receive
from Nature. It will be a credit to you in your consul-
ship to have a Quaestor whose father is of Prietorian,
whose relatives are of Consular rank, and who, according
to their own judgment, though still but a youth, has never-
theless already reflected a mutual lustre on them. Ac-
cordingly favour my prayers, follow my advice, and above
all, if I seem importunate, forgive me : first, because in a
State in which everything is set about by those who, so to
speak, take time by the forelock, efforts delayed till the
regular time are apt to be too late instead of being in season;
next, because, in regard to matters which one is anxious
to obtain, the very anticipation of them is a pleasure.
Let Bassus begin to revere you as his Consul; do you cherish
him as your Quaestor. Finally, let us, who are deeply at-
tached to both of you, enjoy in full a double delight. For
since we have such a regard both for you and for Bassus that
we should assist, in his pursuit of the honour, with all our
resources, exertions, and influence, either Bassus, if nomi-

* Alluding to the close connection between Consul and Quaestor.

I

130 PLINY'S LETTERS.

nated Quaestor by amj consul, or any Quaestor nominated
by you,* so it would be particularly agreeable to us if the
circumstances of our friendship and your consulship should
be the means of combining our efforts on this one young
man ; if, in short, you of all others should help my prayers
■with your assistance, whose choice the Senate will most
willingly concur in, and to whose testimony it will attach
the greatest weight,

(i6.)
To Valerius Paulinus.

Eejoice on my account, rejoice on your own, nay more,
rejoice on the public account. Honour still continues to
be paid to intellectual pursuits.! On a recent occasion,
when I was about to speak before the Centumviri, there
was no way for me to get into the court except by the
bench and right through the Judges : all the other parts
were so closely packed. Add to this that a well-dressed
youth, whose tunic had been torn, as often happens in a
crowd, persisted in standing, wrapped up in his toga only,
and that for seven hours ; for I spoke as long as that,
not without great exertion and still greater effect. Let us
follow our intellectual pursuits, then, and not allege other
folks' slothfulness as an excuse for our own. There are
those who will listen, there are those who will read, if
only we take pains to produce what is worthy of people's
ears or of the paper on which it is written.

(17-)
To AsiNius Gallus.

You not only admonish, but also entreat me to under-
take the cause of Corellia, in her absence, against C.

* It would seem from what follows ever consul he was nominated Quaes-

that the ratification of the appoint- tor," &c.

ment rested at this time with the + Studiis. He means, to eloquence,

Senate. Hence " ilium cujuscumque but writing of himself uses a more

Quaestorem " must mean "by what- general expression.

BOOK IV. 131

Csecilius, the Consul-Elect. I am obliged to you for
your admonition, but must complain of your entreat-
ing me. For I ought to be admonished, to be informed,
but I ought not to be entreated to do that which in my
case it would be highly discreditable not to do. Can /
hesitate to support the daughter of Corellius ? There
exists, to be sure, between me and the person against
whom you invoke my aid, if not an absolute intimacy, still
a friendship. Add to tliis the position of the man, and this
very post of honour to which he is designated, to which it
becomes me to pay all the more respect in that I have
myself before now filled it. Indeed it is natural that one
should wish to attach the greatest distinction to that
which has been enjoyed by one's self. But when I reflect
that it is on behalf of the daughter of Corellius that I am
to appear, all these considerations seem frigid and futile.
Before my eyes is the image of that great man, than whom
our age has produced none of greater dignity and piety and
acuteness of judgment ; whom, when I had begun to love
him owing to my admiration for him, I admired still more
(the contrary of which usually happens), after becoming
thoroughly acquainted with him. For I ivas thoroughly
acquainted with him. He had no secret for me, either in
his jesting or his serious, his sad or his cheerful moods.
I was still a stripling, and already he paid me the same
honour, and I will venture to say it, respect, as to an
equal. He was my supporter and backer whenever I
stood for office. He helped to escort and attend upon
me when I entered on my charge, he was my adviser and
guide in filling it. In short, whenever I had a function to
fill, there was he, though feeble and old, to be seen, just as
though he had been young and robust. How much did
he add to my reputation in private, in public, and even
with the prince ! For the conversation happening to turn,
in the presence of the Emperor Nerva, on virtuous young
men, and several persons having praised me, he remained
silent for awhile, a habit which added greatly to his im-

132 PLINY'S LETTERS.

pressiveness ; and then, with that dignity which you
remember, " Needs must be," says he, " that I should be
more sparing of my praises of Secundus, inasmuch as he
does nothing save by my advice." In this remark he
attributed to me what it would have been extravagant to
ask for in my prayers ; namely, that I did nothing except
with the utmost wisdom, inasmuch as all that I did was
by the advice of the wisest of men. More than this, on
his death-bed, he said to his daughter (she tells the story
herself), " I have prepared for you many friends, in virtue
of my long life ; but the chief of them are Secundus and
Cornutus." When I recall this, I understand that everv
effort must be used by me, not to seem to fall short in
any way of the confidence reposed in me by a man of
such sagacity. Wherefore, for my part, I shall certainly
assist Corellia with all promptitude, and shall not refuse
to expose myself to resentments. Though I expect to
obtain not only pardon but even approval from the person
himself : who, as you say, prosecutes a suit which is a
novel one as beincj against a woman :* if I mention all
these circumstances in my speech — of course with greater
detail and fulness than the narrow limits of a letter per-
mit— either by way of excuse or even of taking credit to
myself.

(i8.)

To Arrius Antoninus.

In what way can I better prove to you the extent of
my admiration for your Greek Epigrams than by the fact
that I have attempted to imitate and render some of them
in Latin ? Much for the worse, however ! This has been
caused, in part, by the feebleness of my own powers, but
also by the poverty, or rather, as Lucretius has it, by the
penury of our native tongue. However, if these produc-
tions, which are both written in Latin and written by me,

* Not knowing the character of the suit, we are unable to explain this.

BOOK IV. 133

shall seem to you to possess any attractions, what, think
you, must be the charm of those which have been pro-
duced by you and produced in Greek ?

(19.)

To Calpurnia Hispulla.

As you are a model of dutiful affection, as you cherished
that excellent brother of yours, who loved you so much,
with a regard equal to his, as you cherish his daughter as
if she were your own, exhibiting towards her the affection
not merely of an aunt, but even of the father whom she
has lost — for these reasons, I doubt not, it will be a great
joy to you to learn that she is turning out worthy of her
father, worthy of you, worthy of her grandfather. She is
gifted with remarkable quickness, as well as discretion, and
she loves me, which is a token of her purity. To this must
be added a love of literature which she has conceived from
her tenderness for me. She has got my works, and studies
them and even learns ' them by heart. How great is her
anxiety when she sees me going to speak in court, and how
great her joy when I have spoken ! She sets messengers
about to report to her what favour and applause I have
excited, and what is the result of the trial. Then, when-
ever I recite, she sits hard by, separated from us only by
a curtain, and catches up with eager ears the praises be-
stowed on me. She even sings verses of my composing
and sets them to her guitar, with no professor to teach
her save love, the best of masters. All this leads me to
entertain the surest hope of an unbroken harmony be-
tween us, destined to increase day by day. Eor it is not
my youth,* nor my person — things which gradually perish
and grow old — it is my fame that she cherishes. Nor
would any other conduct befit one who has received her
education at your hands, who has been formed by your pre-

* Aetatem, literally, "time of life." Pliny was probably about forty at
this time.

134 PLINY'S LETTERS.

cepts, and who in your abode has witnessed nothing but
what was pure and honourable, who, lastly, has grown ac-
customed to love me, through your commendations of me.
For as you revered my mother in the place of a parent, so
from my very boyhood were you in the habit of forming
me, of praising me, of prognosticating that I should be
such as I now appear to my wife to be. We vie with each
other, then, in thanking you : I for your having given her
to me, she for your having given me to her, as though you
had chosen us for each other.

(20.)

To Nonius Maximus.

What my opinion was of your books,* taken singly, I
made known after reading through each of them ; now you
shall hear my general judgment on the whole collection.
Your work is noble, vigorous, passionate, elevated, diversi-
fied, chaste, rich in figures, comprehensive too, and of a
copiousness which reflects credit on the author. In this
Avork you have taken the widest range, and borne on by
the sails of your genius as well as of your grief, each of
which has mutually assisted the other. For your genius
has added sublimity and grandeur to your grief, and your
grief has lent force and pungency to your genius.

(21.)

To Velius Cekealis.

How sad, how untimely the fate of the sisters Helvidise !
Both have died after child-birth, both of them after bear-
ing daughters. I am tormented by grief, nor do I grieve
unreasonably. So mournful a thing does it seem to me
that these virtuous young ladies should have been carried
off, by their fruitfulness, in the flower of their age. I am
pained at the lot of the infants so immediately and at the

* Lihris, here the divisions of a book ; probably " cantos."

BOOK IV. 135

moment of their birth bereaved of their parents ; I am
pained on account of the excellent husbands, and indeed
on my own account as well. For I cherish an enduring
affection for the father of these young ladies, though he
be now no more ; as has been testified by a speech of
mine and by my books. Only one of his three children
now survives, and in his desolation is the support and
stay of a house lately grounded on so many props.
Yet my grief will be greatly alleviated and assuaged if
fortune shall preserve liirti at any rate in health and safety,
and in resemblance to such a father and grandfather as
his were. And I am the more anxious for his well-being
and his good conduct, in consequence of his having become
an only child. You know the softness of my disposition
in matters of affection, and you know my nervousness :
hence you ought to be the less surprised at my having
great apprehensions in the case of one of whom I en-
tertain great hopes.

(22.)

To Sempkonius Eufus.

I have assisted at an inquiry held by our excellent
Emperor, having been summoned as one of his assessors.
An athletic contest used to be celebrated among the
Viennenses * in accordance with some one or other's will.
This contest, Trebonius Eufus — an admirable man and a
friend of mine — put a stop to and abolished during his
Duumvirship. It was alleged that he had no legal
authority for thus acting. He pleaded his own cause in
person with as much success as eloquence. What com-
mended his address was that he spoke, as a Eoman and
a good citizen should speak, in an affair concerning him-
self, in a well-considered dignified fashion. When the
opinions of the judges were being taken in succession,
Junius Mauricus — than whom there does not exist a more

* The inhabitants of Vienna (now Vienne, in the South of France).

136 PLINY'S LETTERS.

inflexible and straicjlitforward man — declared that the
contest ought not to be restored to the Viennenses. He
added, " I wish these things could be done away with in
Eome as well." Boldly and manfully spoken, you will
say. To be sure. But this is nothing new on the part of
Mauricus. He spoke just as manfully in the company of
the Emperor Nerva. Nerva was dining with a few friends,
and Veiento reclined next to him, and even on his bosom :
I have said all, when I have named the man. The con-
versation turned on Catullus Messalinus, who was blind,
and in whom to a naturally cruel disposition were super-
added the evils of blindness. He was without compunc-
tion, without shame, without pity, on which account he
was the more often hurled by Domitian — ^just like darts
which are themselves blind and without heed as they go
along — against the best men of the State. It was this
person's wickedness and sanguinary counsels that formed
the subject of general conversation at the dinner-table,
when the Emperor himself said, " What must we suppose
would have been his fate if he were still living ? " Upon
which Mauricus replied, " He would be dining with us ! "
I have made a long digression, yet not unwillingly. (Jt
was decided to do away with the contest, which has cor-
rupted the morals of the Viennenses, as ours here do those
of everybody ; for the vices of the Viennenses are confined
to these people themselves, while ours travel far and wide,
and, as in human bodies so in states, the worst diseases are
those which are diffused from the head. \

(23-)

To PoMPONius Bassus.

I was greatly pleased on learning from our common
friends that you, agreeably to your wisdom, are systema-
tically ordering, as well as bearing with, your retirement,
that you have a delightful residence, that you are bodily

BOOK IV. 137

active, now on land, now on the sea, that you argue a great
deal, listen to a great deal, read a great deal with atten-
tion, and, though your knowledge is so extensive, never-
theless learn something fresh every day. This is the way
in which a man should grow old, who has filled the highest
offices, and commanded armies and devoted himself en-
tirely to the service of the State, as long as it was proper
for him to do so ; for, early as well as middle life we are
bound to bestow on our country, old age upon ourselves,
as indeed the laws themselves admonish us, which restore
the old man to rest. When will it be allowable for me,
when will my age make it honourable, to imitate such a
model of noble tranquillity ? When will my retirement
be entitled to the name, not of slothfulness, but of
repose ?

(24.)

To Fabius Valens.

After speaking lately, before the Centumviri, in a case
which went through the four divisions of the court,* the
recollection occurred to me that in my youth I had simi-
■ larly plead in a fourfold case. My mind, as often hap-
pens, travelled a long way : I began to consider who in the
latter and who in the former trial had been the compan-
ions of my labours. I was the only one who had spoken
in both ! Such are the changes which are produced either
by the fragility of our mortal condition or by the fickle-
ness of fortune. Some of those who pleaded on the former
occasion are dead, others are in exile ; on one his age and
his health have imposed abstinence from speaking ; an-
other of his own accord enjoys a delightful repose; another
is at the head of an army ; another has been excused from
civil functions by the favour of the prince. And in con-

* See i. 18.

138 PLINY'S LETTERS.

nection "with myself how much that is changed ! My
profession * was the cause of my advancement ; by my
profession I was brought into danger, and then once more
advanced. The friendship of the virtuous was an assist-
ance to me, then it was against me, now once more it is
an assistance. If you reckon by years, all this will seem
but a short time ; if by the vicissitudes of events, an age.
This may be a warning to despair of nothing, and not to
put trust in anything, when we see so many mutations
brought about in such a whirling cycle. However, it is
my habit to share all my reflections with you, and to
admonish you with the same precepts and examples as
myself, and this has been the motive of my present letter.

(25.)

To Messius Maximus.

I wrote you word there was reason to fear that some
abuse might arise from the system of secret voting. The
fact has occurred. At the last Comitia, on some of the
tablets were found written a number of facetious expres-
sions, and even indecent ones : on one in particular, in
lieu of the candidates' names, there were those of some of
his supporters. The Senate was furious, and with loud
outcries invoked the anger of the Emperor against the
writer. He, however, escaped discovery : it is even pro-
bable that he was among those who expressed their
indignation. What must we suppose this man's private
life to be, when, in a matter of such importance, and
on an occasion of such solemnity, he indulges in such
buffoonery, who, in short, in the Senate, of all places,

* Studia must have this sense here, the virtuous was against him, he

He was in danger under Domitian. means in the time of Domitian. The

His eloquence and learning advanced favour and approval of the best citi-

him again under Nerva and Trajan, zens made him an object of suspicion

When he says that the friendship of to the tyrant.

BOOK IV.

139

exhibits his waggery and humour and smartness. Such
additional license is imparted to ill-disposed minds by
that assurance, " Who will know anything about it ? "
This fellow must have called for a tablet, taken his
pencil, and lowered his head to write, in awe of no
one, and with no respect for himself. Hence these
antics worthy of the stage-boards. Which way can
one turn ? What remedy can one discover ? Every-
where the abuses are worse than the remedies.

" But this to one above us is a care," * whose watchful
exertions are so much added to, day by day, by this im-
potent and yet unbridled wantonness of our time.

(26.)
To Mj<:cilius ISTepos.

You ask me to have my small productions — which you
have most carefully furnished yourself with — read over
and revised. What is there indeed that I ought to under-
take more willingly, especially at your request? Por
since you, a man of such dignity, learning, and eloquence,
and in addition to this, one so fully occupied, being indeed
about to undertake the government of an important
province — since you think it worth while to carry my
writings about with you, with what diligence ought I to
make provision that this portion of your baggage may not
seem a superfluous encumbrance to you. I shall endeavour
then, first, tQ make these companions of yours as agreeable
to you as possible, and next, that on your return you shall
find others such as you may like to add to these. For in
no small degree am I urged on to fresh works by the fact
that you are among my readers.

* To the Emperor. A quotation probably from some lost Greek play.

1 40 PLINY 'S LETTERS.

(27.)

To PoMPEius Falco.

It is just three days since I attended a recitation by
Sentius Augurinus, with the greatest pleasure, and indeed
admiration, as far as I am concerned. His title is " Short
Poems." There is much that is simple, much that is
elevated, much of the graceful and the tender, a great deal
of sweetness, and a great deal of bile in them. It is some
years, I think, since anything more perfect in the same
style has been written : unless, it may be, I am deceived
by my partiality for the writer, or by the circumstance
that he has lauded me. Tor he has taken as the theme*
of one of his pieces, that I sometimes disport myself in
verse. Nay more, I will have you be judge of my judg-
ment, if the second line of this very piece recurs to
me — the others I remember — stay, now, I have disen-
tangled it.

Sweetly flow my tender lays.
Like Calvus' or Catallus' strains

(Bards approved of ancient days),

Where love in all its sweetness reigns. •

Yet wherefore ancient poets name ?

Let Pliny my example be ;
Him the sacred wine inflame —

More than ancient poets he !

To mutual love he tunes the lay,

While far the noisy bar he flies ;
Say then, ye grave, ye formal say,

Who shall gentle love despise ? f

You see how pointed, how apt, how expressive every-
thing is. I promise you that the whole book corresponds
to this taste of it, and I will send it you as soon as he has
published it. Meanwhile, bestow your approval on the

* Lemma, literally ' ' the heading." f I have borrowed Melmoth'.s trans-
A little lower down it is used of the lation, which, though not very literal,
piece itself. gives a sufficient idea of the original.

BOOK IV. 141

young man, and congratulate our epoch on the possession
of such a genius, "which is set off too by his virtuous con-
duct. He spends his time with Spurinna and Antoninus ;
he is related to one of them, and an intimate of both.
You will hence be able to conjecture how blameless the
youth must be who is thus loved by old men of such lofty
worth —

Well knowing that
A man is like the company he keeps.*

(28.)

To YiBius Severus.

Herennius Severus, a man of great culture, is extremely
anxious to place in his library the likenesses of your
townsmen, Cornelius Nepos and Titus Catius, and he begs
me, if they can be found in your neighbourhood, as it is
likely they may be, to give an order to have copies of
them painted. This commission I enjoin on you parti-
cularly : first, because you are most obliging in complying
with my behests; next, because you have the highest regard
for literature and the greatest affection for literary men ;
lastly, because you venerate and cherish your native soil,
and equally with that soil itself those who have added to its
reputation. I beg further that you will engage as skilful a
painter as possible. For since it is hard to produce a like-
ness even from life, so the imitation of an imitation is a
matter of extraordinary difficulty. And I beg that you
will not suffer the artist whom you select to deviate from
his copy, even in the direction of improving on it.

(29O

To EOMATIUS FlEMUS.

Hark'ee, friend! when next business is being trans-
acted, manage by hook or by crook to attend the trial.

* Tlie original is from Euripides.

142 PLINY'S LETTERS.

It is no good sleeping on your right side and trusting to
me. Look you, Licinius Nepos when Praetor — a rigid
and determined man as well as a Prsetor — once im-
posed a fine even on a Senator. The latter pleaded his
cause in the Senate, but he pleaded it as though suing for
forgiveness. The fine was remitted; however, the man
had a fright, and had to entreat, and a pardon was neces-
sary. You will say, "All Praetors are not so severe."
You are mistaken ; for though only severe ones may
establish or reintroduce precedents of this sort ; yet,
when once they are established or reintroduced, even the
most indulgent ones may put them in force.

(30.)

To Licinius Suka.

I have brouglit you from my native parts, in lieu of a
present, a problem in a high degree worthy of your
great attainments. A certain spring rises in a mountain,
and runs down through the rocks, till it is enclosed in a
small dining-parlour made by hand ; after being slightly
retarded there, it empties itself into the Larian lake. Its
nature is very remarkable. Three times a day it is
increased and diminished in volume by a regular rise and
fall. This can be plainly seen, and when perceived is a
source of great enjoyment. You recline close to it, and
take your food and even drink from the spring itself (for
it is remarkably cold) ; meanwhile, with a regular and
measured movement, it either subsides or rises. If you
place a ring or any other object on the dry ground, it is
gradually moistened and finally covered over ; then again
it comes to view, and is by degrees deserted by the water.
If you watch long enough, you will see both of these pro-
cesses repeated a second and even a third time. Can it
be that some kind of hidden current of air at one time
opens, and at another compresses, the mouth and jaws of

BOOK IV. 143

the spring, according as it rushes in on its introduction, or
recedes on being expelled ? We see that this happens in
the case of narrow-necked vessels and objects of the same
kind, with an orifice that is not wide, and is not immedi-
ately open to the contents. For these, too, though they be
turned over, or inclined, check the passage of what they
pour forth, with a number of gulps, as it were, like the
struggles of some resisting spirit. Or, is the nature of
this spring the same as that of the ocean ; and in the same
way as the latter ebbs and flows, is this small stream
alternately drawn back and sent forth ? Or, again, like
rivers which on their way to the sea are driven back by
adverse winds and an opposing tide, so is there something
which repels the free course of this spring ? Or is it that
in its hidden ducts there is a regular reservoir, and that
while this is collecting what has been exhausted, the
stream is sent forth smaller and slower ; when it has col-
lected it, swifter and larger ? Or, again, is there some
sort of mysterious and hidden equipoise * which, when
it is emptied, raises and elicits the spring ; when it is full,
delays and throttles it ? Pray do you examine into the
causes (as you are capable of doing) of this singular
phenomenon. For my part, it is enough if I made
sufficiently clear the effects.

* It is well remarked by Doering here. "We need not, therefore, strain

that Pliny himself, by his language, ourselves in useless efforts to get out

admits that he attaches no very clear a very precise sense. Still, the

meaning to the terms which he uses general sense is clear enough.

( 144 )

BOOK V.

(I.)
To Annius Severus.

A legacy has fallen to me, a small one, but more agree-
able to me than tlie largest, " Why more agreeable than
the largest ? "

Pomponia Galla, having disinherited her son Asudius
Curianus, had left me one of her heirs, and had given me
for co-heirs Sertorius Severus, a man of Praetorian rank,
and other distinguished Eoman knights. Curianus begged
me to present my share to him, and thus help him with a
precedent* At the same time, he promised that it should
be secured to me by a tacit agreement to that effect. I
replied that it was not in accordance with my character to
do one thing openly and another thing in secret, besides
that it was not quite respectable to make a present to one
who was both rich and childless ; f in short, that it would
be of no service to him if I presented him with my share,
but that it would be of service to him if I withdrew my
claim to it, and that I was prepared to do so, if it were made
plain to me that he had been disinherited unjustly. Upon
which, said he, " Pray, investigate the matter." After a
short hesitation, " I will do so," I replied, " for, indeed, I
don't see why I should think myself of smaller account
than I seem to you. | But please to bear this in mind at

* 7. e., for getting their shares from f Pliny would have exposed him-

the other heirs. If Pliny had pre- self to the suspicion of playing the

tended to make a present of his captator, or fortune-hunter, by this

legacy, it would have strengthened concession.

Curianus' case, or, rather, he seems J I don't see why I should not

to have thought so — erroneously, as trust my own impartiality.
Pliny directly tells him.

BOOK V. 145

starting, that my determination will not fail me (in case
that should seem the honest conclusion) to pronounce in
favour of your mother. " As you wish," said he, " for you will
wish nothing but what is most equitable." I called to my
counsels two men of the highest character in the State at
that time, Corellius and Frontinus, and with these on either
side of me took my seat in my chamber. Curianus urged
what he considered made for him ; I replied briefly (since
there was no one else present to defend the honour of the
deceased), then I retired to consult, and in accordance with
the opinion of the council, " It seems to us, Curianus," said
I, " that your mother had just grounds for being angry with
you." After this he entered an action in the Centumviral
Court a<^ainst the remaining co-heirs, but not against me.
The day of the trial was approaching. ]\Iy co-heirs were
desirous of coming to a settlement and compromising the
matter, not from any distrust of their cause, but from fear
of the times.* They were afraid of what they saw had
happened to many, that as the result of a trial before the
Centumviri they might be capitally indicted. And, in
truth, there were among them some who might have had
their friendship both for Gratilla and Eusticus cast in
their teeth. They begged me to have a talk with Curianus.
"We met in the Temple of Concord. There, " If your
mother," said I, " had left you heir to a fourth part of her
property, pray, could you have complained ? t What if,
though she had instituted you heir to the whole, she had
so diminished the amount by bequests that no more than
a fourth part remained to you ? You ought then to be
satisfied if, after being disinherited by your mother, you
receive a fourth part from her heirs, which, however, I
will add to. You are aware that you entered no action
against me, and that by this time two years have expired,
so that I have obtained a right to my whole share in

* The times of Domitian. The ex- t This -would have been all he
pression is sufficiently explained by would have been legally entitled to.
what follows. It was his legitima poriio.

K

146 PLINY'S LETTERS.

virtue of uninterrupted enjoyment. But that my co-lieirs
may find you more conformable, and in order that you may
lose nothing by the respect you showed for me, I make you
the same offer on account of my share."

I enjoyed the recompense not only of a good conscience,
but of a good report. So now this very Curianus has left
me a legacy, signalising this action of mine (which, if I
do not flatter myself, was one in the ancient spirit) by a
remarkable compliment.

All this I have written to you, because it is my habit
to confer with you, just as with myself, about everything
which either pleases or pains me ; and, further, it seemed
hard to defraud you, who are so attached to me, of the
pleasure I was myself enjoying. Nor indeed am I such
a sage that it makes no difference to me if such actions of
mine as I believe to have been honourable are attended
by some ratification and, if I may so speak, reward.

(2.)

To Calpurnius Flaccus.

I have received your splendid thrushes,* a present for
which I can make no adequate return, either from the
resources of the city, since I am at my Laurentine villa,
or from the sea, owing to the dirty weather. You will
receive then, in return, this jejune note, quite outspoken
in its ingratitude, and which does not even imitate that
famous cunning of Diomed in exchanging presents.f
However, such is your good-nature, you will pardon it
all the more readily in that it confesses it deserves no
pardon.

* Or, fieldfares {turdos). I believe + Alluding to the story in the
the modern Italians call all small Iliad where Diomed receives from
birds of this kind "tordi." Glaucus arms of gold in exchange for

arms of brass.

BOOK V. 147

(30
To TiTius Aeisto.

Many kind offices have you done me which have been
welcome and agreeable to me, but this especially that you
have thought it right not to conceal from me how, at your
house, there has been a considerable and detailed discussion
on the subject of my trifles in verse, which, owing to dif-
ferences of opinion, was carried to a great length. There
were some even, it seems, who, while not actually con-
demning these productions in themselves, yet found fault
with me, in a kindly and outspoken way, for writing and
reciting them. To these, at the risk of adding to my sin,
I give this reply. I do sometimes compose trifles in
verse, of a not very grave character : I own to it ; and so
too I listen to comedians, and go to see actors in farces,
and read lyric poets, and appreciate productions in the
style of Sotades ; * sometimes, moreover, I indulge in
laughter, in jokes, in play, and — to include in one term
every species of harmless recreation — I am a man. Now,
certainly, I cannot be offended at there being such an
opinion of my character that persons should wonder at
my writing these things who are ignorant of the fact that
the most highly cultivated, most respectable, and most
virtuous men have frequently scribbled in the same way.
Yet from those who do know what authorities I follow,
and how great they are, I am confident that I shall easily
obtain leave to err, provided it be in company with those
whose sportive productions, as well as their serious
actions, may be imitated with approval. Shall I be afraid
(I won't name any living person, for fear of exposing my-
self to any appearance of flattery), but shall I be afraid
that that is not quite becoming to me which became M.
TuUius, C. Calvus, Asinius Pollio, M. Messala, Q. Horten-

* A Greek poet who wrote loose verses.

148 PLINY'S LETTERS.

sius, M. Brutus, L. Sulla, Q. Catulus, Q. Scsevola, Ser.
Sulpicius, M. Varro, Torquatus, nay the Torquati, C. Mem-
mius, Lentulus Gsetulicus, Annseus Seneca, Annseus
Lucanus, and recently Verginius Eufus ; or, if examples
short of imperial * do not suffice, the Emperor Julius, the
Emperor Augustus, the Emperor Nerva, Tiberius Ctesar ?
Nero, indeed, I pass over, though aware that a practice is
not tainted by being sometimes shared in by bad people,
hut continues to be respectable in that it is frequently
employed by the virtuous. Among the latter must be
especially numbered P. Vergilius, Cornelius Nepos, and,
before them, Accius and Ennius. These, it is true, were
not Senators, but purity of character knows no distinction
of ranks.

However, I recite too ; and I do not know whether those
who have been named did this or not. Very good. But
they might well be content with their own judgment, while
my self-consciousness is too modest for me to think a thing
sufficiently perfect because it is approved by myself. Ac-
cordingly, I am led to recite by these incentives ; first,
because he who recites will apply himself with a some-
what keener attention to what he writes, out of regard for
his audience ; next, because he will be able to decide on
points which are doubtful, by virtue as it were of the
decision of a council. Again, he will receive many hints
from many persons ; and even if he do not receive them,
he will ascertain the sentiments of individual hearers, by
their expression, their eyes, a nod of the head, a gesture
of the hands, their silence even — things which distinguish
one's real opinion from mere complaisance by sufficiently
evident signs. And accordingly, if by chance any one of
those who were present as hearers shall care to read what
he has heard, he will see that I have either altered or left
out certain portions, perhaps actually in accordance with

* Exempla privata. Privatus, in to a sovereign. Originally, a person
Pliny's time, meant generally what who was not in a public office,
we should call "a subject " as opposed

BOOK V. 149

his judgment, though he may himself have said nothing
to me. But I am arguing all this as though it had been
my habit to invite the public to a lecture-room instead of
some friends into my chamber ; yet to have friends in great
numbers is a glory to many and a subject of reprehension
to none.

(4.)
To Julius Valepjanus.

Here is a matter, small in itself, but the prelude to no
small one. SoUers, a man of Prsetorian rank, petitioned
the Senate to be allowed to establish periodical markets
on his estate. Delegates from Vicentia spoke in opposi-
tion to this. Tuscilius ISTominatus assisted them, and the
cause was adjourned. At another meeting of the Senate,
the people from Vicentia appeared without an advocate,
saying, that they had been "deceived" — either a hasty
expression, or else they really thought so. On being
questioned by Nepos the Praetor as to whom they had
instructed, they replied, the same person as before. Further
questioned as to whether he had assisted them gratuitously
on that occasion, they replied that he had received six
thousand sesterces.* Had they given him anything be-
yond this ? A thousand denarii, f they said. ISTepos pro-
posed that Nominatus should be summoned before the
Senate. So much for that day ; but as far as I can prog-
nosticate, the matter will go further. For there are many
things which, if they be only just touched or in the least
set in motion, will imperceptibly spread themselves over
a very wide surface,

I have pricked up your ears for you ! How long and
how cajolingly will you have to beg, to learn the sequel ?
if indeed, you do not antedate your coming to Eome on
account of this very matter, preferring to see with your
own eyes, rather than read about it.

* About ;^48. t About £2,1-

ISO PLINY'S LETTERS.

(5-)
To Nonius Maximus.

The death of G. Fannius has been announced to me,
and this announcement has been to me a grievous shock,
because, in the first place, I had a great affection for that
man of taste and learning, and further, because I was in
the habit of profiting by his judgment. He was indeed
by nature acute, as well as practised by experience, and
his sincerity made him ever ready. Besides these con-
siderations, I am pained by the circumstances of his
death : he has died with his old will in force, leaving out
those whom he most regarded, and benefiting those with
whom he was displeased.

This, however, might be in some way endurable ; what
is more serious is, that he has left an admirable work
unfinished. For, though closely occupied by his practice
at the bar, he was, nevertheless, engaged in writing of the
ends of those who had been either put to death or banished
by Nero. He had already completed three books, composed
with taste and diligence, in pure Latin, and in a style
midway between that of conversation and history ; and
he was the more desirous of getting the remaining books
completed, in consequence of the previous ones having
found a number of eager readers. To me, however, the
deaths of those who are preparing something immortal
seem, in all cases, untimely and immature. For as to
those who, given over to pleasures, live as it were for the
day, these complete every day the purpose for which they
exist. Those, on the other hand, who contemplate pos-
terity, and extend the memory of themselves by their
works — to these no death can be other than sudden,
since it always breaks off something which has been
initiated.

Gains Fannius, indeed, had long foreseen the event.

BOOK V. 151

In a dream at night he seemed to himself to be reclining
on his sofa, disposed in an attitude for study, with his
case of books before him (as was his habit) : presently
he dreamt that Nero came in and seated himself on the
couch, and, taking out the first book which he (Fannius)
had published on the subject of his crimes, turned over
the leaves to the end ; then, that he did the same with the
second and third books ; finally, that he departed. He
was greatly alarmed, interpreting this to mean that he
was destined to come to an end of his writing at the place
where Nero made an end of reading, and so it turned out.
On recalling this, a feeling of commiseration comes over
me to think what vigils, what labours, have been expended
by him in vain. My mortal condition, my own writings,
present themselves to my mind. Nor do I doubt that
you too will be alarmed, by the same kind of reflection,
for those things which you have in hand. So then, while
life suffices, let us set to work, that death may have as
little as possible to destroy.

(6.)

To DoMiTius Apollinaris.

I was much pleased with your care and soKcitude on
my account, when, on hearing that I was about to repair
to my Tuscan estate, in summer, you dissuaded me from
doing so at a time when you deem it unhealthy. It is
true that the side of Tuscany, which extends along the
coast, is unwholesome and pestilential ; but this property
of mine is a long way from the sea, and, moreover, under-
lies the Apennine range, the most salubrious of mountains.
And further, that you may lay aside all fear on my ac-
count, let me tell you about the character of the climate,
the situation of the country, and the charms of my villa.
It will be a pleasure to you to hear of these things, and to
me to relate them.

JS2 PLINY'S LETTERS.

The climate in winter is cold and frosty, unfavourable
and indeed fatal to myrtles and olive-trees, and everything
else which delights in continuous warmth ; yet it is toler-
ant of laurels, and in fact brings on very fine ones, some-
times, it is true, killing them off, yet not more frequently
than happens in the neighbourhood of Eome. The sum-
mers are wonderfully soft, the air is always stirred by a
kind of breath ; yet it is more often breezy than windy.
Hence, old men are numerous, you may see the grand-
fathers and great grandfathers of youths already grown,
you may hear old stories and old folks' talk, and when
you visit the place you may fancy yourself born in
another age.

The lie of the country is charming : imagine a kind of
amphitheatre of immense size, and such as nature alone
can construct. A broad and spreading plain is surrounded
by mountains ; the mountains on their highest summits
are crowned with lofty and venerable forests, and in
these there is game in plenty and variety. Next to these
are woods for cutting, following the downward slope of
the mountain ; and interspersed with them are rich and
loamy knolls (indeed a stone does not readily present
itself anywhere, even if you look for one) which do not
yield in point of fertility to the flattest plains, and bring
to maturity a rich harvest, though it be a somewhat late
one. Below these, vineyards stretch along the whole side
of the mountain, and present a uniform appearance far
and wide. They are terminated, or fringed so to speak at
the base, by shrubberies. Then come meadows and corn-
fields, fields which can be broken up only by the largest
oxen and the strongest ploughs : the soil is so stiff and
rises up in such huge clods when first cut into, that it is
only by a course of nine plough ings that it can finally be
reduced. The meadows, gemmed with flowers, rear the
trifolium and other kinds of herbage always soft and
tender, and in a manner new ; everything being matured
by never-failing streams. Yet, where there is the greatest

BOOK V. 153

quantity of water, there is no marsh, because the land,
being on an incline, pours into the Tiber all the moisture
which it receives and does not absorb. That river runs
through the middle of the estate, it is of a size to carry
ships, and conveys the whole of our produce to Eome, that
is to say, in winter and spring ; in summer it is lowered,
and leaves the name of a large river to a dry channel ; in
autumn it resumes its character. You would be greatly
charmed if you viewed this situation from the mountains ;
you would fancy yourself looking not at so much country,
but at a kind of landscape painted with the most exquisite
beauty : such is the variety, such the harmonious disposi-
tion, which refreshes the eye wherever it turns.

My villa commands as good a view of what lies under
the hill as though it were on the summit ; so gentle and
gradual is the unperceived rise to it that you find you have
made an ascent, without knowing that you have been
ascending. At its back it has the Apennines, but some way
off. From these it enjoys breezes, however calm and un-
ruffled the day, not sharp or cutting ones, however, but such
as are softened and broken by the mere space they have
passed over. It has, for the most part, a southerly aspect,
and invites — if I may so speak — into a broad and slightly
projecting cloister the summer sun from the sixth hour, the
winter sun rather earlier. In this cloister there are several
apartments, and a hall, too, after the ancient fashion. In
. front of the cloister is a variegated terrace walk, with
borders of box, then a descent to a sloping garden bank,
with forms of animals cut out in box facing each other.
On the Bat ground is an acanthus so soft that I had almost
called it liquid. Eound this is a walk, enclosed by ever-
greens planted close, and cut into different shapes. Be-
yond this is a promenade in the form of a ring, wliich
encircles the variously shaped boxes and the low trimmed
shrubs. All this is protected by a wall covered and con-
cealed by a sloping hedge of box. Then comes a green
expanse not less worthy to be viewed for its natural than

154 PLINY'S LETTERS.

what has been above mentioned for its artificial beauties.
There are fields further on and many other green meads
and coppices.

Prom the extremity of the cloister a dining-room pro-
jects. Through its folding doors it looks out on the end of
the terrace walk, and straight on the green expanse and a
large extent of country ; from its windows, in one direction,
it commands the side of the terrace walk and the project-
ing part of the villa ; in the other, the trees in the riding-
school and their foliage. OjDposite to about the middle of
the cloister, there is a receding building which encloses a
small court shaded by four plane-trees. Among these a
fountain gushes forth from an orifice of marble, refreshing
with its gentle spray the plane-trees which are disposed
around it, and everything underlying them. There is in
this building a sleeping-apartment, which excludes day-
light and loud noises and even sounds ; and adjoining this
a dining-parlour for every-day use and the reception of
friends. It commands the small court of which I spoke
and the cloister, and the same prospect as that from the
cloister. There is also another saloon which enjoys the
verdure and shade of a plane-tree close to it, adorned with
marble to the height of the window openings, and above
this with wall-paintings which in beauty do not yield
to the marble ; they represent trees, and birds sitting on
the trees. There is a small fountain in this room, and a
basin to the fountain ; around it a number of jets combine
to produce a most delightful murmur. At the angle of the
cloister a large saloon faces the dining-room. Some of its
windows look down on the terrace walk, and others on the
paddocks, but first of all upon the piscina, which is an
attraction to and underlies the windows, and is a pleasant
object to the ear as well as the eye, for the water rushes
down from a height and foams as it strikes on the marble
bottom. This same saloon is extremely warm in winter
time, owing to its being penetrated by a great quantity of
sunlight. A heating-room is attached to it, %vhich, on

BOOK V. 155

cloudy days, supplies the place of the sun by the warm
air it pours in. Next to this a roomy and cheerful dress-
ing-room conducts you to the cold-bathing apartment,
where there is a large and sheltered plunging-bath. If
you wish to swim more at your ease, or in warmer water,
there is a piscine in the court and a reservoir hard by,
where you may brace yourself afresh if you have had too
much of the warmth. With the cold bath-room is con-
nected one of medium temperature, which is particularly
favoured by the sun ; this is still more the case with the
hot bath-room, for it is projecting. In this there are three
tiers of baths, two enjoying the sun, the third less warm,
but not less lifrht. Over the dressing-room is the tennis-
court, large enough for several kinds of games and several
parties of players. Not far from the bath is a staircase
which leads to a covered cloister, first of all, however, to
three parlours. One overlooks the little court in which
are the four plane-trees, another the paddocks, the third
the vineyards, so that each has a different aspect as weK
as prospect. At the upper end of the covered cloister
is a saloon cut out of the cloister itself, which commands
the riding-school, the vineyards, and the mountains. Ad-
joining this is another saloon exposed to the sun, especially
in winter. Next comes an apartment which connects the
villa with the riding-school. Such are the appearance and
the arrangement of the house in front.

At the side is a covered cloister for summer use, situated
on a rising ground, which seems not so much to look upon
the vineyards as to be touching them. In the centre of
this, a dining-room receives a very wholesome air from the
Apennine valleys ; behind, it admits, as one may say, the
vineyards through windows of great size, and the same
vineyards, through its folding doors, viewed along the
cloister. On the side of this dining-room, on which there
are no windows, a staircase serves for introducing what is
necessary for the repast, by a more private entrance. At

156 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the end is a saloon, to whicli the cloister itself furnishes a
prospect no less agreeable than the vineyards.

Underneath is another cloister, which resembles an
underground one. In summer it is extremely cool, and,
sufficiently supplied with air of its own, is neither in want
of nor admits the external atmosphere. After the two
cloisters, at the point where the dining-room ends, a
colonnade begins, with a winter temperature before mid-
day and a summer one in the afternoon. This forms the
approach to two suites of rooms, in one of which are four
saloons, and in the other three ; and these, as the sun goes
round, enjoy either the sunshine or the shade.

The disposition and charms of the villa are, however,
far surpassed by the riding-ground, an open expanse which
presents itself in its entirety to your eyes the moment you
enter it. It is surrounded by plane-trees, and these are
clothed with ivy, so that the tops of them are green with
their own leaves, and the lower parts with the leaves of the
other. The ivy creeps over trunk and branches, and links
together neighbouring planes in its passage. The inter-
stices are filled by box. The exterior boxes are encircled
by laurels which add their shade to that of the planes.
The straight line of the riding-ground is broken at the
extreme end by a semicircle, so as to present a different
appearance. This is surrounded and protected by cypresses,
and thus darkened and obscured by a deeper shade ; but
the inner circles (for there are several of them) enjoy the
clearest day. Hence, too, they bear roses, and produce a
diversion from the cool shade by their pleasant sunniness.

At the end of these winding ways, with their varied and
diversified character, comes the straight road again, and
not one only, for a number of paths are separated from
each other by intervening boxes. At one point a lawn,
at another point the box itself comes in, cut into a thou-
sand shapes, sometimes into those of letters, which give
you here the name of the owner, there that of the artist ;
sometimes every other one rises in the form of a small

BOOK V. 157

pyramid, and its neighbour has an apple-tree planted in
the middle of it, an unexpected imitation as it were of
the rustic introduced into an object which smacks a good
deal of the town. A space in the middle is ornamented
on both sides by dwarf plane-trees. Beyond, there is an
acanthus, pliant and flexible in all directions — then more
figures and more names. At the top is a semicircular seat
of white marble, shaded by a vine ; the vine is supported
by four small columns of Carystian marble. From this
seat water gushes forth through tiny pipes, just as if it
were set in motion by the weight of the persons reclining.
It is collected in the hollowed rock, and deposited in a
polished marble basin, being so regulated by a hidden
contrivance, as to fill without overflowing it. My pic-nic
tray and the heavier part of my dinner-service are placed
on the edge of the basin, the lighter parts make the round
of the water, floating in the form of little boats and birds.
On the other side is a fountain which projects water
and receives it again ; for, after being propelled to a
height, it falls back on the same place, being absorbed and
emitted through orifices which communicate with each
other.

Eight opposite the seat is a saloon which reflects as
much ornament on the seat as it derives from it. It is
resplendent with marble, its folding-doors project into the
shrubbery, and from its upper and lower windows it looks
down upon and up to other shrubberies. Next comes a
retreating cabinet, a part as it were and yet not a part of
the saloon. Here there is a couch, and windows on every
side, yet the light is obscured by the depth of the shade ;
for a luxurious vine scrambles and mounts up the whole
building to the roof. You may He here just as if you were
in a grove, the only difference being that you will not feel
the showers as you would in a grove. Here, too, a foun-
tain rises and immediately disappears. At many points
marble seats are disposed, as resting to the weary walker
as the saloon itself could be. Small fountains adjoin the

158 PLINY'S LETTERS.

seats. Throughout the whole of the riding-ground there
are gurgling streams introduced, by means of pipes, follow-
ing the lead of man's hand ; by the aid of these the various
shrubs are watered at different times and sometimes all of
them together.

I should long since have avoided the imputation of
loquacity, had I not determined to go round every corner
of the place with you in my letter. Nor was I afraid that
you would be wearied with reading of that which you
would not weary of seeing in person ; especially as you
might rest between whiles, if so disposed, and laying down
the letter, often take a seat, so to speak. Besides I have
indulged my partiality ; for I am partial to what was in
great part laid out by myself or completed by me after it
had been laid out. To sum up (for why not freely inform
you of my opinion, it may be my mistaken one ?), I deem
it the first duty of a writer to read over his title and from
time to time ask himself what it was that he undertook
to write about, feeling sure that if he only sticks to his
subject he will not be tedious, while he will be very
tedious indeed if he goes in quest of or drags in any
foreign matter. You see the number of lines in which
Homer and Virgil describe, the one the arms of ^neas, the
other those of Achilles ; yet each of them is brief, because
he is only doing what he proposed to do. You see how
Aratus follows up and catalogues even the tiniest stars :
yet he observes the bounds : here is no digression on his
part, it is the very work he has to do. Similarly, in my
case (to compare small things with great), when I am en-
deavouring to set the whole of my villa before your eyes,
provided I say nothing alien to the subject and as it were
out of the way, it is not the letter which gives the descrip-
tion, but the villa which is described, that is of great size.
However, to return to my starting-point, for fear of being
justly censured in accordance with my own rule, if I go
further with this digression of mine; you now know
why I prefer my Tuscan property to those at Tusculum,

BOOK V. 159

Tibur, and Prseneste. For in addition to what has been
mentioned, the retirement there is more complete, more
snug, and consequently less liable to interruption. There
is no need to put on one's toga ; nobody wants you in the
neighbourhood ; everything is calm and quiet ; and this
in itself adds to the healthiness of the locality no less
than the brightness of the sky and the clearness of the
atmosphere. Here, both mentally and bodily, I am in
especial vigour ; for my mind I exercise by study, and my
body by the chase. My household too are nowhere in
better health. Up to this time, at any rate, I have not
lost there a single person among those whom I brought
out with me (may no harm come of my saying so !). May
the gods continue for the future this, which is a joy to me
and a glory to the place.

(7-)
To Calvisius Eufus.

It is plain that a community can neither be constituted
heir-at-law, nor take preferentially. Yet Saturninus, who
has left us his executors,* has given a fourth part of his
property to our community, -f- and subsequently, in lieu of
this fourth, a preferential legacy of four hundred thousand
sesterces. % This, if you look to the law, is null and void ;
if to the intention of the deceased, it is valid and not to
be upset. Now, to my way of thinking, the intention of
the deceased (I am apprehensive how the lawyers may
take what I am going to say) is of higher import than the
letter of the law, particularly in the case of what it was
intended should go to our common birth-place. Could
I, who have bestowed on it eleven hundred thousand
sesterces § out of my own purse, refuse to this community

* Heredes. The sense of executor- monwealtli (commune) the corpora-
ship being proniinent here, I have tion of the town,
preferred the word which signifies J About _^32oo.
it. § About ;|/^88oo. Undecies : another

t Reipuhllcac nostrae, to our com- reading is sedecies.

i6o PLINY'S LETTERS.

a •windfall of four hundred thousand, or little more than
a third of the above amount ? I am sure that you, in
particular, will not be opposed to my judgment, seeing
that like an admirable citizen you cherish this same birth-
place of ours. I should wish then that, the next time the
town-council come together, you would point out to them
the law of the case, briefly however and quietly ; then
add that we make them a present of the four hundred
thousand sesterces, in accordance with Saturninus's in-
junctions. His be the gift, his the liberality ; let our
part be styled compliance merely. I have desisted from
writing all this publicly, first because I remembered that
the closeness of our friendship, and the strength of your
own perspicuity, would make it your duty as well as put
it in your power to speak for me as well as yourself ; next
because I feared that the proper mean, which it will be
easy for you to preserve when speaking, might seem not
to have been observed in a letter. For a speech receives
its tone from the expression, the gestures, the voice itself,
which accompany it ; while a letter, being destitute of all
such commendations, is exposed to the malignity of its
interpreters.

(8.)

To TiTiNius Capito.

You advise me to write a history, and you are not sin-
gular in giving this advice. Many persons, at many times,
have urged me to the same effect ; and for my part I am
willing to do so, not from any confidence that the work
will be easy to me (it would be rash to suppose this, un-
less one had tried), but because it seems in a high degree
noble not to allow those to perish who have merited im-
mortality, and to extend the fame of others in company
with one's own. Moreover, to me there is no inducement
so strong as the love and longing for an enduring fame, a
longing in every way worthy of a man, especially of one

BOOK V. i6i

who is conscious of no guilt, and hence does not dread
being remembered by posterity. So by day, and night too,
I ponder —

" By what fair means to raise my grovelling name."

Eor this would satisfy my wishes. The rest would be
beyond my wishes —

" To flit a victor through the lips of men." *
" Yet, oh ! " t

However, the former suffices me ; and this, historical com-
position seems almost alone to promise. For an oration
or a poem meets with small favour, unless it be in the
loftiest style, whereas a history pleases in whatever way
it is written; since men are by nature inquisitive, and
charmed at being made acquainted with events in the
barest fashion, being indeed often led away by even small
stories and tales. In my case, I am further impelled to
this pursuit by an example in my own family; my
maternal uncle, who was also my father by adoption, wrote
histories, and with the most religious care too. Now, I
find it stated by the sages that it is a noble thing to follow
in the footsteps of one's ancestors, provided only the way
they have gone before you was the right one. Why hesi-
tate? I have pleaded in great and important causes.
These speeches of mine (though with but slender hopes
from them) I propose to revise, lest the results of such
great toil should perish with me, if I fail to bestow this
remaining attention on them ; for to those who take
account of posterity, whatever is not perfected is as though
it had never been begun. You will say, "You can re-
write your speeches and compose a history at the same
time." I wish I could ! But both are matters of such

* These two lines are from tlie Non jam prima peto Mnestheus neque

third Georgic. vincere certo,

t Quamquam C / " Yet, O ! " from Quamquam O !

the boat-race in the fifth ^neid. " I no longer seek the first place — and

Mnestheus, in danger of being dis- yet ! and yet ! "
tanced, cries out —

i62 PLINY'S LETTERS.

importance that it is more than enough to accomplish one
of them. I began to speak in the rorum in my nineteenth
year, and only now perceive, yet still through a mist, what
is required of an orator. What if to such a burden a fresh
one be added? No doubt an oration and a history have
much that is common; they have, however, still more
numerous diversities, and precisely in those points which
seem to be common to them. Both are in the way of narra-
tion, but in a different style. In the one case, simple, com-
mon, every-day language is mostly suitable ; in the other,
there should be everywhere profundity, brilliancy, and
elevation. The one is in general all bone, muscle, and
sinew ; the other requires to be set off by fleshly integu-
ments and, if I may so express it, a flowing crest. The
one pleases, above all, by its vigour, its incisiveness, its
persistency ; the other by its expansiveness and gentleness,
and even sweetness. In short, the language is different ;
the tone and the style of composition are different. For
there is a wide distinction, as Thucjdides has it, between
['a permanent possession" and "a contest for a prize."
An oration is the latter, a history is the former .^ For these
reasons, I am not tempted to mix up and confound two
matters so dissimilar, and which their very importance dis-
tinguishes from each other ; fearing that I should lose my
head in such a medley, so to speak, and be found writing
in one place what I ought to be writing in the other. So
I must, in the interim (to adhere to my own phraseology),
ask the Court for an adjournment. Do you, however, at
once consider what epoch I had best attack. An ancient
one, written of by others ? Here the materials for investi-
gation would be at hand, but the collation of them would
be arduous.* Or a period as yet unhandled and recent ?
Here the risk of offence would be great, the success to be
obtained slight. For besides that, in view of the great

* Onerosa collatio. Some take this writers." The plain sense, however,
to mean, " I should have to stand an is that given in the text,
unpleasant, comparison with former

BOOK V. 163

corruption of mankind, there are more subjects for censure
than for praise, there is this, that, where you praise, you
will be said to be niggardly, and where you censure, to be
extravagant ; though you may have been most lavish in
the former case, and most sparing in the latter. But these
considerations do not restrain me. I have sufficient
courage on behalf of the truth. What I ask is that you
would prepare the way for the undertaking you advise, by
selecting a subject, lest, now that I am quite prepared to
write, there should arise afresh some new and valid ground
for hesitation and delay.

(9.)
To KuFus.

I had gone down to the Basilica Julia, to listen to
those whom it was my duty to reply to at the next ad-
journment of the Court. The judges were sitting, the
decemvirs had come in, the advocates were in full view,
there was a long silence. At length came a message from
the Prsetor. The Centumviri were dismissed, and pro-
ceedings suspended for the day ; to my delight, who am
never so well prepared as not to be rejoiced at a delay.
The reason for the adjournment was that Nepos the
Praetor is conducting an investigation in accordance with
the law. He had put forth a short edict, in which he
warned prosecutors and defendants as well, that he
should carry out the provisions of the Senate's decree.
The decree in question was appended to the edict.
It ordered everybody who was engaged in legal pro-
ceedings to make oath before litigating, that he had not
given, promised, or guaranteed anything to any one in
return for his advocacy. Such were the words, and a
number of others besides, by which the sale and barter of
advocacy were forbidden. However, at the termination
of the suit, it permitted money to be given, to the extent
of ten thousand sesterces.* The Preetor who presides

* About ;^8o.

i64 PLINY'S LETTERS.

over Centumviral causes was perplexed by this action of
Nepos, and, with the view of deliberating whether he
should follow the precedent, gave us an unexpected holi-
day. Meanwhile, the edict of Nepos is either carped at
or praised through the whole city. Many say, " So then
we have found a man to make crooked things straight !
"What ? were there no Prsetors before this one ? Pray,
who is this personage who purifies public morals ? "
Others retort, " He has done perfectly right. Before as-
suming office, he took cognisance of the law, and read the
Senate's decrees ; now, he checks bargains which are dis-
graceful in the extreme, and will not allow what is a most
noble avocation to be the subject of barter." Such are
the opinions expressed, which will prevail on one side or
the other, according to the event. For though it is alto-
gether unfair, yet it is a received usage, that designs
whether creditable or scandalous, according as they turn
out successful or unsuccessful, are proportionately either
approved or blamed. Hence often the self-same actions
are styled by the denomination, now of prudent zeal, now
of self-seeking, sometimes of boldness, and at other times
of insanity.

(10.)

To Suetonius Teanquillus.

Pray at length discharge the engagement entered into
by my hendecasyllabic verses, which guaranteed our com-
mon friends some writings from your pen. These verses
are being daily called upon and dunned, and there is some
danger of their being served with a notice to produce.* I
myself am given to hesitation in the matter of publishing,
but you have surpassed even my dilatoriness and tardi-
ness. Accordingly either break off delay at once, or have
a care lest these same writings, which my hendecasyllables

* He is in these opening sentences jocularly using the language of the
courts.

BOOK V. 165

can't get out of you by caresses, be extorted by tbe severe
handling of my iambic trimeters.* Your work is per-
fected and completed : your critical file is no longer bright ;
on the contrary, it is being worn with use. Suffer me to
see your title, suffer me to hear that the volumes of my
friend Tranquillus are being copied out and read and
sold. It is right, when our love is so mutual, that I
should derive from you the same pleasure as you enjoy
from me.

(rr.)
To Calpuknius Fabatus, his Wife's Gkandfather.

I have received your letter, from which I learn that you
have dedicated to the use of the public a very handsome
arcade, in your own name and that of your son ; also that,
on the following day, you promised a sum of money for
the ornamentation of its doors, in order that your gene-
rosity might take a fresh departure by crowning what had
gone before. I rejoice, first of all, on account of your own
glory, some portion of which must, in consequence of our
connection, redound to my credit ; next, because I see that
the memory of my father-in-law is being prolonged by
public constructions of so noble a character; lastly, be-
cause our native place is flourishing, and while it would
be a pleasure to me that it should be adorned by any one,
it is a subject of the greatest delight that this should be
done by you in particular. It only remains for me to
pray the gods that they may continue this disposition to
you, and give you as long a time as possible for its exer-
cise. For I am sure it will happen that as soon as you
have completed what you lately promised, you will begin
upon something else. Generosity indeed when once set
in motion is unable to stand still, and the very exercise of
it enhances its charms.

* Scazontes, usually employed in satire.

i66 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(12.)
To Teeentius Scaueus.

Intending to read aloud a short oration, which I have
thoughts of publishing, I invited some friends, in order to
excite my diffidence, but only a few, in order to hear the
truth. For I have two reasons for reciting : one, that I may
be stimulated by apprehension ; the other, that I may be
admonished in case anything chances to escape me, as
being my own work. I was gratified in my desire, and
found persons to place their advice at my disposal.
Further, on my own account, I noted some things for
correction ; and have corrected the book and sent it to
you. You will learn the subject from the title, the rest
the book itself will explain; and indeed the time has
now come when it must accustom itself to be intelligible
without any prefatory remarks. Please to write me your
opinion of the whole as well as of the parts. For I shall
be either more cautious in the way of keeping it back, or
more emboldened to publish it, according as your authority
shall be added in one direction or the other.

(13)

To Valeeianus.

You ask of me, and I promised in case you asked, to
write you word of the issue of Nepos's proposal with regard
to Tuscilius Nominatus.* Nominatus was introduced, and
pleaded his own cause in person, no one appearing to
prosecute ; for the agents from Vicentia not only refrained
from pressing him, but actually assisted him. The sub-
stance of his defence was that his courage, and not his
honour, had failed him in his office of advocate ; that he
had come down with the intention of speaking and had
even been seen in court ; that he had subsequently retired,
frightened by the observations of his friends ; for they had

* See Letter 4 of this book.

BOOK V. i6

advised him not to offer such a pertinacious resistance to
the wishes of a Senator (especially in the Senate) whose
contention seemed no longer about markets merely, but
concerning his own influence, reputation, and dignity ; that,
otherwise, he would be exposed to still greater odium than
was recently the case. And in truth, on the former occa-
sion, some cries had been raised against him, though only
by a few however, as he left the court.* He supplemented
all this with prayers and a quantity of tears : indeed
throughout the whole of his speech this practised pleader
took pains to appear rather as one entreating forgiveness
(certainly the more popular and safer course), than as if
defending himself. He was acquitted on the motion of
Afranius Dexter, consul elect, the substance of which was to
the effect that, while Nominatus would certainly have done
better if he had carried through the cause of the Vicetians
in the same spirit as that in which he had undertaken it ;
yet, as he had fallen into this kind of error with no
fraudulent intent, and was proved to have committed
nothing worthy of punishment, he ought to be discharged,
on condition of returning his fees to the Vicetians. This
was assented to by all, with the exception of Fabius Aper,
who proposed that Nominatus should be disbarred for five
years, and though he could not carry any one by his
authority, he remained fixed in his opinion. More than
this, after citing the law on the subject of convening the
Senate, he insisted that Dexter, who had originated the
opposite proposal, should make oath " that what he had
proposed was in the interest of the State." Though this
demand was in accordance with law, yet several cried out
against it as seeming to charge corrupt motives on the
mover. However, before the votes of the Senate were
given, Nigrinus, a tribune of the people, read out an

* Adclamatum eratexeunti. Doer- leaving the court, i.e., for throwing
ing, taking adclamatum in its more up his brief. But this is very round-
usual sense, understands this to mean about. And, moreover, adclamare is
that several persons on the former not so unusual as D. thinks, in an un-
occasion applauded Nominatus for favourable sense.

1 68 PLINY'S LETTERS.

eloquent and weighty memorial in which he complained
that the office of advocate was sold, that even the interests
of clients were fraudulently sold, that corrupt engagements
were entered into in the matter of trials, and that large
and fixed incomes derived from the spoils of citizens had
replaced the pursuit of glory. He read out the titles of
certain laws, and appealed to the authority of decrees of
the Senate ; in conclusion he declared that our most ex-
cellent Prince ought to be requested, since the laws and the
decrees of the Senate were thus contemned, to take upon
himself to remedy these monstrous abuses. After a few
days, came a rescript from the Emperor, severe yet moderate
withal. You can read the original : it is in the Gazette.

How glad I am that in conducting my cases I have
always declined, not only compacts, presents, and fees,
but even trifling cadeaux. To be sure it is one's duty to
shun what is dishonourable, not as being unlawful, but as
being shameful ; yet at the same time it is pleasant to see
a thing publicly prohibited which one has never per-
mitted oneself. Probably, nay, certainly, the credit of
this resolve of mine will be smaller, its fame dimmer,
when every one will have to do from necessity what I
did of my own accord. Meanwhile, I enjoy real pleasure
when some of my friends jocosely call me "a diviner,"
others declare that " a check has been put on my plunder-
ing and avarice ! "

o

(140

To Pontius.

I was rusticating at Comum when it was announced to
me that Cornutus Tertullus was appointed Curator of the
Via -Emilia. It is impossible to express the pleasure
experienced by me, both on his and my account; on his
because, though he may be, as certainly he is, far removed
from every kind of ambition, yet an honour spontaneously
conferred must needs be agreeable to him; on mine,

BOOK V. 169

because the office entrusted to me gives me no inconsider-
able additional pleasure when I see a similar one bestowed
on Cornutus.* For, to be advanced in dignity is not more
grateful than to be put on a par with good men. And
where is there a better man than Cornutus ? Or a more
virtuous ? Or one more closely moulded to the pattern of
antiquity in every species of good repute ? All which
was known to me not from fame only — great and merited
of itself as is the fame which he enjoys — but from a long
and intimate experience of him. We love in unison, and
have loved in unison, almost all those of either sex whom
our epoch has produced as worthy of imitation ; a partner-
ship in friendships which has bound us together in the
closest intimacy. To this has been superadded the tie
of a public connection ; he was, as you know, my colleague
(as though accorded to my prayers) in the Prsefectureship
of the treasury, and also in the Consulship. Then it was
that I thoroughly ascertained what sort of man, and how
great a man he was, as I followed him in the capacity of
magistrate, and venerated him in that of a parent ; which
was what he deserved, not so much from maturity of years
as of character.

For these reasons, I congratulate myself as well as him,
and on public as much as on private grounds : since now
at last men's virtues advance them, not as formerly to
posts of danger, but to posts of honour. But my letter
would never end, if I were to indulge my joy. I must
rather turn to what I was doing here when the announce-
ment reached me. I was with my wife's grandfather, and
her aunt, with friends long desired ; I was going the round
of my farms, listening to a number of rustic complaints,
looking over accounts, against the grain, and superficially,
(for very different are the papers and the writings with
which I am conversant) I had, moreover, begun to make
preparations for returning to Eome, being bound by the
narrow limits of my leave of absence, and this very news

* Pliny was at this time a Commissioner of the Tiber.

170 PLINY'S LETTERS.

"whicli reaches my ears of the office conferred on Cornutus
reminds me of my own. I trust your Campania will be
sending you back about the same time, that, on my return
to town, no day may be lost to our friendly intercourse.

(15.)

To Arkius Antoninus.

It is on trying to imitate your verses, that I experience
most strongly how excellent they are. For just as painters
can seldom make a portrait of a lovely and exquisite face
that does not fall short of the original, so do I trip and
fall away from such an archetype. All the more then do
I exhort you to favour us with as many as possible of
these productions, such as all will be eager, and very
few, if any, will be able to imitate.

(i6.)

To Marcellinus.

I write this to you in great distress. The younger
daughter of our friend Fundanus is dead. She was a
young lady than whom I never saw a livelier or a more
lovable, or one more worthy not only of a longer life, but
wellnigh of immortality. She had not yet completed her
fourteenth year, and already she had the judgment of a
woman of advanced age, and the gravity of a matron, and
yet girlhood's sweetness, too, coupled with maidenly reserve.
How she was wont to hang on her father's neck ! How lov-
ingly and, at the same time, modestly she used to embrace
us, her father's friends ! How she cherished her nurses,
and governors, and tutors, according to their several offices !
How studiously and intelligently she read ! How sparing
and guarded she was in her recreations ! With what self-
restraint, what patience, aye, what intrepidity did she
bear her last illness ! She obeyed the doctors, encouraged
her sister and her father, and sustained herself, after her

BOOK V. 171

bodily strengtli had failed, by the force of her will. This
lasted her to the end, and was not shaken either by the
length of her illness or by the fear of death, so as to leave
us still more numerous and weighty grounds for our regret
and our sorrow. What an altogether sad and premature
decease ! And the time of her death was still more cruel
than death itself. For she was already betrothed to an
admirable young man ; already a day had been fixed upon
for the nuptials ; we, the guests, were already invited.
What joy turned to what mourning ! I cannot express in
words how my soul was wounded on hearing Fundanus
himself — in the way that grief is fruitful in discovering
assravations — ordering that the sum he had intended to
pay for dresses and pearls and jewellery should be laid
out on incense and unguents and perfumes. He to be sure
is a man of culture and philosophy, having devoted himself
from his earliest years to profound studies and sciences ; but
now he despises all the topics which he has so often listened
to and himself uttered, and, throwing to the winds the
other virtues, is engrossed in his paternal affection. You
will pardon, you will even praise him, if you think of
what he has lost. He has lost a daughter who resembled
him in character no less than in countenance and expres-
sion, who was a marvellously faithful copy of her father
in all respects. If, then, you should chance to be writing
to him on the subject of a sorrow so legitimate, mind and
give him some consolation, not in the chiding style, not
too heroic, but gentle and friendly. The lapse of time
which will have intervened will do much towards making
him receive this more readily ; for just as a wound, still
raw, shrinks from the hands of those who would treat it,
yet afterwards submits to and itself invites them, so a
mental sorrow, when fresh, rejects and flies from consola-
tions, yet presently it yearns for them, and is calmed by
their gentle application.

172 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(170
To Spurinna.

I know how eagerly you favour the polite arts, and how
great is your joy whenever young nobles do anything
worthy of their ancestors. So I make the more haste to
tell you that to-day I formed part of Calpurnius Piso's
audience. He recited his " Legends of the Stars," assur-
edly an erudite and brilliant theme. It was treated in
elegiacs, flowing and tender and smooth, elevated too M'hen
the occasion required ; for with much aptness and variety
the tone was at one time raised, and lowered at another.
He changed from the lofty to the subdued, from brevity
to copiousness, from gay to grave, always with the same
happy talent. And all this was enhanced by the sweetest
of voices, and the voice itself by his modesty. His face
was suffused with many a blush and much anxiety, great
charms in one who recites. In truth, I know not how it
is, but in literary pursuits timidity is more becoming to
men than assurance. However, no more : though I would
fain say more, and the rather that all this is so handsome
on the part of a young man, and so rare on that of a noble.

At the close of the recitation, after bestowing a long
and hearty embrace on the youth, I incited him by praises
— which are the strongest stimulus to encourasrement —
to go on as he had begun, so as to exhibit, for the guid-
ance of his descendants, the same bright light which his
ancestors had exhibited to him. I congratulated his ex-
cellent mother, and his brother as well, who obtained no
less credit from that audience for his fraternal affection
than the other son for his eloquence ; in such a marked way
did his apprehension, first of all, for his brother while in the
act of reciting, and presently his joy, reveal itself. The
gods grant that I may often have such news to tell you !
for the age in which we live has my best wishes that it be
not sterile and effete ; and I earnestly hope that our nobles

BOOK V. 173

may have something in their houses to be admired besides
those ancestral images which in the case of these youths
seem now to me to be silently applauding and exhorting
and — which is of sufficient account for the glory of both
— acknowledging them.

(18.)

To Calpuknius Macee.

'Tis well with me, because it is well with you. You
have the company of your wife and of your son ; you are
in the enjoyment of the sea, the fresh springs, verdure, the
country, and your delicious villa. How can I doubt that
it is delicious, since it was the resting-place of one who
was happier before he attained the summit of felicity. *
For my part I am engaged both in the chase and in lite-
rature, on my Tuscan property, sometimes alternately,
sometimes doing both together.-j- Nor can I yet pronounce
which is the more difficult — to catch something, or to write
something.

"©•

(19.)

To Paulinus.

Seeing how tenderly you govern your household, I shall
the more unreservedly confess to you the indulgence with
which I treat my own. There are always present to my
mind that Homeric expression —

" He was as a father mild,"

and that term of ours, " Paterfamilias." Yet, were my
nature harsher and rougher, it would be softened by the
ill-health of my freed-man Zosimus, to whom I am bound
to exhibit increased consideration, in that he at present
stands in greater need of it. He is an honest and oblig-

* Who this was is not known, ment than when he had attained

Sulla according to some, Nerva ac- what, to vulgar eyes, is the summit of

cording to others. In any case, some earthly felicity,

man had inhabited the villa, who f Cf. Book I., Letter 6.
(says PUny) was happier in his retire-

174 PLINY'S LETTERS.

ing man, and a lettered one ; indeed his art — and lie miglit
as it were be so ticketed * — is that of a comedian, and he
excels in it. For he delivers himself with spirit, and
judgment, appositely and indeed gracefully. He is more-
over a clever performer on the guitar, beyond what is
required of a comedian. Besides, he reads aloud ora-
tions and histories and poetry so well that you would
think he had learnt to do nothing else. I have explained
this to you carefully, that you might the better know what
numerous and what agreeable services he has, in his single
person, rendered me. To this must be added my affection
for the man, now of long standing and which his very
perils have augmented. For nature has so ordered it, that
nothing excites and inflames love so much as the fear of
bereavement, a fear which I suffer on his account, and not
for the first time. For, some years ago, while in the act
of delivering himself with effort and emphasis, he spat
blood, and in consequence of this having been sent by me
to Egypt, he returned lately restored to health, after his
long peregrination. Subsequently on putting too great a
strain on his voice, for some successive days, though
reminded by a slight cough of his old infirmity, he spat
blood afresh. For which reason I have decided to send
him to the estate which you possess at Forum Julii ; f hav-
ing often heard you say that the climate is salubrious and
also that there is milk there particularly suited for this
kind of cure. I would beg you therefore to write to your
people, that the establishment and the house may be open
to him ; also that they may contribute to his expenses, if he
wants anything ; he will, however, want but little, for he is
so economical and temperate that he restricts himself most
frugally not only in the matter of indulgences, but even
in things necessary for his health. I will give him at his
departure a sum sufficient to carry him to your place.

* An allusion to the ticket hung f Now^ "Frejus," in the South of
round the necks of slaves for sale, France,
giving their character and qualities.

BOOK V. 175

(20.)
To Ursus.

Once more the Bithynians ! A short time after the
affair of Julius Bassus,* they further impeached Eufus
Varenus formerly their pro-consul, Varenus whom they
had lately themselves applied for, as well as obtained, as
their advocate against Bassus. On being introduced into
the Senate, they demanded a commission of inquiry.
Varenus asked that he, as well as they, might be allowed
to compel the attendance of witnesses for the purposes of
his defence. The Bithynians demurring to this, the point
was debated. I pleaded for Varenus, and not without re-
sult, but whether well or ill my book f will show. For
in the case of speeches in court, fortune carries the day,
either way ; memory, voice, gesture, the particular occa-
sion, finally one's affection for, or else detestation of the
accused, these are things which greatly detract from, or
add to, the commendation they receive ; whereas a book
excites neither offence nor partiality, and is independent
of accidents whether fortunate or adverse.

Fonteius Magnus, one of the Bithynians, replied to me
with great abundance of words and much paucity of mat-
ter. In most of the Greeks, as in him, volubility takes
the place of copiousness : such long and dreary periods do
they pour forth at a breath just like a torrent. Hence
Julius Candidus says, rather neatly, that eloquence is one
thing and loquacity another.j For eloquence is the gift
of scarcely here and there one, nay, if we are to believe
M. Antonius, of no man ; but this which Candidus calls

* See Book VI. Letter 9. fying the English rendering. " I

t The book which he sends -with spoke for Varenus, and (I will just

this letter. The pamphlet containing say) not without result ; for, whether

his published speech, as we should well or ill, the book itself will indi-

term it. cate."

The original here is egi pro Vareno + Aliud esse eloquentiam, aliud lo-

non sine eventu : nam, bene an male qucntiam. The jingle of words can-

lihcr indicabit, where the force of not be rendered in English.
nam can only be expressed by ampli-

176 PLINY'S LETTERS.

loquacity is the special gift of many, and of the most
impudent rascals in particular.

Next day HomuUus made a clever, spirited, and well-
turned speech for Varenus, and Nigrinus replied to him
concisely, with force and elegance. Acilius Eufus, consul-
elect, moved that the commission of inquiry should be
accorded to the Bithynians, while he passed over the
application of Varenus in silence. This was a mode of
refusing it. Cornelius Prisons, of consular rank, was for
granting the request of accusers and accused, and he got
a majority. He carried a point which is neither provided
for by law nor particularly sanctioned by custom, but a
just one nevertheless. Why it is just, I shall refrain from
proving in a letter, in order that you may wish for the
speech. For if what Homer says be true, that

" Novel lays attract our ravislied ears,
But old the mind with inattention hears," *

I must have a care that the charm of novelty and the
bloom which are the principal attractions of that small
oration be not prematurely gathered by my letter.

(21.)

To Satukninus.

Your letter affected me in different ways, for its con-
tents were partly pleasant and partly sad. What was
pleasant was the announcement that you are kept in
town. " I don't wish to be," say you ; but / wish it :
moreover, the promise that you would have a reading
immediately on my arrival. Thank you for waiting for
me. The sad part was about Julius Valens lying danger-
ously ill ; though even this is hardly so, if it be judged
from the point of his own advantage, since it is his interest
to be freed as soon as possible from an incurable malady.
What, however, was certainly not only sad but actually

* Odyssey i. 446, Pope's version.

BOOK V. 177

distressing was the news that Julius Avitus has died
while returning from his Quaestorship — died on board
ship, far from his loving brother, far from his mother and
sisters ! These are circumstances which do not matter to
him now he is dead, but they did matter to him when
dying, and they do matter to those who remain. This
alone is distressing that a young man should have been
cut off in the first bloom of such a character as his, a man
who would have attained the highest eminence, if his
virtues had had time to mature. How ardent was his
love for literature ! How much he read and even wrote !
And all this has now perished, together with himself, with-
out any fruit in the shape of posthumous fame.* But
why indulge in grief, to which everything furnishes the
richest material, if you once abandon the reins to it ? I
must make an end of my letter, so as to make an end at
the same time of the tears which the letter has called
forth.

* Fosteritas, here " fame with posterity," as in Book II. i.

M

( 178 )

BOOK VI.

To TiEO.

So long as I was on the other side of the Po, and you
were in the district of Picenum, I missed you less ; since
I am in town, while you are still in Picenum, I miss you
a great deal more ; whether it is that the very spots where
we are accustomed to be together bring you more keenly
to my remembrance ; or else that nothing sharpens one's
longing after absent friends so much as vicinity to them,
and so, the nearer you come to the hope of enjoying their
society, the more impatient are you at being deprived of
it. Whatever be the cause, deliver mp from this misery.
Come to me, or else I shall return to the place whence I
rashly hurried, if only for this purpose, in order to learn
by experience whether you, when you first find yourself
in Eome without me, will write me such a letter as
this.

(2.)

To Arkianus.

It happens to me not unfrequently, in our law courts,
to miss M. Ptcgulus : I would not say, to regret him.
Why, then, to miss him ? Because he held our profession
in honour, and used to b3 solicitous, and wan with study,
and to write out his speeches, though he never could
learn them by heart. The very fact that he used to
paint round, sometimes his right, sometimes his left eye,

BOOK VL 179

the right one if he was going to speak for a plaintiff, and
the left if for a defendant; that he used to transfer a
white plaster from one eyebrow to another; that he
always consulted * the soothsayers on the result of his
pleadings : all this originated, it is true, in excessive
superstition, and yet at the same time in a great regard
for the profession. This, to begin with, was particularly
pleasant to those who were engaged in the same causes,
that he always asked for unlimited time, and got together
an audience by invitation ; for what can be more pleasant
than to speak as long as you like, while the annoyance is
laid to another's charge, and to speak at your ease, yet
with an appearance of being surprised by an audience
which others have got together. But, however all this
may be, Kegulus did well to die, and he would have done
better if he had died sooner. ]SI"ow, certainly, he might
have lived without injury to the public, under a Prince
in whose reign he could have done no mischief. So it is
allowable to miss him sometimes. For since his death a
custom has extensively and increasingly prevailed of
demanding, as well as allotting, two water-clocks per
speaker^ or even ouej sometimes as little as half a one;
since the bar want to have done with their speeches
rather than to speak, and the bench to have finished their
business rather than to judge. Such is the negligence,
the apathy, and in short the irreverence, with which our
profession and its perils are regarded. Pray, are we wiser
than our ancestors ? Are we more just than the laws
themselves, which freely accord so many hours, so many
days, so many adjournments ? Were those ancestors of
ours dullards and beyond measure slow, and do we speak
more clearly, understand more rapidly, and decide more
conscientiously, because we hurry through our causes with
a smaller number of water-clocks than they used to take
days to settle them in? 0 Piegulus, you used to obtain from
all the judges by your artifices that which extremely few of
them accord to integrity ! I at all events, whenever I sit

i8o PLINY'S LETTERS.

as judge (which is my place even more often than at the
bar), allow as much water as any one asks for ; inasmuch
as I deem it an act of temerity to predict the length of a
cause still unheard, and to place a limit of time on a
matter whose proportions are unknown, particularly since
the first thing which a judge owes to the faithful discharge
of his duty is patience, which indeed is a large ingredient
in justice. But a good deal that is superfluous is spoken !
Be it so : yet it is better that even this should be spoken,
than that what is essential should be unspoken. Besides
you cannot possibly know whether it is superfluous or
not, till you have heard what it is. However it will be
better to talk of this, and of many other public abuses, when
we meet. For you too, with your regard for the common
interests, are in general desirous that matters which it
would now be difficult to set straight may be at any rate
amended.

Now, let us cast a glance at our households. Pray, is
all well in yours ? In mine, there is nothing new ; and
for me, the blessings I enjoy are rendered more grateful
by their continuance, while incommodities are lightened
by habit.

(3.)

To Verus.

I thank you for undertaking the cultivation of the
farm given by me to my nurse. It was worth a hundred
thousand sesterces* when I gave it her. Subsequently,
the returns diminishing, its value fell with them ; but now
under your management it will recover itself. Only
please to bear in mind that I am entrusting to you not
trees and soil merely — though I do entrust these as well —
but my small iwcscnt. And that this should be as pro-
ductive as possible is not of greater interest to her who
received than to me who bestowed it.

* About £800.

BOOK VL i8r

(401
To CULPURNIA, HIS WiFE.

I never complained more than now of my occupations,
which did not suffer me either to accompany you when
you started for Campania for your health's sake, or to
follow close after your departure. Tor at this time par-
ticularly I desired to be with you, in order to judge with
my own eyes how far you are recruiting your strength
and your dear little body, and, in short, whether you have
passed through that delightful retreat and rich country
without receiving any hurt. Indeed, if you were quite
strong, my longing after you would not be unmingled
with anxiety : for to be sometimes without news of an
ardently beloved object is fraught with suspense and un-
easiness. Now, however, the consideration of your delicate
health, as well as your absence, torments me with vague
disquietudes of various kinds, I apprehend everything,
conjure up everything, and, as the nature of frightened
people is, the things which of all others I deprecate are pre-
cisely those which I picture to myself. Wherefore, I the
more urgently beseech you to have regard for my fears by
writing me one, or even two letters a day. For I shall be
more comfortable while reading them, and shall straight-
way fall to fear again, as soon as they are read.

(5.)
To Uesus.

I wrote you word that Varenus had obtained leave to
compel the attendance of witnesses on his behalf ; * which
seemed to most to be fair, though some were obstinate in
thinking it unjust, particularly Licinius Nepos, who, at
the next meeting of the Senate, when other matters were
before it, discussed the recent decree, thus reopening a

* To subpoena them, as we say. See Book V., Letter 20.

l82 PLINY'S LETTERS.

cause which had been disposed of. He went so far as to
add that the Consuls should be asked to submit a motion
(after the precedent of the Bribery Laws) on the subject
of that against extortion. " Was it their pleasure that,
for the future, an addition should be made to that law to
the effect that, as the law in question gave power to
accusers to collect materials and to enforce the attendance
of witnesses, so a similar power should be given to the
accused ? " There were some who were displeased by
this speech of his, as coming too late, out of season, and
in the wrong place ; inasmuch as the proper time for
speaking against the decree had been neglected, and now
fault was found with that which had been settled and which
might have been opposed. Indeed Juventius Celsus, the
Prffitor, reproved him at length and with vigour for setting
himself up as a corrector of the Senate, ISTepos replied,
and Celsus retorted ; and neither of them refrained from
insults. I don't choose to record words which I was vexed
to hear tlicm utter, so as to make me all the more in-
dignant at some of our order, who were running backwards
and forwards from Celsus to Nepos, according as one or
the other was speaking, from curiosity to hear ; and who
by way of egging them on and inflaming them at one
time, of reconciling and making it up between them at
another, invoked " the approval of Csesar," generally on
behalf of each singly, but at times in favour of both, as
at some spectacle for the public amusement ! What to
my mind was a most painful feature in all this, was that
each had got information of what the other was preparing
for him ; for Celsus replied to Nepos from a written
paper, and Nepos to Celsus from his note-book. Such
was the loquacity of their friends that these men, on the
point of wrangling, had a mutual knowledge of the event,
just as though it had been arranged between them.

BOOK VL 183

(6.)
To FUNDANUS.

Now, if ever, I could wish you were iu Eome, and I beg
that you will be. I have need of one to share my aspira-
tions, my labours, my anxiety. Julius Naso is a candi-
date for office ; he is standing with many competitors and
good ones too, whom it will be glorious to beat and cor-
respondingly difficult. So I am in a state of suspense, and
am exercised by hope as well as troubled by fear, no longer
feeling; like one who has himself served the office of Consul ;
but once more imagining myself a candidate for each of
the posts successively filled by me.

He merits this anxiety by his long affection for me.
My friendship for him is not, to be sure, derived from any
I had for his father — for in consequence of my age that
could not be — however, when I was barely a stripling, his
father used to be held out to me as a man of great reputa-
tion. He was deeply attached, not to learning only, but
also to learned men, and was in the habit of coming
almost daily to hear those whom I frequented at
that time, Quintilian and Nicetes Sacerdos. He was in
other respects a distinguished and authoritative personage,
whose memory ought to be of service to his son. But
now there are many in the Senate to whom he was un-
known, and though there are many to whom he was known,
yet these honour none but the living ; so that my friend,
putting aside the glory of his father — which, though a
great illustration, is but a feeble recommendation to him
— must all the more vigorously exert himself and go to
work in person. And this to be sure he has always care-
fully done, as if foreseeing the present occasion. He has
procured friends for himself, and those whom he has pro-
cured he has cultivated ; we, certainly, as soon as he per-
mitted himself to form a judgment, he selected as the
object of his affection and imitation. He stands watchful

1 84 PLINY'S LETTERS.

by me when speaking in public ; he sits by me when I
recite ; he interests himself in my literary trifles from
their very inception and from the moment of their birth ;
alone now, formerly in company with his brother, whose
part (for he is lately dead) I ought to undertake, whose
place I ought to fill. I grieve indeed that the one should
have been so cruelly torn from us by a premature death,
and the other deprived of his brother's assistance and left
to the help of his friends alone.

For these reasons I implore you to come and join your
suffrages to mine.* It is of great importance to me to be
able to produce you and go about with you. The weight
you carry is so great as to make me think I could canvass
even my own friends more successfully in your company.
Break short anything that detains you. My critical
situation, my honour, my dignity even, demand this of
you. I have taken in hand a candidate, and it is known
that I have taken him in hand. The canvass is mine, the
danger is mine. In short, if Naso gets what he asks, his
will be the honour ; if he fails, the defeat will be mine.

To Calpurnia, his Wife.

You write that you are not a little affected by my
absence, and that you have but one solace — in possess-
ing my books instead of me, and even in often laying
them beside you in bed, in my place. I am glad that you
miss me, glad that you are soothed by such lenitives as
these. In return, I keep reading your letters, and ever
and anon take them into my hands as if they were just
received, yet all the more am I inflamed with a longing
for you. For when your letters are so agreeable, what
must be the charm of your conversation ! However, do

* Suffragio meo tuum jungas, join backers — 'nominators,' as we should
me as a sujj'ragator, "as one of the say— of my friend."

BOOK VI. 185

yoTi write as often as you can, though your doing so de-
lights me in such a way as to torment me at the same
time.

(8.)
To Peiscus.

You both know and have a regard for Atilius Crescens.
Indeed, what man of any mark either does not know him
or has not a regard for him ? He is one whom I cherish,
not after the vulgar fashion, but with my whole heart.
Our native towns are separated by one day's journey only.
Our love for each other began — and this is the most
fervent kind of love — when we were mere striplings. It
endured to after years, and far from being cooled, was
strengthened by our mature judgment. Those who are
most intimately acquainted with either of us know this.
For, not only does he widely proclaim and circulate his
friendship for me, but I too make no secret of the interest
I feel in his modest life, his repose, and his security.
Moreover, when he apprehended the insolence of a cer-
tain individual who was about to enter on the Tribuneship
of the Plebs, and had informed me of the fact, I replied,
" Not during my lifetime ! " *

Why do I tell you aU this ? That you may know that
Atilius shall not suffer an injury while I am in existence.
Again you will say, " Why all this ? " Why, because
Valerius Varus owed him a sum of money. Now the heir
of this Varus is our friend Maximus, whom I myself have
a great regard for, but you a still closer one. I pray you
then, and indeed demand of you by right of our friendship,
to see that my good Atilius has not only the principal but
also several years' interest secured to him. He is a man
most scrupulous as to encroaching on other people's pro-

* An allusion to Homer, Iliad i. 88, light of the world, shall lay a heavy
where Achilles says to Calchas, ' ' No hand on you by the hollow ships ! "
one, so long as I am aUve and in the

1 86 PLINY'S LETTERS.

perty, and careful of his own ; he does not live by any
business, and has no income but what results from his
economy. For, the literary pursuits, in which he so greatly
excels, he follows only for his own pleasure and glory.
The smallest loss is a hard matter for him, it being so
very hard to make good what is lost. Relieve him and
relieve me from this difficulty : suffer me to enjoy to the
full his amiable and sprightly character; for indeed I
can't bear to see one sad whose cheerfulness will not
allow me to be sad. In short, you know the quaint
humour of the man, and I pray you take care that in-
justice does not turn it to bile and bitterness. What will
be the strength of his resentment you may judge by that
of his affection. His lofty and independent spirit will not
brook a loss accompanied by an affront. And though he
should brook it, I shall esteem the loss and the affront my
own ; only I shall be much more indignant than if it were
my own. However, why employ denunciations and what
may seem threats ? Eather, as I began, so I beg and pray
you to see to it that he does not think himself neglected
by me (which I most strongly fear), or I think the same
of you. And you will see to it, if the latter consideration
weighs as much with you as the former does with me.

(9.)

To Tacitus.

You commend Julius Naso to my favour as a candidate.
Naso to me I What if you commended my own self !
However, I bear with it and forgive you. For I should
have commended this very Naso to you, if you had been
staying in Rome and I had been absent. There is this
about anxiety that it will leave no stone unturned. How-
ever, I vote that you canvass other people ; / will act as
agent, assistant, and partner in your applications.

BOOK VI. 187

(10.)

To Albinus.

On my arrival at my mother-in-law's house near Alsium,
which was once the property of Eufus Verginius,* the
sight of the place itself painfully renewed my regrets for
that admirable and illustrious man. For this was the
retreat where he commonly resided, calling it indeed " the
dear little nest of his old age." Turn where I would, my
soul, my eyes, looked for him. I was desirous of seeing
his monument as well, and repented having seen it. For
it is still unfinished ; nor is this owing to any difficulty in
the undertaking (which is of moderate, or rather small,
dimensions), but to the apathy of the person on whom the
duty was enjoined. A sense of indignation mingled with
pity steals over me to think that ten years after his death
there should be lying without an epitaph, without a name
over them, the ashes of one the glory of whose memory
pervades the world. Yet he bad enjoined and provided
that that divine and immortal exploit of his should be
inscribed in verse.

" Here Eufus lies, who Vindex overcame,
Not for his own, but for his country's fame."

So rare is fidelity in friendship, so easy is it to forget the
dead, that we ought to raise for ourselves even our own
sepulchres and to anticipate all the duties of our heirs.
For who has not cause to fear what we see to have hap-
pened in the case of Verginius ? Only in his case his
celebrity makes the wrong done him, as it is the more
undeserved, so also the more widely known.

(II.)
To Maximus.
0 joyful day ! Summoned to assist the Prsefect of the

* See Book II., Letter i.

l88 PL/NV'S LETTERS.

city, I have heard two young men of the greatest pro-
mise and the highest qualities pleading against each other,
Fuscus Salinator and Ummidius Quadratus, an admirable
pair, destined to be ornaments not only of our age, but of
learninGj itself. Both of them exhibited remarkable mo-
desty, yet with resolution unimpaired. Their deportment
was noble, their language pure Latin, their voices manly,
their memories tenacious, and their great natural faculties
were equalled by their judgment. Each of these things
singly was a pleasure, and, together with them this, that the
young men directed their glances at me as their guide and
teacher, and seemed to those who heard them to be imi-
tating me and treading in my footsteps. 0 day (for I
must repeat it) most joyful, and to be marked by me with
the whitest of stones ! What, indeed, can be more joyful,
in a public point of view, than that young men of the
highest rank should be seeking a name and fame from
intellectual pursuits ; or more desirable for me personally
than that I should be set up as a kind of model to such as
have noble aims ? I pray the gods to make me the con-
stant recipient of such delight as this ; and I beg of these
same gods (taking you to witness) that all those who shall
think it worth their while to imitate me may desire to be
better than me.

(12.)

To Fabatus, his Wife's Grandfather.

You, assuredly, ought not to hold your hand in recom-
mending to me those persons whom you think worthy of
support. For, not only is it becoming in you to render
services to many, but it becomes me also to undertake
whatever pertains to your wishes. Consequently I will
do all in my power for Vettius Priscus, particularly in my
own arena — that is, in the Centumviral Court. You bid
me forget those letters which you wrote me, as you term
it, with your heart laid open. But there are no letters

BOOK VI. 189

which I more desire to bear in mind. For by these I am
particularly made sensible of the strength of your affec-
tion for me, since you dealt with me as you were used to
deal with your own son. Nor can I conceal from you
that they were rendered all the more agreeable to me by
the fact that I had a good case, since I liad attended with
the greatest diligence to what you wished attended to.
Accordingly I entreat you, again and again, always to con-
vey your reproaches to me in the same straightforward
way as often as I shall seem to fall short (I say " seem,"
for I never shall really fall short), since / shall understand
that they proceed from the strength of your affection, and
you will rejoice to find that I do not deserve them.

(I3-)
To Ursus.

Have you ever seen any one so troubled and exercised
as my friend Varenus ? He has had to defend, and as it
were make fresh application for, that which he had ob-
tained only after a great struggle.* The Bithynians were
impudent enough to criticise the decree of the Senate,
and even to try and invalidate it, before the Consuls, and
actually to incriminate it to the Emperor, who was
absent from Eome. On being referred back to the Senate
by him, they did not desist from their efforts. Claudius
Capito spoke for them, disrespectfully rather than firmly,
since he impeached a decree of the Senate in presence of
the Senate, Catius Fronto replied with dignity and
resolution. The Senate itself was admirable. For even
those who had previously been for refusing the applica-
tion of Varenus were of opinion that, having once been
allowed, it should still be allowed, on the ground that
though it was permissible for individuals to differ when a
matter was undecided, yet when it was fairly settled the

"ision of the majority should be unanimously upheld.
* See Letter 5 of this Book, and Book V. , Letter 20.

igo PLINY'S LETTERS.

Only Acilius Eufus and, with him, some seven or eight —
seven rather — persisted in their former opinion. In this
small number there were some whose temporary fit of
severity, or rather affectation of severity, furnished much
amusement. You will, however, be able to judge what a
struggle awaits us in the fight itself, when the preludes
to it and the preliminary skirmishes, so to speak, have
aroused such contests.

(I4-)

To Maueicus.

You invite me to your place near Formiae. I will ac-
cept on one condition, that you do not put yourself out in
any way ; an arrangement by which I bargain for myself
as well. For it is not the sea and the seaside that J am
going after, but my own ease, and liberty, and you ; other-
wise it would be preferable to remain in town. It is best
that one's actions should be entirely dependent on the will
of others, or else on one's own : the nature of my taste is
certainly such that it will have nothing but what is com-
plete in itself and free from admixture.*

(I5-)

To EOMANUS.

You were not present at a very curious occurrence, nor
was I either ; but the story reached me soon after the event.
Passennus Paulus, a distinguished Eoman knight, and
among the first for learning, writes elegiac verse. This runs
in his family ; he is a townsman of Propertius, and even
numbers Propertius among his ancestors. As this Paulus
was reciting, he commenced with these words —

"Priscus, thou bids't me."
Upon which Javolenus Prisons (who was present in his

* He means — I would rather re- I like. One thing or the other : con-
main in Rome, entirely devoted to stant occupation or perfect freedom,
business, than go into the country, I can't stand a mixture,
unless I can do there entirely what

BOOK VI. 191

character of a particular friend of Paulus) cried out, " /
don't bid you, however." You may imagine how the people
laughed and jested. To be sure, Priscus is of doubtful
sanity, yet he takes part in ceremonial occasions, sits as
assessor to the magistrates, and even gives legal opinions
publicly, v/hich makes this action of his all the more
ridiculous and remarkable. Meanwhile Paulus, through
another's folly, found his audience somewhat chilled.
Such particular care should people take beforehand, when
they are going to recite, not only to be sane themselves,
but also to invite none but sane hearers.

(16.)
To Tacitus.

You ask me to write you an account of my uncle's
end, in order that you may be able the more faithfully to
transmit it to posterity. I thank you, as I see that his
death, if commemorated by you, has an imperishable re-
nown offered it. For thouf^h he fell amid the destruction
of such fair regions, and seems destined to live for ever —
like so many peoples and cities — through the memorable
character of the disaster; though he himself was the author
of many and enduring works ; yet the immortality of your
writings will add greatly to the uninterrupted continuance
of his fame. For my part I deem those blessed to whom, by
favour of the gods, it has been granted either to do what is
worth writing of, or to write what is worth reading ; above
measure blessed those on whom both gifts have been con-
ferred. In the latter number will be my uncle, by virtue
of his own and of your compositions. Hence, I the more
readily undertake, and even lay claim to peform what
you request.

He was at Misenum, in personal command of the fleet.
The ninth day before the Kalends of September, at about
the seventh hour, my mother indicated to him the appear-
ance of a cloud of unusual size and shape. He had sunned

192 PLINY'S LETTERS.

himself, and next gone into his cold bath ; and after a light
meal, which he took reposing, was engaged in study. He
called for his sandals, and ascended to a spot from which
this portent could best be seen. A cloud was rising — from
what mountain was a matter of uncertainty to those who
looked at it from a distance : afterwards it was known to
be Vesuvius — whose appearance and form would be re-
presented by a pine better than any other tree. For, after
towering upwards to a great height with an extremely
lofty stem, so to speak, it spread out into a number of
branches; because, as I imagine, having been lifted up
"by a recent breeze, and having lost the support of this as it
grew feebler, or merely in consequence of yielding to its
own weight, it was passing away laterally. It was at one
time white, at another dingy and spotted, according as it
carried earth or ashes. To a man of my uncle's attain-
ments, it seemed a remarkable phenomenon, and one to be
observed from a nearer point of view. He ordered his
fast-sailing cutter to be got ready, and, in case I wished
to accompany him, gave me leave to do so. I replied that
I preferred to go on with my studies, and it so happened
that he had himself given me something to write out.

He was in the act of leavincj the house, when a note was
handed him from Rectina.* Coesius Bassus, frightened,
together with the people there,* at the imminence of the
peril (for his villa lay under the mountain, and there was
no escape for him except by taking ship), begged my uncle
to rescue him from so critical a situation. Upon this he
changed his plan, and, having started on his enterprise as
a student, proceeded to carry it out in the spirit of a hero.
He launched his four-ranked galleys, and embarked in
person, in order to carry assistance, not to Rectina only,
but to many others, for the charms of the coast caused it
to be much peopled. He hastened in the direction whence

* Apparently a place between Por- inniinenti periculo extcJTitae. If tliis

tici and Herculaneum. There are be correct, Rectina will be the name

various readings here. Keil prints of a woman, the wife of Tascus,
accijpit codicillos Bectinm + Tasci

BOOK VI. 193

every one else was flying, holding a direct course, and
keeping his helm set straight for the peril, so free from
fear that he dictated and caused to be noted down, as fast
as he seized them with his eyes, all the shiftings and
shapes of the dreadful prodigy. Ashes were already fall-
ing on the ships, hotter and thicker the nearer they ap-
proached ; and even pumice and other stones, black, and
scorched, and cracked by the fire. There had been a
sudden retreat of the sea, and the debris from the moun-
tain made the shore unapproachable. Having hesitated
for a moment whether to turn back, he shortly called out
to the helmsman (who was urging him to do so), " Fortune
favours the brave ! Make in the direction of Pomponianus."
The latter was at Stabise, separated from him by the whole
width of the bay, for the sea flows in by shores gradually
winding and curving inwards. There, in view of the
danger which, though it had not yet approached, was
nevertheless manifest, and must be upon them as soon as
it extended itself, he had got his effects together on board
ship, resolved to fly,* if only the wind left off blowing
from the opposite quarter. My uncle, brought to shore by
this same wind, which precisely favoured him, embraced
his trembling friend, consoling and exhorting him, and,
in order to calm his fears by his own sang froid, bade
them conduct him to the bath. After bathing, he took
his place at table, and dined gaily, or (which was equally
heroic) with an air of gaiety.

Meanwhile, from many points of Mount Vesuvius, vast
sheets of flame and tall columns of fire were blazing, the
flashes and brightness of which were heightened by the
darkness of night. My uncle, to soothe the terrors of
those about him, kept telling them that these were fires
which the frightened country people had left to burn, and
that the deserted houses were blazing away all by them-

* Certus fugae. CMws is very com- escape." In ix. 3, certas j^osteritatis
mon in this sense; but the meaning undoubtedly means "sure of posthu-
here might very well be "sure of mous fame."

194 PLINY'S LETTERS.

selves. Then he gave himself up to repose, and slept a
perfectly genuine sleep, for his snoring (which in conse-
quence of his full habit was heavy and loud) was heard by
those in attendance about his door.

However, the courtyard from which this suite of rooms
was approached was already so full of ashes mixed with
pumice-stones that its surface was rising, and a longer
stay in the bedchamber would have cut off all egress.
On being aroused, he came forth and rejoined Pom-
ponianus and the others who had kept watching. They
consulted tosjether whether to remain under cover or
wander about in the open; for the walls nodded under
the repeated and tremendous shocks, and seemed, as
though dislodged from their foundations, to be swaying to
and fro, first in one direction and then in another. On
the other hand, in the open air, there was the fall of the
pumice-stones (though they were light and burnt out)
to be apprehended. However, a comparison of dangers
led to the choice of the latter course. With my uncle
indeed it was a case of one reason getting the better
of another; while in the case of others fear overcame
fear. They covered their heads with pillows tied round
with cloths : this was their way of protecting themselves
against the shower. By this time it was day else-
where, but there it was night, the blackest and thickest
of all nights, which, however, numerous torches and
lights of various kinds served to alleviate. It was
decided to make for the shore, in order to learn from
the nearest point whether the sea was by this time at
all available. A huge and angry sea still continued
running. Here, reclining on a cloth which had been
thrown on the ground, my imcle more than once called
for a draught of cold water and swallowed it. Upon this,
an outbreak of flame and smell of sulphur, premonitory
of farther flames, put some to flight and roused him.
With the help of two slave-boys he rose from the ground,
x^uipii^cJcHiniediately fell back, owing (as I gather) to the

BOOK VI. 195

dense vapour obstructing his breath and stopping up the
access to his gullet, which with him was weak and narrow
and frequently subject to wind. When day returned
(the third from that which he had looked upon for the
last time *) his body was found whole and uninjured, in
the dress he wore ; its appearance was that of one asleep
rather than dead.

Meanwhile my mother and I at Misenum — however,
this has nothing to do with history, nor did you wish to
learn anything except what related to his death. So I
will make an end. This alone I will add, that everv-
thing related by me has been either matter of personal
observation or else what I heard on the spot, the time of
all others when the truth is told. Do you select what
you choose. For a letter is a different matter from a
history ; it is one thing to write to a friend and another
to write for the world.

^'

(17.)
To Eestitutus.

I can't refrain from letting off by letter to you — since
it is not my good luck to be able to do it in your presence
— the touch of indignation experienced by me at a recita-
tion held by a certain friend of mine. A production of
a most finished kind was being read ; and this, two or
three of the company (learned persons, as they seemed to
themselves and a few others) listened to, with the appear-
ance of deaf and dumb people. They never parted their
lips, they never moved a hand, they never rose from their
seats, if it had been only from the fatigue of remaining
seated. "Whence all this solemnity and wisdom? Nay
rather what duluess, arrogance, perversity, or more
properly madness, to employ a whole day with the

* His body was found next morn- ness, Pliny is able to express bimself,
ing : but counting" the day of his death as in the text, in the Eoman idiom.
as no day at all, owing to the dark-

196 PLINY'S LETTERS.

special object of offending and leaving as an enemy the
man to whose house you have come as to a special friend !
Are you a more learned man than he? So much the
less room for envy, for he who is envious shows his in-
feriority. In short, whether you are worth more than
him, or less than him, or the same as he is, praise him in
his capacity of inferior, or superior, or equal; if your
superior, because, unless he is worthy of praise, you your-
self cannot be ; if your inferior or equal, because it con-
cerns your own reputation that the man whom you excel,
or even are on a par with, should appear as great as
possible. For my part I actually revere and admire all
those who accomplish anything in literature. For it is a
difficult, arduous, and fastidious pursuit, one which in its
turn spurns those who spurn it: unless by chance you
entertain a different opinion. And yet what individual
has a greater respect for the pursuit than you, or where
can there be a kindlier critic ? And this is the considera-
tion which has led me to inform you in particular of my
indignation, as being the person most sure to share my
feelings.

(i8.)

To Sabinus.

You ask me to appear for the Firmani, in their State
trial; and, though busied with numerous occupations, I
will do my best for them. I desire indeed to lay under
an obligation not only a most distinguished colony, by
undertaking the office of their advocate, but also you
yourself by a service which is so agreeable to you. For
since, as you are in the habit of proclaiming, the friendship
which exists between us is looked upon by you in the
light of an advantage and a glory, there is nothing which
I ought to deny you, particularly when you ask on behalf
of your birth-place. What indeed can be more honourable
than prayers prompted by duty, or more efficacious than

*

BOOK VL

197

those which spring from affection ? Accordingly, plight
my troth to your, or rather now to our, friends, the Firmani.
Not only does their own distinction give promise that
they are worthy of my efforts and zeal, but also especially
this consideration, that those are likely to be men of great
worth among whom such a one as you has arisen.

(19.)
To ISTepos.

Are you aware that the price of land has risen, and
particularly of land near Eome ? The cause of this
sudden dearness is a matter which has been the subject
of much discussion. At the last Comitia the Senate gave
expression to an opinion which did it great honour : " that
candidates should not give banquets, nor send presents, nor
lodge money for the purpose of bribery," of which practices
the two former were carried on as openly as they were
unstintedly, and the third, though done privately, was
perfectly ascertained. Upon which my friend Homullus
carefully availing himself of this consensus of the Senate
when called on to vote, proposed a resolution that the
Consuls should make known the universal wish to the
Emperor, and should beg him, as he had done in the case
of other abuses, to employ his sagacity in counteracting
this one. He is counteracting it : by a bribery law he
has restrained the former shameful and discreditable ex-
penditure on the part of candidates : and he has ordered
them to invest a third part of their fortunes in real estate,
deeming it disgraceful, as indeed it was, that those who
sought honours should look upon Eome and Italy, not as
their country, but as a kind of inn or hostelry, like so
many people on their travels. There is consequently a
rush of candidates ; they are bidding against each other
for the purchase of whatever they hear is for sale, and in
this way are the means of bringing fresh properties into
the market. Accordingly, if you are tired of your farms

198 PLINY'S LETTERS.

iu Italy, this is the time for selling, as also, by Hercules,
for buying in the provinces,* since these same candidates
are selling there in order to buy here.

(20.)

To Tacitus.

You say that the letter I wrote you, at your request,
on the subject of my uncle's death has made you wish to
know what I myself, when left behind at Misenum — for
with the mention of this I broke off — had to go through,
not merely in the way of alarms, but of actual adventures.

" Thougli memory shuns the theme, I will begin." f

After the departure of my uncle, I devoted what time
was left to study (it was for that purpose that I remained
behind) ; the bath shortly followed, then dinner, then a
short and troubled sleep. There had been heavings of the
earth for many days before this, but they produced the
less apprehension from being customary in Campania. On
that night, however, they so much increased that every-
thing seemed not so much to be in motion as to be turned
upside down. My mother rushed into my room; I was
similarly getting up with the intention of arousing her
in case she were asleep. We sat down in a courtyard
attached to the house, which separated by a small space
the dwelling from the sea, I do not know whether to
style it intrepidity or imprudence on my part, seeing that
I was only in my eighteenth year ; however, I called for a
volume of Livy, and read it as though quite at my ease, and
even made extracts from it, as I had begun to do. Upon
this, a friend of my uncle's, who had lately come to him
from Spain, when he saw my mother and me seated, and
me reading into the bargain, reproved her for her apathy
and me for my insensibility to danger. None the less

* In provinciis, in the Roman sense + The original is a quotation from
as distinguished from Italy. J<)ueid ii. 12.

accipii.

BOOK VI. 197

diligently did I devote myself to my book. It was now
seven o'clock in the morning, yet still there was but a
kind of sickly and doubtful light ; now, too, that the sur-
rounding buildings had been shaken, as the place in which
we were, though not under cover, was of small dimensions,
there was a great and unavoidable risk of our being over-
whelmed. Then, at last, Ave decided on leaving the town.
The mass of the inhabitants followed us terror-stricken,
and (an effect of panic causing it to resemble prudence)
preferring the guidance of others to their own, they pressed
on us as we were making off, and impelled us forwards
with their crowded ranks. When we had got beyond the
buildings we stopped. There we experienced much that
was strange, and many terrors. For the vehicles which we
had ordered to be brought out, though standing on a per-
fectly level plain, were rocking from one side to the other,
and would not remain still in the same place even when
propped under with stones. Moreover, we saw the sea
sucked back into itself, and repulsed as it were by the
quaking of the earth. The shore had certainly encroached
on the sea, and retained a number of marine animals on
its dry sands. On the other side of us a black and terrible
cloud, broken, by the zig-zag and tremulous careerings of
the fiery element, A^as parting asunder in long trains of
flame : these were like lightning, but on a larger scale.
Then, indeed, the above-mentioned friend from Spain be-
came more urgent and pressing. " If," said he, " your
brother and your uncle is alive, it is his wish that you
should be in safety ; if he has perished, it xcas his wish
that you should survive him. Why then hesitate to
escape ? " We replied that we could not so act as, while
uncertain of his safety, to provide for our own. Without
further delay he rushed off, and got out of reach of danger
as fast as he could.

Not long after, the cloud in question descended on the
earth and covered the sea. Already it had enveloped and
hidden from view Caprese, and blotted out the promontory

joo PLINY'S LETTERS.

of Misenum. Upon this my mother begged and prayed
and even ordered me to make my escape as best I could,
it being in my power as a young man to do so ; as for
lierself, retarded by her years and her frame, she was well
content to die provided she had not been the cause of my
death. I, on the other hand, declared that I would not
be saved except in her company, and clasping her hand
I compelled her to quicken her pace. She obeyed with
reluctance, blaming herself for delaying me. And now
came a shower of ashes, though as yet but a thin one. I
looked back : a dense mist was closing in behind us, and
following us like a torrent as it streamed along the
ground. " Let us turn aside," said I, " while we can still
see, lest we be thrown down in the road and trampled
upon in the darkness by the crowd which accompanies
us." "We had scarcely sat down when night came on, not
such as it is when there is no moon, or when there are
clouds, but the night of a closed place with the lights put
out. One could hear the shrieks of the women, the cries
for help of the children, the shouts of the men : some
were calling for their parents, others for their young ones,
others for their partners and recognising them by their
voices. Some were lamenting their own case, others that
of those dear to them. There were those who, through
fear of death, invoked death. Many raised their hands to
the gods, but the greater number concluded that there
were no longer gods anywhere, and that the last eternal
night of story had settled on the world. Nor were there
wanting those who by imaginary and false alarms increased
the real dangers. Some present announced that such and
such a part of Misenum had been overthrown, or such
another was in flames ; falsely, yet to believing ears.
There was a little light again, but this seemed to us not
so much day-light as a sign of approaching fire. Accord-
ingly there was fire, but it stayed at a considerable distance
from us, then darkness again and a thick and heavy
.shower of ashes. We got up from time to time and shook

BOOK VI. 201

these off us ; otherwise we should have been covered with
them and even crushed by their weight. I might make a
boast of not having suffered to escape me either a groan
or a word lacking in fortitude, in the midst of such perils,
were it not for the fact that I believed myself to be
perishing in company with all things, and all things
with me, a miserable and yet a mighty consolation in
death.

At last, this black mist grew thin, and went off into a
kind of smoke or haze ; soon came real day, and the sun
even shone forth, luridly however, and with the appear-
ance it usually wears under an eclipse. Our yet trembling
eyes saw everything changed and covered with deep ashes
as with snow. We returned to Misenum, and refreshed
our persons as best we might, and there spent a night of
suspense alternating between hope and fear. Fear pre-
vailed, for the quaking of the earth continued, and many
persons, crazy with terror, were sporting with their own
and other's misfortunes by means of the most appalling
predictions. Yet not even then, after experiencing and
still expecting perils, did we think of going away till news
came of my uncle. All this, which is in no way worthy
of history, will be for you to read, not to write about, and
you must lay it to your own account (since it was you
who called for the communication) if it should seem to
you not even worthy of a letter.

(21.) ■

To Caninius. /

I am one of those who admire the ancients, yet I do
not, like some, disparage the intellects of our own time.
For it is not true that nature, as though wearied and
effete, no lunger produces anything worthy of admiration.
And indeed I lately heard Vergilius Paifus reading to a
small company a comedy written after the model of the

202 PLINY'S LETTERS.

old comedy, and so well written that it may itself serve
as a model some day. I do not know whether you are
acquainted with the author, though you ought to be ; for
he is a man of mark owing to his high character, his
refined genius, and his versatility as a writer. He has
written " Mimiambi " * with much delicacy, melody and
grace, indeed masterpieces of their kind (for there is no
kind of composition which, if carried to perfection, may
not be styled a masterpiece) ; he has written comedies in
imitation of Menander and other authors of the same age.
You might rank them among the works of Plautus and
Terence. Now, for the first time, though not with the
air of a beginner, he exhibits himself in the old comedy.
Vigour, grandeur, subtlety, pungency, sweetness, humour,
none of these are wanting to him: he exalts virtue and
lashes vice, employing fictitious names with good taste,
and real ones with appropriateness. In my case only he
has transgressed the bounds, through excess of complais-
ance, except for this indeed that poets are licensed to fib.
To sum up, I shall squeeze the book out of him and send
it to you to read, or rather to be learnt by heart, for I am
sure you will not lay it down, if you once take it up.

(22.)

To Tiro.

An affair has taken place, which is of importance to all
those who are destined to govern provinces, and of im-
portance too to those who trust implicitly in their friends.
Lustricius Bruttianus, having discovered Montanius Atti-
cinus, one of his suite, in many delinquencies, reported
liim to Csesar. Atticinus added to his former delinquencies
by accusing the man whom he had deceived. An in-
vestigation was allowed, and I was among the assessors.
Each party pleaded his own case ; in a summary way,

* Mimic poems, in iambics.

BOOK VI. 203

however, and toucliing only on the heads, a method by
which the truth is at once brought to light. Bruttianus
produced his will, which he declared to have been written
by the hand of Atticinus ; this showed the closeness of
their intercourse and the necessity which had driven him
to complain of one whom he had loved so dearly. He
enumerated certain disgraceful and palpable offences ;
which charges Atticinus, being unable to impair, retorted
in such a way as to prove himself a mean knave by his
defence and a scoundrel by his accusations. For by
bribing one of the secretaries' slaves, he had intercepted
the Governor's official minutes and mutUated them, and
now with consummate rascality was trying to turn his
own crime to account against his friend. Csesar acted
nobly. He called for our verdicts, not on Bruttianus but
forthwith on Atticinus. The latter was convicted and
banished to an island. Bruttianus received a perfectly
merited acknowledgment of his integrity, and, in addition
to this, obtained the credit due to his energy; for, after
making short work of his own defence, he conducted his
accusation with vigour, and showed that he was as spirited
as he was good and honest.

This I have written to you by way of warning you
beforehand, now that you have had a province allotted to
you, to trust to yourself for the most part, and not put
entire confidence in any one else. Next, you will learn,
that should any one chance to deceive you (which may
the gods avert !) satisfaction is provided you. Yet, again
and again be careful that there may be no need of this ;
for it is not so agreeable to be vindicated as it is miser-
able to be imposed upon.

(23.)

To Teiaeius.

You beg me urgently to undertake a case in which you
are interested, and which, independently of this, is an

204 PLINY'S LETTERS.

important one, exciting public attention. I will do so,
but not gratuitously. " Can it be," say you, " that you
won't act gratuitously ? " Yes, it can be ; for I sliall
exact a fee more creditable to me than if I held a brief
for you gratis. I ask, and indeed stipulate, that Cremutius
Euso shall be with me in the case. This is a practice of
mine, and one which I have frequently followed before
now in the case of several young men of distinction. For
I am excessively anxious to exhibit young men of promise
to the Courts, and to introduce them to fame. This service
I ought to render to Euso, if to any one, whether on
account of the nobility of his own birth, or else of the
extraordinary regard he has for me; and I think it of
great consequence that he should be seen and heard in the
same cases, and moreover on the same side, as myself.
Oblige me then, oblige me, before he speaks ; for when he
has once spoken, you will express your obligations. I
guarantee that he will satisfy your anxieties and my
hopes and the importance of the case. He has excellent
qualities and will soon be bringing out other people, if
meanwhile he be brought out by us. For indeed no man
is gifted with a genius so immediately conspicuous as to
be able to rise from obscurity, unless the materials, the
opportunity — ay, and a patron too and one to recommend
him — fall to his lot.

(24.)

To Macee.

What a mighty difference it makes, hy whom a thing is
done ! For deeds of the same character are either exalted
to the highest pitch or sunk in the depths of oblivion
according to the fame or the obscurity of the actors. I
was sailing on our lake Larius,* when an elderly friend
pointed out to me a villa and moreover a saloon projecting
over the lake. " From that spot," said he, " a townswoman

* Now the Lago di Como.

BOOK VI. 205

of ours, once upon a time, precipitated herself in company
with her husband." I inquired the reason. The husband
had for a long time been an invalid, suffering from putrid
ulcers in the groin* His wife insisted on seeing them ;
no one (she said) could inform him more faithfully than
she whether he was capable of being cured. She saw
them and despaired. Next she advised him to die, and
became herself his companion in death, nay rather his
example and leader, the compelling cause of his death ;
for she tied her husband to her, and jumped into the lake.
This exploit was never heard of till recently, even by me
her townsman ; not because it was smaller than Arria's
celebrated exploit,t but because the agent was a smaller
person.

(25.)

To HiSPANUS.

You write word that Eobustus, a distinguished Eoman
knight, got as far as Ocriculum — to which point their road
lay in common — with Atilius Scaurus, a friend of mine,
and that nothing further was heard of him. You wish
for Scaurus to come and, if it be in his power, to put us
on some track for inquiry. He shall come ; I fear to no
purpose. Indeed I suspect that something or other has
befallen Eobustus, similar to what once befell Metilius
Crispus, a townsman of mine. I had obtained for him his
Company, and had further presented him at his departure
with forty thousand sesterces | for his outfit and equip-
ment ; I never, after this, got any letters from him or any
news with regard to his end. Whether he was cut off by
his slaves, or in company with his slaves, is a matter of
doubt ; certainly neither he nor any of his slaves subse-
quently appeared, as indeed none of Eobustus's have. We
must use our efforts, however ; we must send for Scaurus ;

* Circa velanda corporis, in the + See Book III,, Letter 16,
original. J About iE32o.

2o6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

we must accord tins to your prayers and to those, so highly
to be commended, of that excellent youth who is making
inquiry for his father with such marvellous affection and
marvellous sagacity as well. May the gods be favourable,
so that he may discover the object of his search, in the
same way as he already discovered the person in whose
company he had been.

(26.)
To Servianus.

I am delighted, and congratulate you, that you have
betrothed your daughter to Fuscus Salinator. His family
is patrician, his father a man of the highest character, and
his mother of like repute. He himself is of a studious and
literary turn, indeed learned, a boy in candour, a young
man in geniality, an elder in seriousness. Nor does my
love for him deceive me. I do love him, to be sure, with
effusion (his attentions and his respect for me have de-
served this), yet I exercise my judgment, and indeed the
more stringently the more I love him ; and I guarantee to
you, as one who have closely investigated liim, that you
will have a son-in-law than whom your wishes could not
have formed a better. All that remains is that he should,
as soon as possible, make you the grandfather of young
ones like himself. How happy the time, when it will be
my good fortune to receive from your arms his children
and your grandchildren — just as if they were my own
children or grandchildren — and to hold them in mine, as
though I had an equal right to them !

(27.)

To Severus.

You ask me to consider what you as Consul Elect should
say, when called upon in the Senate, in honour of the

BOOK VI. 207

Emperor* It is easy to find what to say, but by no
means easy to make a selection ; so abundant is the
material furnished by his virtues. However, I will write
or — which I should prefer — will intimate to you my ideas
by word of mouth, on condition of first exhibiting to you
the causes of my hesitation. I am in doubt whether to
advise you to do the same as I did. When Consul Elect,
I abstained from all those usual topics which, though not
flattery, would have borne the appearance of flattery ; not
by way of showing my independence and fearlessness, but
as understanding our Sovereign, whose greatest commenda-
tion I saw to be this, that nothing should be proposed by
me in his honour, as though on compulsion. I remembered
too that the most numerous honours had been conferred
on the worst princes ; from whom our present excellent
Sovereign could not be distinguished in any better way
than by a different mode of speaking of him. This par-
ticular point I did not disguise or pass in silence ; lest my
treatment should haply seem due to forgetfulness instead
of being the result of judgment. Such was my conduct
on that occasion ; but the same course does not find favour
with, is not indeed suitable to, all persons. Moreover,
the grounds for doing or not doing anything are altered
according to the circumstances of the parties themselves,
and the matters in hand, and the occasion. For the
recent achievements of our illustrious Prince furnish an
opportunity of saying in the Senate much that is new and
important as well as true. For which reasons, as I before
said, I doubt whether to advise you to act now as I did
then. This, however, I have no doubt about, that it was
my duty to offer for your consideration the course pursued
by myself.

* Quid in honorem principis censeas. pected to make some complimentary
The Cousul Elect when called on for remarks on the Sovereign,
the first time for his vote was ex-

2o8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(28.)

To Pontius.

I know the cause which prevented your arriving in
Campania before me. But, albeit absent, you seem to
have migrated here with all your possessions, such a
plenty of town and country produce has been offered me in
your name, all of which, though with great coolness, I have
nevertheless accepted. For not only did your servants
beg me to do so, but I feared you would be angry with me
and with them if I had not done so. Tor the future, if
you don't put a limit to this, I shall. And already I have
announced to your servants that, on their bringing so
many things another time, they would have to take them
all back again. You will say it behoves me to use what
is yours as though it were my own. Certainly ; but I am
for being just as careful of it as though it were my own.

(29-)

To QUADKATUS.

Avidius Quietus, who regarded me with particular
affection and (I am no less glad to say) approval, used
to relate many things of Thrasea, whose friend he had
been, and among them frequently this. He was in the
habit of laying it down that the causes to be undertaken
were these : those of friends, those which could find no
advocate, and those which pertained to example. The
case of friends needs no explanation. Why such ^as could
find no advocate ? Because in these the fearlessness as
well as the kindliness of him who pleads them would be
most strongly shown. Why those pertaining to example ?
Because it would make a great difference whether a good
or a bad one were exhibited. To these categories of causes,
though perhaps rather presumptuously, I must yet add
such as are distinguished and conspicuous. For it is fair

BOOK VI. 209

at times to plead the cause of glory and fame — in other
words, one's own cause.

These are the limits which, since you have consulted
me, I would impose on your sense of dignity and self-
respect. JSTor do I forget that practice is both held to be
and is the best teacher of the art of speaking; indeed, I
see many who, with small parts and no literature, have by
dint of pleading attained to pleading well. Yet I also
find that saying to be most true which has come to me as
Pollio's, or under the name of PoUio : " Pleading well has
been the cause of my pleading often, and pleading often
the cause of my pleading less well ; " because, in fact, by
too constant practice facility rather than a real faculty is
acquired, and rashness rather than self-reliance. Nor,
indeed, was Isocrates prevented from being held a con-
summate orator by the fact that the weakness of his
voice and his shyness impeded him from speaking in
public. Accordingly read, write, and meditate a great
deal, that you may be able to speak when you choose : you
will speak when you ought so to choose. This is the mean
which I myself have commonly preserved. Not unfre-
quently I have yielded to necessity, which ranks as a
reason. Por I have pleaded certain causes by order of
the Senate, in the number of which, however, were some
which come under the above classification of Thrasea, that
is to say, were such as to pertain to example. I appeared
for the Bgetici against Bsebius Massa. The question was
whether an investigation should be granted. It was
granted. I appeared again on behalf of the same parties
when they made plaint against Csecilius Classicus. The
question was as to the propriety of punishing provincials
as the associates and subordinate agents of a governor.
They suffered punishment. I prosecuted Marius Prisons,
who was condemned in virtue of the law on extortion, and
who profited by the clemency of that law, for by the
enormity of his crimes he had outstripped its heaviest
penalties. He was banished. I defended Julius Bassus,

0

2IO PLINY'S LETTERS.

who, thougli too unguarded and incautious, was by no means
criminal. Judges were assigned him, and he kept his place
in the Senate. I spoke lately on behalf of Varenus, who
demanded the right, equally with the other side, to com-
pel the attendance of witnesses. He obtained it. For the
future I pray that I may be ordered to plead those causes
in particular which it would become me to undertake even
of my own free will.

(30.)

To Fabatus, his Wife's Grandfather,

"We are bound, by Hercules, to celebrate your birthdays
in the same manner as our own, since the joy of ours de-
pends on yours, and through your diligence and care we are
happy here, and at our ease when with you.* The Camil-
lianf villa, which you possess in Campania, has certainly
suiTered from age : everything of value about it, however,
either remains intact, or is very slightly injured. I will
see then to restorations beim:' made on the most reason-
able terms. I seem to have many friends, but of that
particular class whom you are in search of and the busi-
ness demands, scarcely one ; for they are all men of the
town, engaged in town pursuits : whereas for the manage-
ment of country properties a rough-and-ready rustic sort
of person is required, to whom this particular employment
will not seem burdensome, nor the occupation one of petty
interests, nor the solitude melancholy. You have a very
favourable opinion of Rufus, as having been your son's
friend. What, however, he may be able to do for us there,
I am not in a position to say. That he has the best
intentions, I believe.

* It is impossible to know what this t This probably means, "once the
means in the absence of Fabatus's property of CamiUus,"
letter, to which this is evidently an
answer.

BOOK VI. 211

(31.)
To COENELIANUS.

Summoned by our emperor to act as his assessor at
Centum Cellee* (that was the name of the place), I ex-
perienced the greatest pleasure. What indeed can be
more delightful than to enjoy a near view of the prince's
equity, wisdom, and affability, and that too in his retire-
ment, where these qualities best disclose themselves?
The subjects of investigation were of various kinds, and
such as to test the merits of the judge by the diversity of
their character.

Claudius Ariston pleaded his cause, a leading citizen of
Ephesus, a munificent man, seeking popularity by innocent
means ; hence arose envy, and an informer was suborned
against him by persons whose character was the opposite
of his own. Accordingly he was acquitted, and received
satisfaction.

Next day the case of Gallita was heard, who was charged
with adultery. This lady, the wife of a military tribune
and candidate for office, had stained her own and her
husband's reputation by an amour with a centurion. The
husband had written to the consular legate, and he to
Csesar. Csesar, after sifting the evidence, cashiered the
centurion, and banished him into the bargain. There still
remained a balance of punishment due to an offence which
can only be committed by two persons. But the husband
was kept back (not without incurring some censure for his
forbearance) by his love for his wife, whom he had indeed
kept in his house, even after information had been laid of
the adultery, as though satisfied with having removed his
rival. Admonished that he must go through with his
charge, he did so very unwillingly. However, her con-
demnation was unavoidable, unwilling as the prosecutor
might be. She was convicted, and left to the penalties of

Now Civita Vecchia.

212 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the Lex Julia. Csesar added to his judgment both the
name of the centurion and a reference to military practice,
that he might not seem to reserve for his own cognisance
all cases of this kind.

On the third day an investigation was entered upon,
which had been the subject of a great deal of talk and a
variety of reports. It related to some codicils of Julius
Tiro, part of which were admitted to be genuine, while
part were said to be forged. The persons indicted were
Sempronius Senecio, a Eoman knight, and Eurythmus,
Caesar's freedman and procurator. The heirs, while Csesar
was in Dacia, had requested him in a joint letter to under-
take the investigation. He had consented, and on his
return had appointed a day ; and when some of the heirs,
as if out of regard for Eurythmus, were for abandoning
the prosecution, he had said most nobly, " Neither is he
Polyclitus, nor am I Nero." * However, he indulged
them, at their request, with a delay, the period of which
having expired, he now took his seat to hear the case. On
the part of the heirs, two in all put in an appearance : they
prayed either that the whole of the heirs should be com-
pelled to act, since all had united in lodging the informa-
tion, or that it might be permitted to them, as well as to the
others, to withdraw from the suit. Csesar expressed him-
self with great wisdom and at the same time with great
moderation; and when the advocate of Senecio and Eu-
rythmus said that the accused would be left exposed to
suspicion unless they were heard, " I care not," said he,
' whether they are left exposed to suspicions : but / am."
Then, turning to us, " You understand how we ought to
act ; these people want to make it a ground of complaint
that they have been allowed to withdraw from the prose-
cution."! Then, pursuant to the decision of the Council,

* Polyclitus was a freedman of +" If we allow them to retire from

Nero. The sense is, " I do not favour the case they will declare that this

my freedmen, and wink at their op- was done to shield Eurythmus." I

pressions and extortions, as Nero read isti enim queri volunt, quod sibi

did." licuerit non accusare.

BOOK VI. 213

he ordered it to te announced to all the heirs that they
must either proceed, or else individually make good their
reasons for not proceeding, otherwise he should go the
length of pronouncing a judgment of false accusation.

You see how well, how seriously, employed were our days ;
and these were followed by the most agreeable relaxations.
We were invited each day to dinner, a modest one con-
sidering that it was given by a prince. Sometimes we
listened to the performances of artists, at others the even-
ing was spent in the most delightful converse. On the
last day, as we were taking our departure (so attentive is
Csesar in his kindness), presents were sent us.

To me, however, not only the important character of
our inquiries, the distinction attaching to the Council, and
the charm and simplicity with which we were entertained,
but also the locality itself, was particularly delightful. The
loveliest of villas is surrounded by the most verdant fields :
it borders on the shore, in the bight of which a harbour is
at this moment being made. The left-hand mole of this is
protected by the strongest works ; that on the right hand
is under construction. In the mouth of the harbour an
island* is rising, to confront and break the force of the
sea carried in by the winds, and to afford an entrance to
ships on either side. Its rise, moreover, is worth seeing,
from the ingenuity displayed. Huge stones are brought
in by ships of the largest burden ; these being thrown into
the sea,t one upon another, remain fixed by their own
weight, and are gradually constructed into a kind of ram-
part. Its stony ridge already appears above the surface,
scattering and throwing to a great height the waves which
break on it. There is a mighty din there, and the sur-
rounding sea is white with foam. Moles of cement^ will
be added to the stones, which, as time goes on, will pro-

* What vre call % breakwater. I have not attempted to render it,

+ Contra haec alia super alia de- believing it to be corrupt.

jecta. None of the commentators + Filae substructions, composed of

know what to do with "contra." a kind of cement and other materials,

Gesner has included it in brackets, which hardened under the water.

214 PLINY'S LETTERS.

duce an imitation of a natural island. This harbour will
bear, indeed already bears, the name of its author, and
will be in the highest degree serviceable ; for the coast for
a very long distance is without any harbour, and will now
have the advantage of this place of refuge.

(32.)

To QUINTILIAN.

Though you are personally the most modest of men
in your desires, and though you have brought up your
daughter as it was proper that your daughter and the
grandchild of Tutilius should be brought up, nevertheless,
as she is about to be married to a most honourable gentle-
man. Nonius Celer, who by reason of his public employ-
ments has a certain necessity imposed on him of making
an appearance, she should be provided with a wardrobe
and an establishment suitable to her husband's station ;
matters which, though they will not add to her position,
will be adornments and proper accompaniments to it.
Furthermore, I know that while you are rich in mental
endowments, your fortune is but small. According I lay
claim to a share of your burden, and in the character of a
second father to our dear girl, contribute towards her por-
tion fifty thousand sesterces.* I would contribute a larger
sum, were it not that it is by the smallness of my present
alone that I have the assurance of being able to prevail
on your modesty not to refuse it.

* About £j,^o.

BOOK Vr. 215

(33.)

To EOMANUS.

' * ' Throw, throw your tasks aside,' great Vulcan cried ;
' Off with your works begun.' " *

Whether you be reading or writing anything, " throw it
aside," " off with it," be the order, and take in hand my
speech, divine as were those arms of Vulcan — would it be
possible to speak more boastfully ? — well, in sober truth,
an excellent one for a production of mine, and it is enough
for me to compete with myself. This speech is on behalf
of Attia Viriola, and is rendered remarkable by the station
of the individual, the singularity of the case, and the im-
portance of the decision. For, this lady, of lofty birth,
married to a man of Praetorian rank, and disinherited by
her octogenarian father within eleven days of the time
when, smitten with love, he had brought home a step-
mother for her, sought to recover her "paternal property
by a process instituted before the four courts. One
hundred and eighty judges sat (for so many are brought
together in the four chambers) ; there was a vast crowd of
assistants on either side, and the benches were thronged ;
moreover a dense circle of spectators, consisting of many
rows, encircled the spacious court. Add to this that the
tribune was packed, and even in the galleries of the build-
ins women as well as men were hangingr over in their
eagerness to hear, which was difficult, and to see, which
was easy. Great was the expectation of fathers and
daughters and even of stepmothers. The results which
followed were various : for in two chambers we gained

* The words in which Vulcan, in order to devote their attention to the
the jEneid, bids the Cyclopes throw manufacture of arms for ^neas.
aside what they were engaged on, in

2i6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the verdict, in the same number we lost it.* Truly a
notable and marvellous thing that in the same cause,
before the same judges, with the same advocates and
on the same occasion, so great a diversity should occur
by chance, yet so as not to look like chance. The step-
mother was beaten, who had herself been made heir to a
sixth part of the fortune, and Suberinus f was beaten,
who, after being disinherited by his own father, had
with singular impudence claimed the property of another
person's father, though he did not dare to sue for that of
his own parent.

I have given you these details, first that you might
learn from my letter what you could not have learnt from
the speech, and secondly (for I will discover my arts) that
you might have the greater pleasure in reading the speech,
if you seemed to yourself not so much to be reading, as
to be present at the trial. And though it be lengthy, I
do not despair of its obtaining the same favour as a very
short one. For its freshness is preserved by the abundance
of the subject-matter, the niceness of the distinctions, by
many short narratives and by the variety of the diction.
There are many passages in it (I should not dare say this
save to you) of an elevated kind, many of an argumentative,
and many too of a subtle character. For in the midst of
the former powerful and lofty passages, the necessity often
interposed itself of dealing with matters of account, and
almost of calling for table and counters, so that a Centum-
viral trial became all of a sudden changed into the form

* Everything connected with the got judgment in his favour on two

court of the Centumviri is so obscure points and lost it on two others. But

that we have no certainty as to the this is against the text, which dis-

meaning of this. It would seem that tinctly refers to four chambers, and

the whole four chambers sat together, says nothing of four points. It is

and that each chamber gave a separate also against the next sentence. For

judgment. But, then, in the present there would be nothing "notable and

case, the court being equally divided, marvellous " in different issues being

one would think there would be no differently decided,

verdict or judgment. Others sup- ■)- Apparently, the step-mother's

pose the meaning to be that Pliny son.

BOOK VI. 217

of a private inquiry. I gave full sails to my indignation,
to my wrath, to my grief, and in so mighty a cause, as
though on a great sea, was carried by many winds. In
short, some of our friends generally consider this speech
as being the "Pro Ctesiphonte " of my speeches ; * whether
truly, you will most easily judge, who have them all so
well in your memory as to be able to compare them with
this, while reading this alone.

(34.)

To Maximus.

You have acted rightly in promising a gladiatorial show
to our friends at Verona, who have long loved and re-
spected and honoured you. And it was thence you
obtained that wife who was so dear to you and so de-
servedly appreciated ; to whose memory either a construc-
tion of some kind was due, or else a spectacle, and such
a one as this in preference to any other, as being most
suited to a death-celebration. Besides, you were entreated
with so much unanimity that to refuse would have seemed
not so much resolution as obstinacy. In this also you
have acted admirably, in being so ready and liberal in
furnishing the show ; for these are points too in which
laro-e-mindness is shown. I could have wished that the
panthers, of which you bought such numbers, had come
to hand on the day appointed, but though tluy failed, from
being detained by stress of weather, you at any rate
deserved to get the credit of what it was no fault of
yours that you did not exhibit.

* Being to the rest of my orations of Ctesiphon is to his — my chcj
what Demosthenes' speech on behalf d'osuvre, in fact.

( 2l8 )

BOOK VI I.

To Geminus.

The obstinacy of tliis illness of yours alarms me, and, though
knowing how great is your self-control, I fear it may even
affect your temper. Accordingly, I urge you to bear up
against it with patience. This is the laudable, the whole-
some course, and what I advise is within the power of
human nature. For my part, at any rate, when in health,
I am in the habit of dealing with my people after this
fashion : " It is assuredly my hope that, in case of falling
sick, I shall desire nothing to be ashamed of or repented
of ; yet, should the disease get the better of me, I warn
you to give me nothing, except by permission of the
doctors; and know that if you do give me anything, I
shall punish the act in the same way as others punish a
refusal to comply with their wishes." Moreover, on the
occasion of my being burnt up by a raging fever, when,
freed at last from the crisis and anointed, I received a
drink from the doctor, I held out my pulse and bid him
feel it, and thereupon gave back the cup which I had
already raised to my lips. Afterwards, on the twentieth
day of my illness, when I was being prepared for the bath,
and noticed that the doctors were all of a sudden speaking
together in an undertone, I inquired the reason. They
replied that I might possibly bathe with safety, yet not
altogether without some apprehension. "Where," said I,
"is the necessity?" and so placidly and calmly laying
aside all hope of the bath, which I had seemed on the point
of being conveyed to, I composed my mind and my looks for
the privation no less readily than just before for the bath.

BOOK VI I. 219

All this I have written to you, firstly, that my warning
might not be unaccompanied by an example, and next,
that for the future I myself might be bound to the same
course of self-control, through having engaged myself to
it by this letter as by a kind of pledge.

(2.)
To Justus.

How can it be consistent that in one and the same
breath you declare you are engrossed by incessant occupa-
tions and yet are longing for my productions, which even
from idle folks can scarce obtain a moment of their useless
time ? I will therefore permit your summer to go by, with
its cares and its agitations, and not till winter (when it is
presumable that in the evenings at any rate you will
possibly have some leisure) will I consider which of my
trifles had b^st be sent you. Meanwhile, it is enough if
my letters do not prove a nuisance to you — but they must
be, so they shall be cut shorter. Adieu.

(3-)
To Pr^sens.

Still the same persistency on your part in remaining at
one time in Lucania, at another in Campania ! " Why,"
say you, "I myself am a Lucanian and my wife is a
Campanian." Good grounds these for a more protracted
absence from town ; but not, however, for an uninterrupted
one. Why not return then at some time to Eome, where
consideration and honour and friendships, distinguished as
well as humble, await you. How long will you continue
to play the king, waking when you choose and sleeping as
long as you choose ? How long are your dress-shoes to
be nowhere, your toga to have a holiday, your whole day
to be free ? It is time that you should revisit our worries,
if with this object only, that those pleasures of yours may

220 PLINY'S LETTERS.

not languish through satiety. Pay your court to others for
a brief while, that it may be the more agreeable to you to
be courted in turn. Jostle in this crowd of ours, in order
to enjoy solitude. But why foolishly retard him whom I
am striving to recall ? For, perhaps, you will be urged by
this very language of mine more and more to wrap your-
self up in your ease, which I don't want to see broken up,
but merely intermitted. For, just as if I were giving you
a dinner I should intermingle with sweet dishes some that
were sharp-flavoured and piquant, that your taste, deadened
and cloyed by the former, might receive a fresh stimulus
from the latter, so now I exhort you to season your most
delectable mode of life now and then with, so to speak, a
triflincT admixture of acids.

o

(4.)

To Pontius.

You say you have read my hendecasyllables ; you would
even seek to know how it was that I began to write them,
who am, in your estimation, a serious personage, and, as
I myself admit, no trifler. I was at no time (to go back
a long way) averse from the poetic art ; nay more, when
fourteen years of age, I wrote a Greek tragedy. " What
sort of one ? " you ask. I can't say ; it was called a
tragedy. Afterwards, when, on my return from military
service, I was detained by adverse winds in the island of
Icaria, I wrote some Latin elegiacs on the sea there and
the island itself. At times I have tried my hand at heroic
metre ; now for the first time at hendecasyllables, which
were originated and first saw the light in this wise. The
chapters of Asinius Gallus on the comparison between his
father and Cicero were being read to me at my house at
Laurentum, when an epigram of Cicero on his favourite
Tiro occurred. Afterwards, on retiring for a midday siesta
(for it was summer time) when sleep failed to steal over

BOOK VII. 221

me, I began to ponder how the greatest orators not only-
esteemed this kind of literary effort as a recreation, but
also took credit for it. I applied my mind, and, contrary
to my expectation, after such long disuse, in a remarkably
short space of time scribbled the following verses on the
very subject which had induced me to write : —

"When Gallus I read, who pretends that his sire
Had far more than Tully poetical fire :
The wisest of men, I perceived, held it fit
To temper his wisdom with love and with wit ;
For Tully, grave Tully, in amorous strains
Of the frauds of his paramour Tiro complains ;
That, faithless to love and to pleasure untrue,
From his promised embrace the arch wanton withdrew ;
Then I said to my heart, * Why should' st thou conceal
The sweetest of passions, the love which you feel ?
Yes, fly, wanton Muse, and proclaim it around.
Thy Pliny has loved and his Tiro has found.'
The coy one so artful, who sweetly denies.
And from the sweet flame, but to heighten it, flies." *

I passed on to elegiacs ; these, too, I delivered myself of
with no less celerity, and, corrupted by this facility, I
added some iambics. Then, on my return to town, I read
them to my friends. They approved them. Afterwards
I attempted a variety of metres in my leisure moments,
and principally when travelling. At last I determined,
in accordance with the example set by many, to complete
one separate volume of hendecasyllables, nor do I repent
having done so. It is read, transcribed, indeed sung, and
accompanied — by the Greeks, too, whom their relish for
this little book has taught Latin — sometimes on the guitar,
at other times on the lyre. But why talk so big ? How-
ever, poets are privileged to rave. And yet I do not speak
from my own but from others' judgments, who, whether
they judge rightly or wrongly, at any rate delight me. I
only pray that posterity likewise may judge, whether
rightly or wrongly, in the same way.

* I have given Melmoth's version.

222 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(5-)

To Calpuenia, his Wife.

It is incredible what a yearning for you possesses me.
The reason of this is first of all my love for you, and
next that we have not been accustomed to be separated.
Hence it is that I spend a great part of my nights wake-
ful over your image ; hence in the day, at the times when
I was in the habit of looking in on you, my feet of their
own accord take me — as the phrase runs most truly — to
your apartment ; hence in the end, sick at heart and sad,
as one who has been denied admittance, I retire from the
deserted threshold. One time alone is free from these
torments, that in which I am worn out in the Forum by
the law-suits of my friends. It is for you to judge what
my life must be when it finds its repose in labour, its
solace in miseries and cares !

(6.)

To Macrinus.

A strange and remarkable circumstance has happened
to Varenus,* though it be still of an uncertain character.
The Bithynians are reported to have given up his prose-
cution on the ground of its having been undertaken with-
out consideration. Eeported, do I say ? The agent of the
province is here, and has brought a decree of its council
to Csesar, to many of our leading men, and to us, the
advocates of Varenus, into the bargain. Still, that same
Magnus holds out ; more than this, he worries with the
utmost pertinacity the worthy Nigrinus, through whom
he made application to the consuls that Varenus should
be ordered to produce his accounts. I assisted Varenus,
but now only as a friend, having made up my mind to
hold my tongue. For nothing could be more disadvan-

* See Letters v. 20 and vi. 13.

BOOK VIL 223

tageous than that I, appointed his advocate by the Senate,
should defend, as though lying under an accusation, a
person to whom it imported that he should appear not to
be accused at all. However, when at the close of Nigri-
nus's application the consuls turned their eyes towards me,
" You will know," said I, " that I have good reason for my
silence when you have heard the real agents of the pro-
vince." In answer to this, "To whom have they been
sent ? " asked Nigrinus. Said I, " To tne, as well as to
others. I am in possession of the decree of the province."
To which he returned, " You may feel satisfied." I replied,
" If you are satisfied the other way, it is possible that I,
too, may be satisfied, and with better reason." Upon this
the provincial agent, PolyjEuus, set forth the grounds for
annulling the prosecution, and demanded that there should
be no prejudgment of the matter in view of Cajsar's cog-
nisance of it. Magnus spoke in reply, and Polysenus a
second time. For my part, merely interspersing an occa-
sional and brief remark, I observed in general a profound
silence. For I have learnt that there are times when it is
no less the part of an orator to hold his tongue than to
speak. And I can even remember that in the case of cer-
tain persons capitally accused, I have served them still
better by my silence than by the most elaborate oratory.

A mother who had lost her son (for what prohibits
me, though my reason for writing this letter was a differ-
ent one, from discussions of a professional kind?) accused
to the prince his freedmen, who were also co-heirs with
her, of forgery and poisoning, and obtained Julius Ser-
vianus for judge. I defended the accused, and that too in
a very crowded court ; for the case attracted great notice,
and, besides, the most celebrated talent was employed on
either side. The trial ended by the slaves being put to
the question,* and the result was in favour of the accused.
Subsequently the mother applied to the prince, declaring
that she had discovered fresh evidence. Suburanus was

* To the torture.

224 PLINY'S LETTERS.

directed to hear the case thus decided, reargued, in the
event of her producing any new matter. The mother's
counsel was Julius Africanus, a grandson of that orator
after hearing whom Passienus Crispus exclaimed, " Finely
spoken, by Hercules, finely spoken ! But to what end all
this fine speaking ? " This orator's grandson, a young man
of talent, but not much judgment, after he had talked at
great length and filled up the time allotted him, " I beg,"
said he, " Suburanus, that you would permit me to add just
one word." Then I, when all were looking to me with the
expectation of hearing a long reply, spoke thus, " I should
have replied, if Africanus had added just that ' one word,'
which, I doubt not, would have contained all his new
matter." I cannot readily call to mind having ever ob-
tained so much approval by speaking, as I did then by not
speaking. Similarly on the present occasion I was lauded
and welcomed for having so far held my tongue on behalf
of Varenus.* The consuls, in accordance with the appli-
cation of Polysenus, have kept the whole matter open for
the prince, whose decision I await in suspense. For, the
day when it is given will either put us at rest and
at ease for Varenus, or will force us to resume our in-
terrupted labours with renewed anxiety.

{?)

To Satueninus.

I thanked our friend Prisons lately, and have done so
again — since you so bade me — with the greatest pleasure.
It is indeed particularly delightful to me that two such
excellent men and dear friends of mine should be so knit
together as to think yourselves under a reciprocal obliga-
tion. For he, too, professes to derive the highest gratifi-
cation from your intimacy, and engages with you in a
truly noble contest of mutual affection, which time itself

* Eactenns tacui. Keil reads hactenus non tacui, which gives a very
forced sense.

BOOK VII. 225

will increase. I am sorry to hear tliat you are engrossed
by business, for this reason, that you are unable to devote
yourself to literature. However, when you have concluded
one case before a judge, and (as you tell me) settled the
other in person, you will begin, first, to enjoy your leisure
where you are, and then, when you have had enough of it,
to think of returning to us.

(8.)
To Pkiscus.

I cannot express my delight at our friend Saturninus
speaking to me of his deep thankfulness to you in letter
after letter. Go on as you have begun, and cherish with
all possible affection this excellent man, from whose
friendship you will derive great satisfaction, and for no
short time either; for abounding as he is in all good
qualities, he is principally distinguished for the remark-
able constancy of his affections.

(9.)
To Fuscus.

You ask me after what manner I think you ought to
pursue your studies in the retirement which you have now
for some time enjoyed. . It will be particularly profitable
— and so it is laid down by many — to translate either
from Greek into Latin, or from Latin into Greek. This is
a kind of exercise which will furnish you with propriety
and brilliancy of expression, a great supply of ornamental
turns, force in exposition, and, moreover, by imitation of
the best models, a faculty of inventing what will resemble
them. At the same time, what might have eluded the
notice of a reader cannot escape a translator. By this
means taste and judgment are acquired. It will do you no
harm if — taking what you have read with sufficient atten-

p

226 PLINY S LETTERS.

tion to recollect the matter and the argument — you write
down the substance in a spirit of rivalry, and then compare
it with what you have read, carefully considering what
you and what your author have put in a preferable way.
Great will be your joy if you have bettered him in some
places; great your shame if he has bettered you in every-
thing. It will sometimes be permissible to select the best
known parts, and to compete with the choicest passages.
This contest, though a daring one, will not be impertinent,
because it is carried on in private. Though, for the
matter of that, we see many who have undertaken this
kind of competition with great credit, and who, by reason
of not despairing, have outstripped those whom they
thought it sufficient to follow in the wake of. You may
also take in hand again what you have written, after you
have forgotten it, and then retain much of it, throw out
more, insert some things, and rewrite others. This is an
irksome and extremely tedious task, but which the diffi-
culty itself renders profitable — to warm to one's work
afresh, and resume one's swing after it has been enfeebled
and has ceased, and, finally, to insert fresh members, so to
speak, in a completed framework, yet so as not to disturb
what was there before.

I know that just now you have a particular affection
for oratory, but I would not on that account advise you
always to adopt that contentious, ar\d, if I may so term it,
warlike style. For as soils are refreshed by varying and
changing the seeds, so are our minds by exercising the
thoughts now in one direction, now in another. I should
wish you occasionally to take up some historical topic. I
should a' so wish you to write a letter with especial pains,
Eor oftentimes, even in an oration, a necessity occurs, not
only for historical, but almost for poetical treatment, and
a concise and pure style is acquired by letter-writing.
Even poetry is a fitting relaxation, I don't say long and
sustained poems (for such as these can only be elaborated
with full leisure), but of that lively and short kind which

BOOK VII. 227

form a suitable interruption to occupations and business,
however important. We call them poetic sports. But
these sports sometimes attain to no less fame than serious
effusions. Nay, more (for why should I not exhort you to
verse-making by verse ?) : —

As yielding wax the artist's skill commands,

Submissive shaped beneath his forming hands ;

Now dreadful stands in arms a Mars confessed,

Or now with Veniis' softer air impressed ;

Now by the mould a wanton Cupid lies, j

Now shines, severely chaste, a Pallas wise ;

As not alone to quench the sacred flame

The sacred fountain pours her friendly stream,

But sweetly gliding through the flowery green,

Spreads glad refreshment o'er the smiling scene ;

So, formed by science, should the ductile mind

Receive, distinct, each various art refined.*

And so the greatest orators, who were at the same time
the greatest of men, either exercised or delighted them-
selves, nay, rather both exercised and delighted themselves.
For it is marvellous how, by means of these small com-
positions, the mind is at once exerted and refreshed.
There is room in them for love, hatred, wrath, pity,
humour, everything, in short, which has a place in daily
life, as well as in the Forum and its trials. There is in
these, too, the same advantage as in other kinds of poetry,
that, after acquitting ourselves of the necessities imposed
by metre, we learn to rejoice in the freedom of prose, and
that which comparison shows to be the easier for us we
write with all the more pleasure.

You have now got, perhaps, even more than you
required. One thing, however, has been omitted, for 1
have not said what I thought you ought to read, and yet
I did say it when telling you what ought to be written.
Do you mind and make a careful selection of authors,
each of his own kind. For they say that one ought to
read much, not many things. "Who these authors are is so

* Melmoth s translation, with a slight verbal alteration.

228 PLINY'S LETTERS.

■well-known and established that there is no necessity for
pointing them out ; and, independently of this, I have so
immoderately extended this letter, that, while advising you
on the way in which you ought to conduct your studies, I
have been robbing you of time for study. Eesume, then,
your note-books, and either write something in accordance
with these suggestions, or go on with the particular work
you had begun.

(lO.)

To Macrinus.

As I myself, when I have learnt the beginning of a
story, long to tack to it the ending, which has in a manner
been forcibly separated from it, so I suppose that you too
would like to learn the remainder about Varenus and the
Bithynians.* The cause was pleaded by Polysenus on
one side, and Magnus on the other. At the conclusion of
their speeches, " Neither party," said Caesar, " shall have
to complain of delay ; it shall be my care to ascertain the
wishes of the province." Meanwhile Varenus has obtained
a good deal. For, indeed, how doubtful it must be whether
a man is rightly accused, when it is uncertain whether
he be accused at all? All that remains is that the
province should not once more approve of what it
is said to have condemned, and thus repent of its own
repentance.

(II.)
To Fabatus, his Wife's Geandfather.

You are surprised that Hermes, my freedman, should
have sold to Corellia the five-twelfth share which was left
me in an estate (without waiting for the auction, though I
had ordered the property to be advertised), at the rate of

* See Letter 6 of this Book.

BOOK VII. 229

seven hundred thousand sesterces for the whole.* You
add that the estate could be sold for nine hundred thou-
sand,j- and hence you are more particular in inquiring
whether I am prepared to stand by what he has done. I
certainly do stand by it, for reasons you will now learn,
for I am anxious that you should approve, and my co-heirs
should excuse, my separating myself from them under the
compulsion of a still higher obligation. I have a regard
and profound respect for Corellia, first of all as being the
sister of Corellius Eufus, whose memory is in the highest
degree sacred in my eyes, and next as the bosom friend of
my mother. Ties of long standing unite me to her husband
also, Minicius Justus, a man of the loftiest character, and
very strong ones united me to her son, to such an extent
indeed that, during my Prsetorship, he presided at the
shows which I gave. Corellia, when I was lately in those
parts, intimated to me her desire to own some property
upon our Larian lake. I offered her, out of my estates,
anything she liked, at her own price, always excepting
what had come to me from my mother and father, for I
could not part with these, even to Corellia. So when this
inheritance had fallen to me, containing the lands in
question, I wrote to her that they would be offered for sale.
Hermes was the bearer of my letter, and on her urgently
requesting that he would at once dispose of my portion to
her, he complied. You see how completely I must stand
to that which has been done by my freedman in compli-
ance with my sentiments. It remains that my co-heirs
should bear with a good grace my having sold separately
what I was entitled not to sell at all. Nor, indeed, are
they compelled to imitate my example, for there are not
the same ties between them and Corellia. They can,
therefore, look to their own interests ; mine were replaced
by a sense of friendship.

* About £5600. t About £7200.

230 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(12.)

To MiNicius.

The enclosed small production was composed by me at
your request for your, nay, rather our friend (for what is
there that is not common between us ?), to use if occasion
requires. I have sent it you later than I otherwise
should, in order that you may have no time for correcting
it, that is to say, pulling it to pieces. However, you will
find time, whether for correcting it I know not, but cer-
tainly for pulling it to pieces. For you " gentlemen of
correct taste " cut out all the best bits. Well, if you do this,
I will take it in good part. For I shall afterwards, on some
occasion or other, use these same bits on my own account,
and obtain applause for them by favour of your con-
temptuous rejection of them — as, for instance, that passage
which you will find marked, and the sense set out in a
different way, in what I have written above it : for suspect-
ing that it would seem to you turgid, inasmuch as it is
high-sounding and elevated, I thought it not inopportune
(in order to spare you torture) to append to it forthwith
something conciser and simpler, or rather commoner and
worse, but which, in your judgment, will be more appro-
priate. Why, in sooth, should I not take every opportunity
of pursuing and railing at your flimsy taste ?

So much, that amidst your occupations you might for
once have something to laugh at. What follows is serious.
Be sure you repay me the expenses which have come out
of my pocket for the special messenger sent herewith. But
doubtless, after reading this, you will condemn, not parts
of the book only, but the whole book, and, when asked for
the price of it, will declare that it is worth no price at all !

BOOK VI I. 231

(I3-)
To Ferox.

One and the same letter of yours intimates to me thai
you are, and that you are not, engaged in literary studies
Do I talk enigmas ? So it must be till I express my
meaning more clearly. For while it denies that you are
studying, it is so elegant that it could only have been
written by a student ; or else you are the most fortunate
of men if you can turn out such compositions as these as
the fruits of idleness and leisure.

(14.)

To CORELLIA.

You, for your part, have acted most honourably in
begging and insisting with so much earnestness that I
would order the purchase-money of the estate to be re-
ceived from you, not at the rate of seven hundred thousand
sesterces — that at which you bought it from my freed-
man — but at the rate of nine hundred thousand,* that
at which you compounded for the duty of five per cent,
with the farmers of the revenue, t In my turn, I beg and
insist you will consider, not only what befits you, but
what befits me, and will sufier me, in this one particular,
to oppose your wishes in the same spirit as on all other
occasions I am wont to exhibit in complying with them.

(15.)
To Satueninus.

You ask what I am about. What you know. I am
greatly tried by my official duties, and at the beck and call

* See Letter 11. " buy back," by a sum of money, the

+ Quanti a publicanis partem vice- transaction amounting to what we

simam emisti. The collectors claimed should call paying a five per cent, ad

, U.H.

230 . PLINY'S LET

\

232 PLINY'S LETTERS.

of my friends. Occasionally I study, to be able to do which,
not occasionally, but exclusively and uninterruptedly,
"would be, I dare not say a more proper, but certainly a
happier thing. That your occupations are everything but
what you could wish would be a subject of regret to me
iflvere it not that those occupations are of so noble a
+'hat3haracter. For to administer the affairs of one's country,
""and to act as arbitrator for one's friends, this is in the
highest degree glorious. I was sure that the society of
our friend Prisons would be a pleasure to you. I was
acquainted with his straightforwardness and agreeable
manners, and now learn by experience, what I was less
acquainted with, his grateful disposition, since you write
to me that he is so agreeably mindful of our services
V "^ to him.

(16.)

To Fabatus, his Wife's Geandfathee.

I have an intimate regard for Calestrius Tiro, who is
attached to me both by private and public ties. We
served in the army together, and we were Csesar's Quaes-
tors together. He preceded me in the tribuneship, in
virtue of his having children,* but I overtook him in the
prsetorship — Csesar having remitted me a year.t I have
often enjoyed the retirement of his country seats, and he
has often recovered his health at my house. He is now, in
the capacity of Proconsul, about to go to the province of
Bsetica, by way of Ticinum. I hope, nay, am confident,
that I shall easily prevail on him to turn out of his way
and visit you, if it be your wish to liberate in regular form
the slaves whom you have recently manumitted in the
presence of your friends.j You need not be at all afraid

* By the Lex Papia Poppsea a + In his capacity of Proconsul

candidate with several children was Calestrius Tiro would be able to give

preferred to one with fewer or none, legal effect to this informal act of

■)■ That is, having allowed me to manumission,
serve the office of Praetor a year be-
fore I was properly eligible.

BOOK VIL 233

that this "will inconvenience him, since he would not think
a journey round the world too long for my sake. Lay
aside, then, that excessive diffidence of yours, and consult
your own wishes. It is as agreeable to him to do my
bidding as it is to me to do yours.

(I7-)
To Celee.

Every one has his own reasons for reciting. Mine, as I
have already often said, is this, that in case anything
escapes my notice (as certainly things do escape), I may
be warned of the fact. And this makes me wonder the
more at your writing that there have been some who
blamed me for reciting my orations at all — unless, indeed
they think that these are the only compositions which'
need no correction. Qf these people I should be glad to
inquire why they admit (if, however, they do admit) that
a history ought to be recited, which is composed, not with
a view to display, but to fidelity and truth ? Or why a
tragedy, which requires, not a recitation chamber, but a
stage and actors ? Or why lyric poetry, which requires,
not a reader, but the chorus and the lyre ? " Oh, but the
recitation of these kind of things is now a received usage."
Pray, then, is the person to be blamed who originated it ?
Though, by the way, orations too have often been read
aloud both by our countrymen and by the Greeks. " At
any rate, it is a work of supererogation to recite what
you have already spoken." Granted, if you recite exactly
the same thing, to precisely the same people, without a
moment's delay. If, however, you make many additions
and many changes, if you invite to hear you some fresh
people, together with some of those who have heard you
before (after an interval, however), why should your
reasons for reading aloud what you have already spoken
be less acceptable than for publishing the same ? " But it
is difficult for an oration to give satisfaction when recited."

234 PLINY'S LETTERS.

"Well, but this is a point which concerns the pains taken
by the reciter, not the reasons for not reciting. Nor,
indeed, do I seek approval while reciting, but while being
read. Consequently, I neglect no means of improvement.
First of all, I go carefully over what I have written by
myself ; next I read it to two or three people ; then I hand
it over to others to make their notes on it, and these notes,
when in any doubt, I again ponder in company with one or
other of them. Last of all, I recite to a larger audience, and,
if you will believe me, then it is that I am keenest at cor-
recting ; for the ardour of my application is proportioned to
my anxiety. Indeed, respect for one's audience and a sense
of diffidence are the best of critics. Take it in this way :
are you not less perturbed if you are going to address some
one person, who, however great his culture, is still a single
individual, than if you are going to address a number of
people, even though they be uncultured? Do you not, on ris-
ing to plead, nlistrust yourself, particularly at that moment ;
at that moment desire, not merely that many things, but
that everything in your speech could be changed ? And that
still more strongly if the scene be enlarged and the circle
of hearers extended ? For we look with apprehension even
upon the common folk in their dusky attire. Are you not —
if you fancy any part of your opening to be unfavourably
received — at once discouraged and prostrated ? I presume
this is because, in numbers themselves, there is a certain
weighty and collective judgment ; and while each indivi-
dual has but a small critical faculty, yet, taken altogether,
they have a great deal. Hence Pomponius Secundus — he
was a writer of tragedies — if there chanced to be any
passage which one of his intimate friends thought of a
nature to be left out, while he himself thought it should
be retained, used to say, " I appeal to the public ! " And
accordingly, judging from the silence or the approval of
the public, he followed either his own or his friend's
opinion. Such importance did he attach to this same
public ; rightly or wrongly, does not concern me j for it is

BOOK VII. 235

not my custom to invite the public, but persons I am sure of
and have selected, whom I can look at and trust, whom I
can scrutinise singly, and stand in awe of collectively. For
M. Cicero's opinion about the pen I hold with regard to fear.
Apprehension is the sharpest corrector. The very fact
that we reflect we are about to recite acts as a corrector ; our
entrance into the audience-room, the act of growing pale,
our shivering, our looking about us, all these are so many
correctors. Consequently, I am not ashamed of my habit,
which experience shows me to be a most useful one, and,
so far from being deterred by these people's tittle-tattle,
I will go further, and ask you if you can tell me of
anything to be added to all this. Nothing, indeed, will
satisfy my precautions ; for I reflect what an important
matter it is to deliver anything into the hands of men ;
and I cannot persuade myself that it is not proper to
revise often, and in the company of many, that which
one desires should give pleasure at all times and to all
people.

(18.)

To Caninius.

You ask my opinion in what way the money which
you have offered to our townsfolk for an annual feast
may be secured after your decease. While the inquiry does
you honour, the decision is not an easy one. Suppose
you pay the amount to the municipality? It is to be
feared that it may be squandered. Suppose you give
land ? Being public land, it will be neglected. For my
part, I can find nothing better than what I did myself.
In lieu of five hundred thousand sesterces,* which I had
promised for the maintenance of free boys and girls, I
made over to the agent of the public property some lands
of mine of much greater value ; these I had reconveyed to
me on condition of paying thirty thousand sesterces f

* About £4cxx>. See Book i. Letter 8. f About £240.

236 PLINY'S LETTERS.

annually as a rent-charge. In this way the capital of the
municipality was made safe and the income was assured ;
the land itself, in consequence of there being a large margin
over the rent-charge, will always find an owner to culti-
vate it. I am aware that this cost me something more
than the amount of my nominal donation, as the lien of
the rent-charge has diminished the selling price of a very
handsome property. But one is bound to prefer public to
private interests, those that are enduring to those that are
mortal, and to be much more careful in securing one's
benefactions than one's property.

(19.)
To Pkiscus.

The illness of Fannia torments me. She contracted it
while nursing Junia the vestal virgin, originally of her
own accord (indeed they are related), and subsequently
being further commissioned to do so by the Pontifices ; for
the virgins, when compelled by violent disease to remove
from the court of Vesta's temple, are handed over to the
care and custody of married ladies. While Fannia was
carefully discharging the office in question, she became
involved in this peril. The attacks of fever stick to her,
her cough grows upon her, she is in the highest degree
emaciated and enfeebled. Only her great soul and spirit
— in every way worthy of her husband Helvidius and her
father Thrasea — retain their vigour ; all else is breaking
up in such a way as to prostrate me not merely with appre-
hension, but with grief as well. Indeed, I do grieve that
such an illustrious woman should be snatched from the
gaze of the country, which may perhaps never look upon
her like again. Oh, what purity was hers ! what holiness
of life ! what nobility of character ! what intrepidity of
soul ! Twice she followed her husband into exile, and a
third time was herself banished on her husband's account ;
for when Senecio was accused of having written certain

BOOK VII. 237

publications on tlie life of Helvidius, and had said, in the
course of his defence, that he had been requested to do so
by Fanuia, upon Mettius Cams asking her, in a menacing
tone,'' " whether she had so requested him," she replied,
" I did make the request." "Had she furnished him with
memoranda for the composition ? " "I did furnish him."
" Was this with the knowledge of her mother ? " " Without
her knowledge." In short, not a word did she utter that
quailed before the peril. Moreover, she preserved copies
of these very publications after the confiscation of her
property (though through the exigencies and the terror of
that epoch they had been suppressed by a decree of the
Senate), kept them, and carried into her exile the cause of
her exile.

At the same time she is so pleasant, she is so friendly,
and, in short — the privilege of but few — as lovable as she
is venerable. Will there be any woman left whom we
may hereafter point out to our wives ? Will there be
any one from whom we may take an example even
of manly fortitude ? whom, while we still see her
and hear her, we may admire as we do the women
one reads about ? Tor my part, it seems to me as
though her very house were tottering and about to fall
torn from its foundations — and this though she still has
descendants. For how great must be their virtues and
how great their deeds in order to make it clear that she
has not perished the last of her race ! And there is this
additional cause of affliction and torment for me, that I
seem to be losing her mother over again — that mother
of such a woman ; what more illustrious name can I give
her ? — whom Fannia, as she resembles and recalls to us,
so she will take away with her, afflicting me at one and
the same time with a fresh and a re-opened wound. I
frequented them both and cherished them both ; which of
them in a greater degree I know not, nor did they desire
that a difference should be made. They had my services
in prosperity and they had them in adversity. I was their

238 PLINY'S LETTERS.

consoler when tliey -were banished and their avenger when
they returned. Yet I did not fully acquit my debt to
them, and for this reason am all the more anxious that
Fannia should be spared in order that time may be left me
for payment. Such are the cares amidst which I have
written to you, and if any god shall turn them to joy, I
will not complain of my fright.

(20.)

To Tacitus,

I have read your book, and have noted with all possible
care what I thought ought to be altered and what left out.
For not only is it my habit to tell the truth, but it is also
yours to hear it willingly. Indeed, there are none who
submit more patiently to correction than those who are
most deserving of praise. And now, I am expecting from
you my book with your notes. What a delightful and
charming interchange ! How it rejoices me that, should
posterity take any heed of us at all, it will be universally
related in what concord, with what sincerity and fidelity
to each other, we lived. It will be a rare and memorable
thing for two men pretty nearly equals in points of age
and station, and not altogether without a name in litera-
ture (I am compelled, you see, to speak in somewhat scant
terms of you as well, inasmuch as I am speaking of my-
self at the same time), each to have furthered the studies
of the other. For my part, when I was but a stripling,
while you were already flourishing in renown and glory,
I yearned to follow after you — both to be accounted and
to be " second to you, though great the space between."
Yet there were in existence many men of brilKant genius ;
nevertheless you seemed to me, owing to the similarity of
our dispositions, to be the one most capable of being
imitated, and most worthy of imitation. I the more
rejoice then that, whenever the conversation turns on

BOOK VIL 239

intellectual pursuits, we are named together, that to
people speaking about you my name at once presents
itself. Not but what there are some who are preferred
to both of us. But it does not matter to me what place
is assigned us, provided we are thus conjoined ; for in my
estimation to come next to you is to be before all the rest.
Moreover, you must have noticed that in wills (unless a
testator should happen to be especially intimate with one
or the other of us) we receive the same bequests, and in
each other's company. All which goes to this, that our
mutual affection should be the more ardent when so many
are the bonds which constrain us by our studies, our
characters, our reputations, and, finally, by the last dis-
positions of mankind.

(21.)
To COENUTTJS.

I am all obedience, my dearest colleague, and am attend-
ing, as you bid me, to the weakness in my eyes. For I
came here in a close carriage, shut in on all sides as in
a bedroom, and am abstaining here — with difficulty, but
still abstaining — not only from the use of my pen, but
even from reading, and study only through my ears. By
drawing a curtain, I cause my chamber to be shaded
without being darkened. The cloister,* too, by covering
up the lower part of the windows, enjoys as much shade
as sun. In this way I am carefully learning by degrees
to bear the light. I take baths because they are of service,
and wine because it does me no harm — very sparingly,
however; so I have habituated myself, and now there is
some one by me to watch me.f

The present of a fowl, as coming from you, was most
acceptable; and though still weak of sight, I had eyes
sharp enough to see that it was an extremely plump one.

* Cryptoporticus. See ii. 17. t See vii. i.

240 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(22.)

To Falco.

You will be less surprised at my having been so per-
sistent in begging you to confer a tribuneship upon a
friend of mine when you know who and what he is. For
now that you have given me your promise, I am able to tell
you his name and to describe the personage, Cornelius
Minicianus is the man, an ornament to my native district
both in position and character. Of illustrious birth and
ample fortune, he is as much devoted to study as poor
men are wont to be.* At the same time he is a most
upright judge, a most undaunted advocate, and a most
faithful friend. You will think that a favour has been
conferred on you when you have made more intimate
acquaintance with a man who is at any rate equal (for I
do not wish to speak too boastfully of one who is himself
so modest) to any honours and to any titles.f

(23-)

To Fabatus, his Wife's Geandfathek.

While I rejoice at your being strong enough to go and
meet Tiro at Mediolanum,! yet that you may continue to
preserve that strength, I would beg you not to impose on
yourself so great a fatigue, which is opposed to the con-
sideration of your time of life. Nay, further, I enjoin on
you to wait for him at home, and, what is more, inside your
house, and even inside your chamber. For truly, since he
is cherished by me as a brother, he ought not to exact from
one whom I look up to as a father an attention which he
would have excused in the case of his own father.

* i.e., as those who are required, on him, he will be found, if not

by want of means, to labour at a pro- superior (for I don't wish to puff him

fession. unduly), at any rate equal to them.

+ The stress is on "equal" (jparem). J Milan, See vii, i6.
"Whatever honours may be conferred

BOOK VI I. 241

(24-)

To Geminus,

Ummidia Quadratilla is dead, wanting a little of eighty
years, but hale up to the time of her last illness, and with
a compactness and vigour of frame surpassing that of
matrons in general. She died leaving a will which re-
flected great credit on her. She made her grandson heir
to two-thirds, and her granddaughter to the remaining
third of her fortune. The granddaughter I know hut
slightly, the grandson I have the strongest regard for —
a youth of singular merit, and one who deserved to be
loved as a relation by others besides his blood connections.
In the first place, though conspicuous for personal beauty,
he escaped the gossip of the malevolent, both in boyhood
and youth. In his four-and-twentieth year he was a
husband, and, had the gods so willed it, would have be-
come a father. In the society of a grandmother addicted
to pleasure he lived a life of extreme steadiness, and yet
of compliance with her wishes. She had pantomimists in
her employ, and interested herself more warmly in them
than became a woman of her high rank. Neither at the
theatre nor at home did Quadratus witness the perform-
ances of these men, and she did not require him to do so.
I have heard her say herself, when commending to me her
grandson's studious pursuits, that being a woman, with
that want of occupation which is the lot of the sex, she
was in the habit of relieving her mind by a game of
draughts, or by watching the performances of her panto-
mimists ; but that whenever she was about to do either of
these things she always bade her grandson go off to his
studies ; and she seemed to me to do this from a sense of
v/hat was due to the youth as much as from her love for
him.

You will be astonished, and so was I. At the last
sacerdotal games, a contest of pantomimists having been

Q

242 PLINY'S LETTERS.

exhibited, as Quadratus and I were leaving the theatre
together, said he to me, " Do you know that to-day is the
first time I ever saw a freedman of my grandmother's
dancing!" Thus the grandson. But, by Hercules, per-
sons who were in no way connected with her, by way of
doing honour to Quadratilla — I am ashamed of having
said honour — rather by way of discharging their office of
toadies — were coursing about the theatre, and jumping
and clapping their hands, and admiring and imitating
every gesture for the benefit of their patroness, with an
accompaniment of sing-song. And now these persons will
receive the tiniest of legacies, as a gratuity for enacting
the part of claqueurs, from an heir who was never a spec-
tator of these performances.

I have told you all this, because, when anything fresh
turns up, you are in general not indisposed to hear it ;
next, because it is a pleasure to me to renew any subject
of joy by writing about it. And I do joy in the family
affection shown by the deceased and in the honour paid
to so excellent a young man. I am delighted, too, that the
house which formerly belonged to C. Cassius (the man
who was the chief and founder of the Cassian school)
should be in possession of an owner in no way his inferior.
Eor my friend Quadratus will worthily fill it and become
it, and once more restore to it its ancient dignity, celebrity,
and glory, since there will issue thence as great an orator
as Cassius was a jurisconsult.

(25.)
To EuFus.

What a number of learned men there are whom their
own modesty or the stillness of their lives conceals and
withdraws from fame ! Yet we, when about to speak or
read in public, stand in apprehension of those only who
advertise their learning, whereas such as hold their tongues

BOOK VII. 243

show to advantage by their silent reverence for the
noblest of pursuits. What I write is written from expe-
rience. Terentius Junior, after serving irreproachably in
the army, in Equestrian grades,* and also as Procurator of
the province of Narbonian Gaul, has retired to his estate,
preferring the prof oundest retirement to the honours which
awaited him. Having been invited to his house, I regarded
him as a worthy paterfamilias and a diligent farmer, and
was prepared to talk to him on subjects with which I
supposed him to be conversant. Indeed, I had begun to
do so, when he, with the most learned discourse, recalled
me to literature. How neatly he always expresses him-
self ! in what Latin, in what Greek ! He is so strong in
both languages that he seems chiefly to excel in the one he
happens to speak at the moment. How great his reading,
how great his memory ! You would think he lived at
Athens, not in a country-house. In short, he has added to
my apprehensions by causing me to be nervous in the
presence of these secluded and, so to speak, rough country-
folk no less than in that of those whom I know for men
of extensive learning. I advise you to the same effect.
For just as in camps, so also in this literary arena of ours,
there are a good many persons who, though not in uniform,
will be found on a close inspection to be girded and armed,
and that too wdth the sharpest of intellects.

(26.)
To Maximus.

The illness of a, certain friend lately reminded me that
we are best while we are sick. For what sick man is
tempted either by avarice or lust ? Such an one is not
the slave of his amours, has no appetite for honours, is
neglectful of riches, and holds the smallest portion of them
for enough, seeing that he is about to part with it. Then

* Commissions suitable to his equestrian rank.

244 PLINY'S LETTERS.

he remembers that there are gods and that he is a man ;
he envies no one, admires no one, despises no one ; not
even to malicious gossip will he pay attention or find food
in it. His dreams are of baths and fountains. These
form the sum of his anxieties, the sum of his aspirations ;
he proposes to himself an easy and comfortable existence
for the future, that is, a harmless and a happy one, if he
has the luck to escape. What philosophers strive to teach
with a multitude of words, and even in a multitude of
volumes, I am able, therefore, to lay down for your benefit
and my own thus briefly : in health we should continue
to be such as, in sickness, we promise that we shall be.

(2;.)

To SUEA.

Our leisure furnishes me with the opportunity of learning
from you, and you with that of instructing me. Accord-
ingly, I particularly wish to know whether you think
there exist such things as phantoms, possessing an appear-
ance peculiar to themselves, and a certain supernatural
power, or that mere empty delusions receive a shape from
our fears. For my part, I am led to believe in their
existence, especially by what I hear happened to Curtius
Eufus. While still in humble circumstances and obscure,
he was a hanger-on in the suite of the governor of Africa.
While pacing the colonnade one afternoon, there appeared
to him a female form of superhuman size and beauty.
She informed the terrified man that she was " Africa," and
had come to foretell future events ; for that he would go
to Eome, would fill offices of state there, and would even
return to that same province with the highest powers, and
die in it. All which things were fulfilled. Moreover, as
he touched at Carthage, and was disembarking from his
ship, the same form is said to have presented itself to him
on the shore. It is certain that, being seized with illness,

BOOK VI L 245

and auguring the future from the past, and misfortune from
his previous prosperity, he himself abandoned all hope
of life, though none of those about him despaired.

Is not the following story again still more appalling and
not less marvellous ? I will relate it as it was received
by me : —

There was at Athens a mansion, spacious and com-
modious, but of evil repute and dangerous to health. In
the dead of night there was a noise as of iron, and, if you
listened more closely, a clanking of chains was heard, first
of all from a distance, and afterwards hard by. Presently
a spectre used to appear, an ancient man sinking with
emaciation and squalor, with a long beard and bristly hair,
wearing shackles on his legs and fetters on his hands, and
shaking them. Hence the inmates, by reason of their
fears, passed miserable and horrible nights in sleeplessness.
This want of sleep was followed by disease, and, their
terrors increasing, by death. For in the daytime as well,
though the apparition had departed, yet a reminiscence of
it flitted before their eyes, and their dread outlived its
cause. The mansion was accordingly deserted, and, con-
demned to solitude, was entirely abandoned to the dread-
ful ghost. . However, it was advertised, on the chance of
some one, ignorant of the fearful curse attached to it, being
willing to buy or to rent it, Athenodorus, the philosopher,
came to Athens and read the advertisement. When he
had been informed of the terms, which were so low as to
appear suspicious, he made inquiries, and learnt the whole
of the particulars. Yet none the less on that account,
nay, all the more readily, did he rent the house. As
evening began to draw on, he ordered a sofa to be set for
himself in the front part of the house, and called for his
note-books, writing implements, and a light. The whole
of his servants he dismissed to the interior apartments,
and for himself applied his soul, eyes, and hand to com-
position, that his mind might not, from want of occupation,
picture to itself the phantoms of which he had heard, or

246 PLINY'S LETTERS.

any empty terrors. At the commencement there was the
universal silence of night. Soon the shaking of irons
and the clanking of chains was heard, yet he never raised
his eyes nor slackened his pen, but hardened his soul and
deadened his ears by its help. The noise grew and
approached : now it seemed to be heard at the door, and
next inside the door. He looked round, beheld and
recognised the figure he had been told of. It was standing
and signalling to him with its finger, as though inviting
him. He, in reply, made a sign with his hand that it
should wait a moment, and applied himself afresh to his
tablets and pen. Upon this the figure kept rattling its
chains over his head as he wrote. On looking round again,
he saw it making the same signal as before, and without
delay took up a light and followed it. It moved with a
slow step, as though oppressed by its chains, and, after
turning into the courtyard of the house, vanished suddenly
and left his company. On being thus left to himself, he
marked the spot with some grass and leaves which he
plucked. ISText day he applied to the magistrates, and
urged them to have the spot in question dug up. There
were found there some bones attached to and intermingled
with fetters ; the body to which they had belonged, rotted
away by time and the soil, had abandoned them thus
naked and corroded to the chains. They were collected
and interred at the public expense, and the house was
ever afterwards free from the spirit, which had obtained
due sepulture.

The above story I believe on the strength of those who
affirm it. What follows I am myself in a position to
affirm to others. I have a freedman, who is not without
some knowledge of letters. A younger brother of his was
sleeping with him in the same bed. The latter dreamt he
saw some one sitting on the couch, who approached a pair
of scissors to his head, and even cut the hair from the
crown of it. When day dawned he was found to be
cropped round the crown, and his locks were discovered

BOOK VI I. 247

lying about. A very short time afterwards a fresh occur-
rence of the same kind confirmed the truth of the former
one. A lad of mine was sleeping, in company with several
others, in the pages' apartment. There came through the
windows (so he tells the story) two figures in white tunics,
who cut his hair as he lay, and departed the way they
came. In his case, too, daylight exhibited him shorn, and
his locks scattered around. Nothing remarkable followed,
except, perhaps, this, that I was not brought under accusa-
tion, as I should have been, if Domitian (in whose reign
these events happened) had lived longer. For in his desk
was found an information against me which had been
presented by Carus ; from which circumstance it may be
conjectured — inasmuch as it is the custom of accused
persons to let their hair grow — that the cutting off of my
slaves' hair was a sign of the danger which threatened me
being averted.

I beg, then, that you will apply your great learning to
this subject. The matter is one which deserves long and
deep consideration on your part ; nor am I, for my part,
undeserving of having the fruits of your wisdom imparted
to me. You may even argue on both sides (as your w^ay
is), provided you argue more forcibly on one side than
the other, so as not to dismiss me in suspense and anxiety,
when the very cause of my consulting you has been to
have my doubts put an end to.

(28.)

To Septicius.

You say that certain folks have been finding fault with
me in your presence, on the ground of my praising my
friends immoderately at every opportunity. I plead
guilty to the charge, and even hug it to my breast. What
indeed can be more to one's credit than the sin of good-
nature ? Yet who are these people who know my friends

248 PLIN V 'S LE TTERS.

better than I do ? However, suppose they do so know
them, why grudge me a deception which is the cause of
so much happiness to me ? Tor though these friends be
not such as they are proclaimed by me, yet I am fortunate
in that they seem such to me. Let these persons, then,
transfer their mischievous assiduities elsewhere. There
is no lack of those who malign their friends under the
plea of criticising them, ife they will never persuade to
think that my friends are too much loved by me.

(29-)

To MONTANUS.

You will laugh, then you will be indignant, then you
will laugh again, when you read what, unless you do read
it, you never will believe. There stands on the road to
Tibur, this side of the first milestone — I noticed it quite
lately — a monument to Pallas,* thus inscribed : " To him,
the Senate, on account of his faithfulness and loyalty to
his patrons, decreed the Praetorian insignia and a sum of
fifteen million sesterces.f He was contented with the
honour merely." In truth, I have never marvelled to see
honours bestowed more frequently by fortune than by
discernment; yet this inscription strongly reminded me
how farcical and foolish are those which are at times
thrown away on such dirt and filth as this ; honours which,
to crown the matter, this gallows-bird was impudent enough
both to accept and to decline, and even, as a sample of
modesty, to exhibit to posterity. But why this indignation ?
It is better to laugh, that these rogues may not fancy they
have achieved any mighty result, when their good luck
has merely carried them to the point of being subjects for
laughter.

* A freedman and favourite of the Emperor Claudius.
t About £120,000.

BOOK VII. 249

(30.)

To Genitoe.

I am mucli distressed at your having lost, as you write
me word, a pupil of the highest promise. That his illness
and death have impeded your studies is of course obvious
to me, since you are so careful in the discharge of all
friendly offices, and love with so much effusion all those
who approve themselves to you. As for me, city business
pursues me even to this place. For there are not wanting
those who constitute me judge or arbitrator in their affairs.
To this must be added the complaints of the rustics, who
abuse my ears, as they have a right to do after my long
absence. Then there is a pressing necessity for letting
my farms, and a very disagreeable one, so rare is it to find
suitable tenants. For these reasons I study when I can
beg time ; still I do study ; for I both write and read
somewhat. Yet, when reading, I am made sensible by
the comparison how bad my own writings are ; though
you put good heart into me when you compare my treatise
in vindication of Helvidius to the oration of Demosthenes
against Midias. It is true that I had the latter in my
hands while engaged in composing the former; not with
the view of rivalling it (that would have been impudence,
and almost madness) ; yet, at any rate, with the view of
imitating and following it, as far as the divergence be-
tween the two intellects — between a very great and a
very small one — and the different character of my case
would permit.

(31.)

To COENUTUS.

Claudius Pollio desires your affection, and deserves it
from the very fact that he desires it, and next because he

2SO PLINY'S LETTERS.

loves you of liis own accord. And, indeed, none commonly
claims this kind of sentiment, save lie who himself experi-
ences it. He is, besides, a man of virtue and integrity,
free from ambition and modest to excess — if, however,
any one can carry modesty to excess. AYhen we served
together, I saw what he was made of, and that not merely
in the capacity of his comrade in arms. He commanded
a squadron of cavalry a thousand strong. I was ordered
by the Consular Legate to examine the accounts of the
squadrons and cohorts, in the course of which I discovered,
not only the extensive and filthy rapacity of certain
parties, but also the consummate integrity and scrupulous
industry of my friend. Promoted subsequently to the
most distinguished charges, he was seduced by no oppor-
tunity to deviate from his innate regard for disinterested-
ness. He was never puffed up by prosperity ; never by
reason of the variety of offices which he filled did he
detract ought from his unvarying reputation for kindli-
ness ; and he supported his labours with the same strength
of character as that with which he now bears his repose.
This repose, however, he has, for a short time, greatly to
his credit, broken in upon and laid aside, having been
called to assist our friend Corellius, in consequence of the
liberality of the Emperor Nerva, in the matter of buying
and distributing lands for the public. What a glory, to be
sure, to have especially attracted the choice of so dis-
tinguished a man, when there was such an ample field for
selection. For the regard and the fidelity with which he
cherishes his friends, you may trust to the last testamen-
tary dispositions of many among them, and of this number
Annius Bassus, a man of the highest respectability. The
memory of this Bassus he preserves and prolongs by
eulogies, which are, indeed, so full of gratitude, that he has
published (for letters too, as well as the other liberal arts,
are held in veneration by him) a volume containing his
life. A noble thing this, and one to be approved for its
very rarity, seeing that most people remember the dead just

BOOK VII. 251

so far as to complain of them.* This man, who, believe
me, is so eager for your friendship, I would have you
receive Avith open arms and cling to, ay, and welcome, and
so love him as though you were repaying a favour. For
in the office of friendship, he who has set the example is
not one to he placed under an obligation, but rather to
be remunerated.

(32.)
To Tabatus, his Wife's Gkandfathek.

I am delighted that the arrival of my friend Tiro was a
source of enjoyment to you ;-}- while, as to what you write
me word — that the occasion of a Proconsul's presence
having offered itself, a number of persons received their
freedom — I rejoice especially. For I desire that our
native place should be increased in all things, but prin-
cipally in the number of its citizens, since this forms the
surest embellishment of cities. This, too, pleases me —
not that I curry favour — but, at any rate, it does please
me, to see you add that both you and I were honoured by
the expression of thanks and by praise. For, as Xeno-
phon says, " Praise is the sweetest hearing," particularly if
you think you deserve it.

To Tacitus.

I augur, nor does my augury deceive me, that your
histories will be immortal, hence all the more (I will
candidly confess it) do I desire to find a place in them.
For if it is usually a subject of concern to us that our
countenances should be represented by the best artists,

* i.e., for not having been more member them just so far as to give

liberal to them in their wills. Queri vent to some empty lamentations."
is similarly used in viii. 18. Gierig f See Letters 16 and 23 of this

and Doering prefer the sense, "re- Book,

252 PLINY'S LETTERS.

ought "we not to desire that our deeds may be favoured
with a writer and eulogist such as you ? I will indicate to
you, then, a matter which cannot, however, have escaped
your diligence, since it is in the public records ; I will
indicate it, notwithstanding, that you may the more readily
believe how agreeable it will be to me if a deed of mine,
the credit of which was increased by its danger, should be
set off by your genius and your testimony.

The Senate had assigned me, in company with Herennius
Senecio, as counsel for the province of Bsetica, against
Bcebius Massa, and, on the conviction of Massa, had decreed
that his property should be in the custody of the state.
Senecio, having ascertained that the Consuls would be at
liberty to hear applications, came to me and said, " In the
same spirit of harmony in which we have carried out the
prosecution enjoined on us, let us go to the Consuls, and
beg them not to suffer the property to be squandered
which they ought to remain in charge of." I replied,
"As we were appointed counsel by the Senate, consider
whether our functions have not been discharged, now
that the Senate has concluded its investifration." Said he,
" Do you impose any limit on yourself that you choose,
since there is no tie between you and the province except
your own good service, and that a recent one. As for me,
I was both born and have served as a Quaestor in it."
Thereupon I replied, " If this be your fixed determination,
I will follow you, that if by chance any odium comes of
it, it may not be confined to you." We went to the
Consuls, and Senecio spoke what the matter comported,
to which I subjoined a few remarks. We had scarcely
.finished speaking, when Massa, crying out that Senecio
was satisfying, not his engagement as an advocate, but his
acrimony as a personal enemy, accused him of treason.*
All stood aghast. I, however, said, "I am afraid, most

* Jmpietas. Some of the commen- from being squandered, contained, or

tators suppose that an application to might be held to imply, a reflection

prevent the property (which was now on the Emperor (Domitian).
in the nominal charge of the public)

BOOK VII. 253

noble Consuls, tliat Massa by his silence mnst have
taunted me with collusion, in that he did not accuse me
too of treason." This saying of mine was immediately
taken up and afterwards much noised abroad. The late
Emperor Nerva (for even while in a private station he
paid attention to exhibitions of uprightness in public
affairs), in a very weighty communication which he
addressed to me, congratulated not only me, but the age,
on being blessed with an example (it was thus that he
wrote) of the antique kind.

All this, whatever its value, you will make better
known, more celebrated, of greater import, though I do
not require you to exaggerate what really took place.
For not only is history bound not to depart from truth,
but also for worthy deeds the truth is quite sufficient.

( 254 )

BOOK VIII.

To Septicius.

I HAVE got to the end of my journey comfortably, with
this exception, that some of my people have been rendered
ill by the scorching heats. Encolpius, indeed, my reader,
the delight of my serious as well as my sportive hours,
had his throat so irritated by the dust that he spat blood.
How sad this will be for himself, and how annoying to me,
if one whose whole charm was derived from his literary
pursuits, shall become unfitted for those pursuits ! More-
over, who will there be to read my small productions as
he does, and to take such a pleasure in them as he takes ?
However, the gods promise better fortune ; the spitting of
blood has ceased, and the pain has subsided. Add to this
that the salubrity of the climate, our country quarters,
our retired life, hold out as good a prospect of health as of
repose.

(2.)

To Calvisius.

Others set out for their estates that they may return
thence the richer ; I, that I may return the poorer. I had
sold my vintages to certain dealers, who had bought them
after a competition. They were attracted by the actual,
as compared with the prospective price, and their expecta-
tions deceived them. The simple course was to make an
equal remission all round ; but this would have been
hardly fair. Now to me it seems in the highest degree

BOOK VIII. 255

excellent, as abroad so at liome, as in great things so in
small, as in things foreign so in one's own, to be diligent
in the practice of equity. For if our sins be all of equal
importance, so must our good deeds be.* Accordingly, I
remitted an eighth part of the purchase-money, and that
to all, "that none should leave without my bounty
feeling ; " f next, I had regard, separately, for those
who had invested the largest sums in their purchases, for
these had at the same time profited me more, and them-
selves suffered a greater loss. Hence, in the case of those
who had bought for more than ten thousand sesterces,| to
the above eighth part, which was common to all, and, so to
speak, a public gift, I added a tenth part of the amount
by which they had exceeded the ten thousand. I am afraid
that I have not made myself sufficiently intelligible, and
will explain my way of reckoning more clearly. Suppose
any persons to have bought for fifteen thousand,§ these
would have got back not only an eighth of fifteen thousand,
but a tenth of five thousand. Further, on reflecting that
some had paid me a considerable portion of what they
owed, others a trifle, others nothing at all, it seemed to
me by no means just that those who were not on a level
in the discharge of their obligations should be put on a
level in regard to the favour of abatement.|| So, again, I
remitted to those who had made payments a tenth part of
that which they had paid. For this seemed the most
fitting means, with reference to the past, of requiting them
singly, in proportion to the deserts of each; and, with
reference to the future, of enticing them not only to buy
but to make payment. This calculation of mine, or this
act of complaisance (whichever it may have been), cost
me a large sum, but it was worth the outlay. For, through-

* This is a reference to the maxim of t Virgil, ^n. v. 305.
the Stoics that all sins are on a par. J About £80.
If this be so, says Pliny, it holds § About £120.
good of virtuous actions, which it || Or, 'by the generosity of my

therefore imports us to exhibit in remissions.'
small things as well as great, &c.

256 PLINY'S LETTERS.

out the whole district, both the novelty of this remission,
and also its form, are applauded. Even the people them-
selves, whom I treated, as the saying goes, not with one
and the same measuring-rule, but with distinctions and
gradations, left me all the more obliged to me, in pro-
portion to the rectitude and probity of each, having experi-
enced that it is not with me that —

" The good and bad an equal honour find." *

(3-)

To Spaesus.

You intimate that the book I last sent you is of all my
works the one which pleases you most. Such is also the
opinion of a friend of mine, a man of profound learning.
And this is an additional inducement to me to believe
that neither of you are mistaken, because it is not credible
that loth are mistaken, and because, in any case, I am
ready to flatter myself. For I desire that my latest
performances should always appear the most perfect, and
hence, even at this moment, favour — as against the above
book — an oration which I have lately published, and which
shall be communicated to you so soon as I shall find a
careful messenger. I have aroused your expectations,
which I fear that the oration, when you have it in hand,
will disappoint. Meanwhile, however, expect it as though
it would be sure to please you — and perhaps it may
please.

(4.)

To Canixius.

You do admirably in preparing to write of the Dacian
war. For where is the subject at the same time so recent,
so abounding in incident, so vast, in short, so poetical,

* Homer, Iliad ii, 319,

BOOK VIII. 257

and — tliou"li dealincr in events of the most real character
— so like fable ? You will tell of new rivers set flowing
over the earth,* new bridges thrown over rivers, mountain
precipices occupied by camps, of a king who had despaired
of nothing driven out of his palace, ay, and driven out of
his life ; besides this, of triumphs twice celebrated, one
having been the first over a hitherto unconquered people,
the other, the last.

The single drawback, yet an important one, is, that to
equal all this in description must be an immense and
arduous task even for your genius, rising though it does
to the loftiest heights, and growing in proportion to the
vastness of its undertakings. And there must be not a
little labour in this too, in preventing barbarous and
savage names (among the first, that of the King himself)
from showing their repugnance to Greek metre. But
there is nothing which skill and attention will not mitigate,
even though they may fail to overcome it. Moreover, if
it is permitted to Homer to contract, lengthen, and alter
names, both soft and Greek, to suit the smoothness of his
verse, why should not a similar licence be permitted to
you, particularly when it results not from affectation but
from necessity ? Accordingly, poet-fashion, having in-
voked the gods — and among them limi whose acts and
works and counsels you are about to relate — loosen your
ropes, spread your sails, and be carried on (if ever you
have been) by the full force of your genius ! Why
indeed may not I too deal poetically with a poet ? This
much I bargain for at once : you must send me all your
first fruits as soon as you have brought them to perfection ;
nay, rather, even before you have perfected them, just
as they are, all fresh and unformed, and still resembling
things at their birth. You will reply that what is taken

* Dio Cassius relates that Decebalus, channel. Trajan diverted it a second
the Dacian king, div^erted the course time and secured the treasure. The
of a river in order to buiy some commentators suppose this event to
treasures under its bed, and then be alluded to here.
caused it to revert to its former

R

258 PLINY'S LETTERS.

piecemeal cannot please equally with that which is
continuous, or what is rudimentary like that which is
complete. I know it. And therefore they shall be
judged of by me too as things merely begun ; they shall
be regarded as parts, and shall await your finishing
touches in my desk. Suffer me to have this pledge, in
addition to the others, of your friendship ; that I be made
acquainted even with such things as you would wish none
to be acquainted with. In short, it may be that I shall
admire and praise your writings more highly in proportion
as you are slow and cautious about sending them ; but I
shall love you more highly, and praise you more highly, the
greater your speed and the less your caution in doing so.

(5.)

To Geminus.

Our friend Macrinus has received a severe blow. He
has lost his wife, a model woman, even if she had lived
in old times. With her he spent thirty-nine years
without a quarrel and without offence. How great the
respect she paid her husband, while herself worthy of
respect in the highest degree ! How numerous, how
lofty the virtues, which, gathered from different ages,*
were assembled and united in her person. Macrinus
indeed has one great solace, in that he retained so great a
blessing for so long a time ; and yet, for this reason, he is
all the more embittered by the loss of it. For the enjoy-
ment of pleasures increases the pain of being deprived
of them. I am therefore in a state of anxiety about my
dear friend, till such time as he shall be able to admit of
being diverted from his sorrow and allow his wound to
heal. And this will be brought about by nothing so much
as by necessity itself, by lapse of time, and satiety of

grief.

* See vi. 26, which will best ex- young man in geniality, an elder in
pl.aia this, "a boy in candour, a seriousness ;" and again v. 16 init.

BOOK VIIL 259

(6.)
To MONTANUS.

You must have learnt by this time from my letter
how I lately remarked a monument to Pallas with this
inscription on it : " To him the Senate, on account of his
faithfulness and loyalty to his patrons, decreed the PrjE-
torian insignia and a sum of fifteen million sesterces. He
was contented with the honour merely.* Subsequently
it seemed to me worth while to hunt up the decree itself.
I found it, and it was so verbose and extravagant, that the
above extremely fulsome inscription seems modest and
even humble by its side. Let — I will not say the African!
and Achaici and Numantini of old — ^but the men that are
near to us, the Marii, Sullas, Pompeys (I will go no
further), — let these compare themselves with Pallas, and
they will fall short of the praises accorded to him. Am
I to suppose the men who thus decreed to have been
humourists, or cravens ? I would call them humourists
if such humour became a Senate. Cravens, then ? But no
one is in such a craven condition that he can be forced to
such acts. Was the cause, then, ambition and the yearn-
ing for advancement ? But who so demented as to wish
for advancement at the price of his own and the public
disgrace, in a society where the advantage to be derived
from the loftiest dignity should consist in being able to take
the lead in — eulogising Pallas in the Senate ? I pass by
the circumstance that the Prsetorian insignia are offered
to Pallas, though a slave, inasmuch as they are offered
by slaves. I pass by their decreeing " tliat he should not
only be exhorted, but actually compelled to the use of
golden rings ; " for it was opposed to the august dignity of
the Senate for a man of Prcetorian rank to wear iron ones
These are trifling matters, which may be passed over.
But this is noteworthy, that "on account of Pallas the

* See Book vii. Letter 29.

26o PLINY'S LETTERS.

Senate " (and the Senate-house was not purified after
this !) — " on Pallas's account tlie Senate returns thanks
to Caesar, in that his highness himself has bestowed the
most honorable mention on him, and has also accorded to
the Senate the faculty of testifying towards him its good
will." What indeed could be more glorious for the Senate
than that it should appear sufficiently grateful to Pallas ?
This is added : " That Pallas, to whom all of them, to the
best of each man's abilities, confess their obligations, may
enjoy, as he so richly deserves to do, the fruits of his
matchless integrity and his matchless energy." You
would suppose that the limits of the Empire had been
extended, that armies had been rescued for the State. To
this is tacked on, "Inasmuch as to the Senate and the
people no more agreeable occasion for their liberality could
be exhibited than the good fortune of being able to add to
the means of so disinterested and faithful a guardian of the
prince's revenues." This was at that time the aspiration
of the Senate, this was the chief delight of the people,
this was the most agreeable occasion for liberality: to
have the good fortune to add to the means of Pallas by
squandering the public revenues ! See what follows :
" That it had been the wish of the Senate, for its part, to
decree to him a sfift of fifteen million sesterces out of the
treasury, and the more his mind was remote from desires
of this kind, the more earnestly did they pray the Father
of the State to compel him to yield to the Senate."
This, to be sure, was alone wanting : that Pallas should
be dealt with by public authority ; that Pallas in person
should be entreated to yield to the Senate ; that Caesar
himself should be called in to plead against this arrogant
self-denial, and to prevent his spurning the fifteen million
sesterces. Spurn them he did — the only way in which,
after the public offer to him of so vast a sum, he could
show his arrogance still more than by accepting it. Yet
the Senate, in a tone of complaint, praised even this act
in the following words : " But inasmuch as the most

BOOK VII L 261

excellent Prince and Father of the State, at the request of
Pallas, has willed that that portion of the decree which
related to the grant to him out of the treasury of fifteen
million sesterces should he annulled ; the Senate hereby
witnessed, that albeit it had of its own good will, and in
accordance with his merits, initiated a decree of the above
sum, among the other honours, to Pallas on account of his
integrity and diligence ; yet, as they do not deem it law-
ful to set themselves against the will of their prince in.
any matter, so in this matter too they submit themselves
to it."

Picture to yourself Pallas interposing his veto, as it
were, on the decree of the Senate, and restricting the
honours paid to himself ; refusing the fifteen millions as
too much, after accepting the Prtetorian insignia as of
smaller account. Picture to yourself Csssar complying
with the prayers, or rather the commands, of his freed-
man in presence of the Senate, for the freedman commands
his patron when he is able to petition him in the Senate.
Picture to yourself the Senate continually witnessing that
it had initiated a decree of this sum, among the other
honours, to Pallas, in accordance with his merits and its
good will, and that it would have persevered in its inten-
tion if it had not been for its compliance with the prince's
will, which it was not lawful to set one's self against in
any matter. So then, in order that Pallas should not
carry off the fifteen millions from the treasury, his own
modesty and the compliance of the Senate were requisite,
which latter, in this particular case, would not have com-
plied if they had thought it lawful not to comply in any
matter whatever.

Do you think this is the end ? Wait a bit and hear
something still stronger. "And inasmuch as it is of
advantage that the gracious disposition of the prince,
ever prompt to honour and reward the deserving, should
be everywhere exhibited to view, and chiefly in those
places where the persons charged with the administration

262 PLINY'S LETTERS.

of his affairs may be stimulated to imitation, and where
the highly proved faithfulness and integrity of Pallas
may by his example provoke a zeal for laudable emulation ;
the message read by the most excellent prince before this
most honourable house on the tenth day before the
Kalends of February last past, together with the decrees
passed by the Senate on these matters, shall be inscribed
on brass, and the brass in question shall be affixed to the
statue in armour of the late Emperor Julius." It did not
seem enough that the Senate-house should witness such
disgraceful proceedings ; a place of great resort was selected
for publishing them, where contemporaries should read
them, and posterity as well. It was decided that the
brass should be inscribed with all the honours of this
haughty slave, both those wliich he repudiated and those
which (as far as those who decreed them were concerned)
he had borne.* The Praetorian insignia of Pallas were cut
and carved on public and enduring monuments, just for
all the world like ancient treaties, just like sacred laws !
Such was the — how to name the quality I know not — of
the prince, of the Senate, of Pallas himself, that they
wished to have affixed before the eyes of all, Pallas his
impudence, Cassar his submissiveness, the Senate its base-
ness. Nor was there any shame felt in veiling this in-
famy with a show of reason — an exquisite and admirable
reason to be sure ! — that on the strenoth of the rewards

o

bestowed on Pallas the others might be provoked to the
zeal of emulation ! So cheap were honours held, even
those which Pallas did not disdain. Yet there were
found persons of respectable birth who sought for and
deshed what they saw given to a freedman and held out
to slaves. How glad I am that I did not fall upon those
times, of which I am just as much ashamed as if I had y\

lived in them. Nor do I doubt that you will be similarly

* The allusion is to the Praetorian one Avho really had discharged the
insignia, which lie accepted. Tlie Prsetorship.
Senate put him iu the position of

BOOK VIII. 263

impressed, for I know you have the soul of an honest man
and a freeman. Hence you will he the more ready to
think that, though I may have carried my indignation in
certain places to a height unsuitable to a letter, yet my
complaints are rather below than above the mark.

To Tacitus.

Not as one master to another, nor again " as one disciple
to another" (for so you write it), but as master to a disciple
— for you are the master, I the opposite ; more than that,
you are recalling me to school, while I am still prolonging
my holidays — have you sent your book to me. Come, now,
could I have produced a more topsy-turvy sentence than
the above ? * — by this very means proving that I am one
who ought not to be called, let alone your master, even
your disciple. However, I will take on me the part of
master, and exercise on your book the right you have
bestowed on me, and all the more freely that I am not
going to send you in the meanwhile any writing of mine
for you to revenge yourself upon.

(8.)

To EOMANUS.

Have you seen, at any time, the source of the Clitum-
nus ? If you have not as yet — and I fancy you have not,
for otherwise you would have told me of it — go and see
what I (and I am ashamed of having been so slow
about it) lately saw. There rises a hill of moderate size,
wooded and shaded by ancient cypresses, at the base
of which the spring emerges, forced out through many

* Num potui longius hyperhaton sent your book,' wliicli are awkwardly

facere ? ' Could I have carried the kept till the end of the sentence. The

figure of Hyperhaton (or transposi- humour of this is, of course, miser-

tion) further?' The allusion is to able, like all Pliny's ponderous at-

the words librum misisti, 'have you tempts at facetiousness.

264 PLINY'S LETTERS.

but unequal channels, and after struggling tlirougli a
troubled pool of its own formation, opens out to tlie view
with broad expanse, clear and transparent, so that you are
able to count the small coins thrown into it and the
glistening pebbles. Thence it is impelled, not by the
slope of the ground, but by its own very abundance, and,
as it were, weight; now but a source, now already a
noble river, and one actually capable of bearing ships,
which, even when they come in opposite directions, and
with contrary effort are holding a different course, it
suffers to pass each other, and carries on their way. Such
is the strength and rapidity of its current, though over a
plane surface, that it is not assisted by oars, and, when it
is faced, it is only with extreme difficulty that it can be
overcome by oars or punt-poles. It is an agreeable change
for those who are afloat for sport and pastime to vary toil
by repose or repose by toil, according as they shift their
course. The banks are clothed with a quantity of ashes
and poplars, which the transparent river reflects in succes-
sion by so many green images, just as though they were
submerged in it. The coldness of the water might vie
with that of snow, and its colour does not yield to that
of snow.

Hard by is a temple ancient and venerable. Clitumnus
stands there in person, clothed and adorned with the prse-
texta. Oracular responses indicate the prophetic power in
addition to the presence of tlie divinity. Scattered around
are a number of chapels and as many gods. Each of
these has his own worship and his own name, some of
them even their own springs. For besides that spring,
which is, as it were, the parent of the rest, there are
smaller ones, separated from the fountain-head, but never-
theless flowing into the river, which is spanned by a
bridge. This marks the boundary between what is sacred
and what is open to ordinary use. Above bridge naviga-
tion only is permitted; below, one may bathe as well.
The people of Hispellum, to whom the late Emperor

BOOK VIII. 265

Augustus assigned this locality, furnisli baths at the
public expense, and they also furnish lodgings. Nor is
there a lack of villas, which, owing to the attractions of
the river, stand on its borders. In short, there will be
nothing there from which you may not derive pleasure ;
you will even be able to study, and will read a variety of
productions by a variety of people, inscribed on every
column and every wall in honour of the spring and the
god. Many of these you will approve of, some you will
laugh at — and yet, no ; you, with your usual good-nature,
will laugh at none of them.

(9.)

To Uesus.

For a long time I have taken neither book nor pen in
hand. For a long time I have not known what rest is or
repose, or, in short, that state, so idle yet so agreeable, of
doing nothing and being nothing. To such a degree do
the multitude of my friends' affairs debar me from seclu-
tion and study. For no studies are of such importance
that the office of friendship should be abandoned on their
account — indeed, that this office should be most religiously
guarded is a matter wdiicli is taught us by these very
studies.

(10.)

To Fabatus, his Wife's Geandfather.

The stronger vour desire to see great-grandchildren of
yours born of us, the more you will grieve to hear that
your granddaughter has had a miscarriage, while, girl-
like, she did not know that she was with child, and, in
consequence, omitted certain things which should be
observed by women in that state, and did other things
which should have been omitted. She has expiated her

266 PLINY'S LETTERS.

mistake at the expense of a great lesson, having been
brought into extreme peril. Hence, while you must
necessarily be grieved at your old age being deprived of
descendants, who had been, so to speak, prepared for you,
yet you ought, at the same time, to thank the gods who
refuse you great-grandchildren for the present, in such a
way as to preserve the life of your granddaughter, and
who will yet bestow on you those great-grandchildren, the
expectation of whom is made surer by this very fruitful-
ness of my wife, though, to be sure, it has been ascertained
under rather unfavourable circumstances. I am now
exhorting, admonishing, and confirming you by the same
methods as I employ towards myself. Nor, indeed, can
great-grandchildren be desired by you more ardently than
are children by me, children to whom I think myself des-
tined to bequeath, on your side and on my own, an easy
road to honours, names widely known, and family images
which will endure. May they only be born, and turn
this sorrow of ours into joy !

(II.)

To HiSPULLA.

When I think of your affection for your brother's
daughter, surpassing in tenderness even the indulgence of
a mother, I feel that I ought to begin by announcing what
ought to come later, in order that joy may take first
possession of you and so leave no room for anxiety. And
yet I am apprehensive that, even after rejoicing, you will
return to your fears ; that, while delighted at Calpurnia's
being freed from peril, you will shudder at the same time
at her having been imperilled. She is cheerful noiv, and
restored to herself and to me ; she begins to regain
strength, and by her progress towards recovery to measure
the crisis she has passed through. She was, in fact,* in
the most critical condition (this be said without evil

* Alioqui here seems equivalent to the French " du reste."

I

BOOK VII L 267

omen !), through no personal fault, rather through some
fault due to her age. Hence her miscarriage, and the sad
proofs of an unsuspected pregnancy. Accordingly, though
it has not been your good fortune to assuage your regret
for your lost brother by means of a grandson or grand-
daughter of his, yet remember that is a blessing which is
delayed rather than denied, since she is safe from whom
we may hope for it. At the same time excuse to your
father a mishap which women are always more prepared
to look on with indulgence.

(12.)
To MiNICIANUS.

I must beg to be excused for just this one day. Titinius
Capito is going to recite, and I hardly know whether it be
more my duty or my desire to hear him. He is an excellent
man, and one to be numbered among the special illus-
trations of our age; he cultivates literature, and loves,
cherishes, and advances men of letters ; he is the port, the
harbour, the place of refuge for a number of those who do
anything in the way of composition ; an example to all ;
lastly, a restorer and reformer of letters, which are now in
their decline. He lends his house to people who recite,
and frequents audiences — and that not merely at his own
abode — with rare good-nature ; me certainly, provided he
is in town, he has never failed. Besides, the nobler the
incentive to gratitude, the more shabby it would be not to
show one's self grateful. Pray, if I were harassed by legal
proceedings, should I consider myself bound to one who
appeared to my recognisances ; and now, because all my
business, all my care is with literature, shall I be less
obliged to one who frequents me with so much assiduity,
in a matter which, if not the only one, is certainly the most
important one which can lay me under an obligation ?
Yet, if I owed him no return, no mutual good office, so to
speak, yet I should be attracted either by the genius of

268 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the man, wliicli is so admirable, so grand, so gentle even
when most serious, or else by the noble character of his
theme. He is writing of the deaths of illustrious men,
and among them of some who were very dear to me. I
seem, then, to be discharging an office of piety when, in
the case of those whose obsequies I could not attend, I am
present at what may be termed their funeral eulogies,
which, though late in time, are on that account all the more
truthful.

(I3-)
To Genialis.

I approve of your having read my little books in com-
pany with your father. It pertains to your advancement
to learn from a man of the highest eloquence what deserves
praise and what censure, and, at the same time, to be so
trained as to learn to speak the truth. You see whom you
ought to follow, in whose footsteps you ought to tread.
Happy fellow ! who have had the luck in one and the
same person to meet with a model so excellent and so
nearly related to you ; * who, in short, have liim to imitate,
above all others, whom nature willed that you should
most resemble.

(14.)

To Apjsto.

As you are so deeply versed in civil and constitutional
law -f- (of which senatorial law forms a part), I desire to

* Cui contiriit unum atque idem opti- Jus privatum may be rendered by

mum et covjunctissimum exemplar. " the laws relating to the transac-

Keil has vivum atque idem, &c. The tions of citizens as between them-

former seems the reading of thelMSS., selves," and jus publicum, "the laws

and I think it may stand, though (as relating to transactions in which the

Gesner points out) it would be more commonwealth is concerned." For

usual to write cui con tig it ununi opti- full information on this subject, see

mum atque idem conjunctissimum ex- Mr. George Long's excursus on

emplar. " Judicia" in his edition of Cicero's

f Privatum jus et publicum. These Orations, vol. i.
terms cannot be exactly rendered.

BOOK VIIL 269

learn from you particularly whether I did or did not
make a mistake in the Senate on a recent occasion, that
I may be instructed, not with a view to the past (for it
would be too late for that), but to the future, should any-
thing of a like kind present itself.

You will say, " Wliy inquire about what you ought to
know ? " Because the slavery of past times has introduced
a certain oblivion and ignorance, as well of all other ex-
cellent sciences, so also of senatorial law. For few have
the patience to be willing to learn what they will never
have to practise. Add to this, that it is difficult to retain
what you Tiarn learnt unless you do practise it. Thus it
happened that the restoration of liberty surprised us in an
untrained and inexperienced condition, and, enflamed by
her charms, we are obliged to do certain things before we
are masters of them. On the other hand, it was the
ancient usage that we should learn from our elders, not
only through our ears, but through our eyes as well, what
we ourselves should presently have to do, and, by a kind
of succession, to hand down to our juniors. Hence strip-
lings were forthwith inured to service in the camps, that
they might be habituated to command by obedience, and to
act the part of leaders while learning to follow. Hence
such as were to be candidates for public offices stationed
themselves by the doors of the Senate-house, and were
spectators of the national council before becoming members
of it. Each had his own father for an instructor, or to
him who had no father the oldest and most illustrious
citizens stood in the place of one. What are the privileges
of those who introduce motions, what the rights of those
who pronounce on them, what the power of the magistrates,
and the liberty accorded to the remaining Senators, where
to yield and where to resist, what is the time for silence
and what the limit of speech, how to distinguish between
the parts of a conflicting proposition, how those who
would add anything to a previous proposal may execute

270 PLINY'S LETTERS.

their purpose ; in short, the whole practice of the Senate
was taught by example, the surest mode of instruction.

Yet we, when youths, were, to be sure, in the camps. Yes,
but at a time when prowess was suspected and inactivity
was prized ; when the leaders were without authority and
the soldiers without shame ; when the supreme control was
nowhere and obedience nowhere ; when all things were in
a state of solution and confusion, and even inversion ; in
short, of a character to be forgotten rather than remem-
bered. We also had a view of the Senate, but a cowering
and speechless Senate, at a time when it was dangerous to
speak according to one's wishes and vile to speak against
them. What could be learnt at such a period ? and what
could be the advantage of learning ? when the Senate was
summoned either to fall into a profound sleep or to sanc-
tion some atrocious villany, and, detained now for the
purpose of exciting laughter, now for that of inflicting pain,
pronounced decisions which were never serious, though
oftentimes sad.

These same evils we witnessed and endured for many
years after we had ourselves become senators and sharers
in them, by which means our intellects were •permanently
dulled, broken, and bruised. It is but a short time (every
time is short in proportion as it is happy) since we have
learnt with pleasure what we are, and can practise with
pleasure what we know. And this gives me a greater right
to ask, first, that you will pardon my mistake, if there be a
mistake ; next, that you would apply to it your remedial
learning, whose care it has always been to investigate con-
stitutional in the same way as civil law, what is ancient in
the same way as what is modern, what is rare equally with
what is common. And indeed I am of opinion that the
kind of point which I am submitting to you was either not
very familiar, or else actually unknown in practice to those
predecessors of ours whose constant and varied experience
left them in ignorance of scarce anything. Hence, not
only shall I be the more readily excused if I have chanced

BOOK VIII. 27 I

to trip, but you will be the more entitled to credit if you
can instruct me on a point which it is uncertain to me
whether you have studied.

The debate was about the freedmen of Afranius Dexter,
the Consul, who had perished either by his own or his
servants' hands, either through their crime or their
obedience to liis commands, it is uncertain which. As
to these persons, one senator (" Who ? " you ask. It was
I ; but this is of no consequence) opined that, having been
put to the question, they should be exempted from
punishment ; a second, that they should be banished to an
island ; a third, that they should suffer death. So great
was the difference between these proposals, that they could
only be taken singly. For what is there in common be-
tween putting to death and banishing ? ISTothing more, by
Hercules, than between banishing and acquitting. Though,
to be sure, a proposal for acquitting is somewhat nearer to
one for banishing than w^ould be a proposal for putting
to death, since both the former leave life untouched,
while the last takes it away. Yet, meanwhile, those who
were for the punishment of death and those who were for
banishment sat together, and by a temporary simulation
deferred the discord which underlay their concord. I
demanded that the proper number of these three proposi-
tions should be established, and that two of them should
not be joined together in a short truce. Hence I insisted
that those who were for the infliction of the capital penalty
should leave the side of those who were for banishment,
and that those who were shortly about to differ among them-
selves should not in the interim be united in opposition to
the party who were for an acquittal ; because it was of
very little consequence that they disagreed with the same
proposal, seeing that they had previously agreed to diffe-
rent ones. This too seemed to me particularly strange,
that while he who had pronounced for banishing the
freedmen and inflicting the last penalty on the slaves had
been compelled to divide his vote, yet he who was for

272 PLINY'S LETTERS.

punishing the freedmen with death should be told off
amoncr those who were for banishins^ them. For if it had
been right that the proposition of one should be divided,
as comprehending two different things, I could not dis-
cover in what way the propositions could be joined to-
gether of two persons who pronounced themselves so
differently. And indeed permit me — in your hearing
precisely as there, and though the question is settled pre-
cisely as though it were still alive — to give you the rea-
sons for my opinion, and to put together now at my ease
what I then threw out disjointedly amidst many stormy
interruptions.

Let us suppose three judges in all to have been assigned
to this cause, and that the decision of one of these had
been that the freedmen should die ; of the second, that
they should be banished ; of the third, that they should be
acquitted. Pray, should two of these opinions, by their
united strength, destroy the last ? Or, taken separately,
should not each of them be worth just what the other is, so
that the first can no more be connected with the second
than the second with the third ? It results that, in the
Senate as well, votes ought to be reckoned as being opposed
to each other, which are given as being different from each
other. What if one and the same man were to pronounce
for death and banishment ? would it be possible for these
persons both to die and to be banished in accordance with
this single vote ? Indeed, could that be considered one
vote at all which conjoined things so diverse ? How, then,
when one pronounces for punishing them with death, and
another for banishing them, can that appear to be one vote
because it is pronounced by two, wliich would not appear
one vote if it were pronounced by one ? What ! does not
the law clearly teach that the votes for death and those
for banishment should be separated, when it orders
divisions to be taken in this manner : — " Those who are
of this opinion to this side; those who are of any other

BOOK VIII. 273

opinion* to the side wliicli accords witli your opinion."
Examine tliese words singly and weigh tliem. " Those
who are of this opinion," that is to say, who think the
men should be banished, " to this side " — that is to say, to
the side on which the senator who has made the motion
for banishment is sitting. From this it is clear that tliose
who are in favour of putting them to death cannot remain on
the same side. " Those who are of any other opinion." You
observe that the law, not content with saying " other," has
added to it " any." Can there be a doubt, then, that those
who put to death hold an entirely different opinion from
those who banish ? " To that side which accords with your
opinion." Does not the law itself seem to call, to compel,
to drive, those who differ to the opposite side ? Does not
the Consul, even, point out to every one, and that not
merely in the customary form of words, but with his hand
and by his gestures, the place where he is to remain or to
which he is to pass over ? " But it will happen that if
the votes for death and those for banishment be divided,
the vote in favour of acquittal may prevail," What does
this matter to the persons voting ? It certainly does not
become them to strive by every art and every calculation
to prevent a more merciful decision from being carried.
" It is proper, in any case, that those who are for the death
penalty and those who are for banishment should first be
compared with those who acquit, and afterwards with each
other. As, for example, at certain of the shows, some
individual is separated and reserved by lot to compete
with the victor, so in the Senate there are certain first
and second trials of strength, and the one of two proposals
which comes out victorious is waited on by a third." l^eed
I say that if the first proposal be carried the remaining
ones are put an end to ? How, then, can propositions be

* Qui alia omnia sentitis was really takes it here in the way most suitable
a euphemism for " You who are of a for his ai'gument.
contrary opinion." Pliuy, however,

S

274 PLINY'S LETTERS.

joined on a common ground* for which no place can be
found subsequently ? To repeat this more clearly, when
the motion for banishment is made, if those who are for
death do not at once go to the other side, it will be in vain
that they will differ at a subsequent stage from those with
whom they have voted just before. t

But why do I seem to be teaching when I want to learn
whether these motions should have been divided, whether
they should have been gone into singly ? To be sure I
obtained what I demanded ; none the less, however, do I
ask whether I ought to have made the demand. In what
way was it obtained ? Why, the senator who had moved
that the extreme penalty should be inflicted (overpowered,
I do not know whether by the legality, but certainly by
the equity of my demand), threw up his own motion, and
went over to the side of him who was for banishment :
fearing, no doubt, that if the motions were taken separ-
ately— and, but for his action, it seemed likely that they
would be — the one for acquittal would obtain a majority.
And, indeed, there were many more of that one party than
in either of the other two taken singly. Then those
senators, too, who were led by his authority, thus left to
themselves after he had gone over, abandoned a proposal
which had been forsaken by its own author, and followed
in his species of desertion the person whom they followed
in his lead. So out of three proposals two resulted, and
of these two one prevailed, tlie third being extinguished,
which, as it could not overcome the two others, had to
choose by which of the two it would be defeated. |

* Unus atque idem locus. I omit % A German critic has remarked of

no?i before tmrjs, with Gierig. thia epistle, " Tlie very great pro-

t Pliny means that if the motion fusion of words with which a simple

for punishment is put, and those who question is treated shows scanty

are for death — instead of going over, jjractice in business-like habits."

as they should do, to the side of alin (Teuffel, "Eoman Literature," §335).

omnia, viz., those who hold any other It may be added that the letter gives

opinion — vote on the side of those a very poor opinion of the Senate ;

who are for banishment, they ought all this verbiage about a point which

henceforth to ba bound by that vote, an English schoolboy would at once

BOOK VII L 275

(15.)

To Junior.

I have laid a burden on you by the despatch of so many
volumes at once. However, I have burdened you, in the
first place, because you had insisted on my doing so, and,
in tlie next place, because you had written to me that the
vintage was so slender in your parts as to make me see
very clearly that you would have leisure (as the common
phrase runs) " to pluck a book." * We have the same
announcement from my own small estates. Consequently,
on my side too, I shall be able to write something for you
to read, if only paper can be bought anywhere. Should it
be rough or porous, I shall either have not to write at all,
or shall perforce make a smudge of whatever I write,
be it iiood or bad.

O"

(16.)

To Paternus.

I am prostrated by the ailments of my servants, by
deaths among them, too, and of young ones into the
bargain. I have two consolations, by no means on a par
with the greatness of my sorrow, still consolations. One
ia my readiness in setting them free (for I do not seem to
have lost quite prematurely such as had already gained
their freedom when I lost them) ; the other is, that I
permit even my slaves to make quasi-testamentary dis-
positions, observing these just as though they were legal
documents. They enjoin and request whatever they
choose, and I obey as if under orders. They distribute,

determine ! The first question to be penalty arose, " Eauishment or

put to the Senate was clearly "guilty death ? "

or not guilty." In the event of *ie7ere?i6»'Mm, apunon the double

"guilty" carrying the day (as it sense of ?eirc)-e, " to gather " and " to

seems would have been the case in read," which cannot well be rendered

this instance), the question of the in English.

276 PLINY'S LETTERS.

give, and bequeath — at least, within the limits of the
household. Tor to slaves the household is a kind of state,
and stands in the place of a community.

Still, though soothed by these consolations, I am dis-
pirited and broken by reason of the identical humanity of
disposition which has prompted me to these same conces-
sions. Yet I would not on that account be made harder,
while not ignoring that others style mishaps of this sort a
pecuniary loss and nothing more, and hence seem to them-
selves great and wise men. As for these, whether they be
great and wise, I cannot tell ; men they are not. For it
is the part of a man to be affected by grief, to feel, yet at
the same time to bear up and to admit of consolation, not
to be in no need of consolation. However, about all this
I have said more perhaps than I ought, yet less than I
wished. There is, indeed, a certain pleasure even in grief,
particularly if you weep into the bosom of a friend who
is prepared to bestow on your tears either his approval or
his pardon.

(17-)
To Macrinus.

Is the weather as rough and unsettled with you as it is
with us ? Here we have constant storms and a succession
of inundations. The Tiber has exceeded its channels, and
is flowing hicrh over its less elevated banks. Though its
force is weakened by an outlet which the Emperor, in his
great forethought, has constructed, yet it covers the
valleys and pours over the fields, and where the surface is
flat it presents itself to the eye in the place of the surface.
Hence it forces backwards, as thouo;h it went to meet
them, the streams which it usually receives and carries
down in combination, and by this means covers, with
waters not its own, a country which it does not itself
touch. The Anio, most charming of rivers, and which on
that account had seemed as it were to be invited by and

BOOK VIII. 277

made to slacken its course near the villas on its banks *
lias destroyed and carried off in great part the woods
that overshadowed it. It has undermined hills, and,
impeded in many places by the mass of falling debris,
■while seeking its lost way, it has thrown down houses,
and risen and swept over their ruins. Those who on
loftier ground were not caught by the tempest in question
beheld in one place the appliances of wealth and costly
furniture ; in another, agricultural implements ; here,
cattle, ploughs, herdsmen; there, the loose herds left to
themselves, and among these objects the trunks of trees,
or the rafters and roofs of villas, all drifting in wide variety.
ISTor, indeed, have even those localities to which the river
did not ascend been exempted from damage. For, in
lieu of the river, there was a continuous downpour, and
whirlwinds were precipitated from the clouds, the fences
surrounding valuable enclosures were overthrown, public
monuments were shaken and even toppled down. Many
persons were disabled and overwhelmed and crushed by
accidents of this description, and loss of property has
been aggravated by mourning.

I am apprehensive that something of the same kind
in a proportionate degree may have imperilled you where
you are : and I beg you, if there has been nothing of the
sort, to have regard to my anxiety with all possible speed.
But, if there e'en has been, announce that, just the same.
For the difference is but trifling between suffering mis-
fortunes and anticipating them ; except, however, that
there is a limit to grief, while there is no limit to fear.
Our grief is indeed proportioned to what we know to
have happened : our fears to what may happen.

* Another, and perhaps a better, beauty of the villas. In the render-
way of taking this is "The Anio, ing in the text, the villas are attracted
most voluptuous (delicatissimus) of by the beauty of the Anio, and invite
rivers, and which on that account it. The former accords better with
had seemed to be attracted by and delicatissimus, " most voluptuous,
to linger near the villas on its banks." most wanton." But either form of
Here the Anio is attracted by the this poor conceit will stand.

278 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(1 8.)
To EUFINUS.

False, without doubt, is the vulgar belief that the wills
made by men reflect their characters, since Domitius
TuUus has shown himself a far better man at his death
than in his life. For thouQ;h he had held himself out as
a bait to fortune-hunters, he left as his heiress a daughter
who was common to himself and his brother, that is to
say, she was his brother's child and he had adopted her.
Upon his grandsons he bestowed many very acceptable
legacies, and even one on his great-grandson. In short,
all his dispositions are replete with just affection, and
they seem all the more so in that they were unexpected.
Accordingly, various are the comments which are being
made all over the city : some speak of him as a hypocrite,
without gratitude and without memory, and, while they
inveigh against him, betray their own selves by their
disgraceful avowals, complaining * as they do of a man
who was a father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, just
as though he had been childless : others, on the contrary,
laud him in this very particular that he has frustrated
the impudent expectations of men whom thus to deceive,
in the present state of society, is an act of prudence.
They even add that he was not free to leave any other
will behind him ; for that he did not so much bequeath
property to his daughter as restore that by which he had
been enriched through the medium of this same dauejhter.
For, Curtilius Mancia, detesting his son-in-law, Domitius
Lucanus (the brother of TuUus), constituted the daughter
of the latter — his own grandchild — his heiress, subject to
the condition of her having been emancipated from the
control of her father. Her father had emancipated her,
upon which her uncle had adopted her, and the intention

* See vii. 31 and note.

BOOK VIII. 279

of the will having been cheated in this fashion, one
brother — they being joint-owners of theu' estate — got the
emancipated daughter back under the parental authority
of the other brother, thanks to his fraudulent adoption,
and that too with the most extensive property.

In other cases it seemed as it were the fate of these
brothers to become rich even against the strongest incli-
nations of those who had made them so. Indeed, Domi-
tius Afer, who adopted them, left a will declared before
witnesses eighteen years previously, and so highly dis-
approved by him at a subsequent period that he caused
their father's property to be confiscated. Strange, ruth-
lessness on his part, and strange good fortune on theirs !
Euthlessness in him to cut off from the roll of citizens a
man who was his partner in such a matter as that of
children : good fortune for them to have as successor in the
place of father the very man who had taken off their father.
But this property derived from Afer, together with every-
thing else which he had acquired in company with his
brother, Tullus was bound to transmit to the daughter of
his brother, who had constituted him sole heir and pre-
ferred him to his daughter, in order to conciliate his
favour. The more praiseworthy is this will which affection,
good faith, and honour have dictated ; in which, finally,
all degrees of relationship are acknowledged according to
their several obligations, and acknowledgment is made
to the testator's wife as well. She takes some charming
country residences and a large sum of money, does this
most excellent and long-suffering of wives : ay, and one
who deserved all the better of her husband in proportion
as she was blamed for marrying him. For this lady, who
was of illustrious birth and spotless character, in the de-
cline of life, after a long widowhood, and having aforetime
borne children, was thought to have acted with no very
good taste in prosecuting a marriage with a rich old man,
such a prey to disease that he might well have been an
object of disgust even to a wife whom he had wedded in

22o PLINY'S LETTERS.

his youth, and strength. In fact, he was crippled and
powerless in all his limbs, and could enjoy his vast wealth
with his eyes alone : nor could he move on his couch even,
save by the help of others. Moreover (indelicate as well
as pitiable to relate) he had his teeth washed and brushed
for him. He was often heard to say himself, when com-
plaining of the miseries forced on him by his infirmities,
that he " daily licked the fingers of his slaves." Yet he
lived on, and desired to live, kept up principally by his
wife, who, by her steadfastness, had turned her fault in
entering on such a marriage into a source of glory.

You have now all the talk of the town, for TuUus con-
stitutes all the talk. The sale of his effects is looked for.
Such indeed were his stores, that he has adorned the most
extensive gardens, on the same day that he bought them,
with statues in great profusion and of great antiquity; he
had as many works of the highest art lying neglected in
storerooms. In your turn, if there be anything in your
parts worth a letter, don't think it a trouble to write. For
not only are men's ears gladdened by news, but also we
are instructed by examples to regulate our lives.

(19.)
To Maximus.

My delight and my solace is in literary pursuits. There
is nothing so joyful that it is not made more joyful,
nothing so sad that it is not made less sad, through their
means. Hence, when disordered by the sickness of my
wife and the critical condition of my servants — indeed, by
the deaths of some of them — I fled for refuge to mv one
comfort in sorrow — my studies. These furnish me with a
keener sense of misfortunes, but at the same time with
the power of bearing them more patiently. Now, it is my
habit, when proposing to give anything to the public, to
test it previously by the help of my friends' judgment, and

BOOK VIIL 28 1

above all of yours. Accordingly, now, if ever, apply your-
self to the book which you will receive with this letter ; for
I fear that / in my sorrowful condition have not sufficiently
applied myself to it. I was indeed able to command my
grief so far as to write, but not so as to write with a dis-
engaged and cheerful mind. Now, as joy is the profit
derived from letters, so do letters in their turn derive a
profit from cheerfulness.

(20.)

To Gallus.

Objects such as we are in the habit of undertaking
journeys and traversing the sea to make acquaintance
with, we neglect when they are situated under our eyes ;
whether it has been so provided by nature, that, while
careless of what is close to us, we run after what is distant,
or because the desire for all objects languishes where the
opportunity is easy ; or else that we defer, as being sure
to see them often, sights which it is given us to enjoy
whenever we choose. Whatever be the reason, there are
a quantity of things in our city, and the neighbourhood of
the city, which we do not even know by hearsay, let alone
eyesight. Yet if Achaia, Egypt, Asia, had produced these,
or any other land fruitful in marvels, and giving them
repute too, we should have heard all about, and read all
about and explored them. What, at any rate, I had never
heard of or seen, I for my part lately heard of and saw at
the same time.

My wife's grandfather had pressed me to make an in-
spection of his estate near Ameria. As I was going over
it, a lake lying under us was pointed out to me, named
Vadimon ; at the same time some incredible circumstances
connected wiih it were related. I reached the lake itself.
It is rounded into the shape of a horizontal wheel, regular
on all sides, without a bay or obliquity of any kind ;

282 PLINY'S LETTERS.

^verytliing is measured to scale and even, as tliougli
hollowed and cut out by the hand of an artist. The
colour of the water is lighter than dark blue but deeper
than bluish green.* It has an odour and a taste of sulphur,
and the healing property of mending broken articles.f
Its size is small, yet such that it can feel the winds and
swell into waves. There is no ship on it (for it is sacred),
but floating on it are islands, all of them grassy with
reeds and rushes, and other herbage which the swampy
soil in its productiveness, or the banks of tlie lake them-
selves, bring forth. Each of them has its individual shape
and dimensions, but all have their outer edges worn, in
consequence of frequently striking either against the shore
or against each other, and so rubbing and getting rubbed.
All of them are of a like elevation and buoyancy, since
their roots descend but a little way below the surface,
after the fashion of a ship's keel. These roots can be seen
on every side, suspended and at the same time submerged
in the water. Occasionally these islands are joined and
coupled together, resembling a continent ; occasionally
they are dispersed by discordant winds ; not unfrequently,
left to themselves, they float in single tranquillity. Often
the smaller ones hang on to the lar^rer, like little boats on
to ships of burden ; often larger and smaller ones take to
a trial, as it were, of each other's speed ; then, again, all of
them, driven upon the same part of the shore, form, where
they have stopped, a promontory, and, sometimes here,
sometimes there, conceal or restore to view portions of the
lake. It is only when they are in the middle that they
do not contract its circumference. It is certain that cattle
in pursuit of herbage are in the habit of advancing into
these islands, fancying them the edge of the lake, and do
not perceive that the soil is moveable till reft from the

* Viridi pressior. This might be sior, supposing part of a word to be

easily altered into viridior et pressiur, -wanting. Pressior is not very clear,
the reading of some MSS. by a tran- f Medica vis qua fracta solidantur.

scriber. Keil prints viridi * or etpres- Sulphur was similarly used.

BOOK VIII. 2S3

shore — put on board and shipped, so to speak — they see
with affright the lake all round them : presently going
ashore wherever the wind has carried them, they no
more know that they have disembarked than they knew
that they had embarked. This same lake discharges itself
into a river, which, after presenting itself to the eyes for
a short time, loses itself underground, and flows on out of
sight. If anything has been thrown into it before its
disappearance it will preserve and reproduce the object.

All this I have written to you, believing that it would
be no less new and no less agreeable to you than it was to
me. For as with me, so with you, too, nothing is so delight-
ful as the works of nature.

(21.)

To Aerianus.

Just as in life, so in literature, I deem it the most
excellent course, and the one most in accord with human
nature, to mingle the grave with the gay, lest the former
should degenerate into morbidness and the latter into
sauciness. Led by this consideration, I vary my more
serious works with sportive and jocular effusions. For
the production in public of these latter, I chose the most
fitting time as well as place, and — that they might with-
out delay grow accustomed to a hearing from persons with
nothing else to do, and at the dinner-table — in the month
of July (when, for the most part, there is an interval of
rest from the lawsuits), I arranged my friends with seats
furnished with desks in front of the dining-couches. It
so chanced that, on the morning of that day, I was unex-
pectedly called to assist a friend in court, and this
furnished me with a ground for making some prefatory
remarks. For I entreated that no one would charge me
with want of respect for the work in hand, because, when
intending to recite (even though only to friends, and to a

28 1 PLINY'S LETTERS.

small audience, which means to friends again), I had not
refrained from the courts and from business. I added
that, even in the matter of my writings, I followed this
order of preferring duty to pleasure, the serious to the
agreeable, and of writing for my friends first, for myself
afterwards.

My book was composed of various little pieces, in
various metres ; for thus it is that we who have not
much confidence in our genius are wont to avoid the risk
of surfeiting people. I recited two days. The approval
of my audience exacted this of me ; and yet, though other
readers skip certain parts, and take credit for skipping
them, I pass over nothing, and even aver to my audiences
that I pass over nothing. Indeed, I read the whole that
I may correct the whole; and this cannot be the case with
those who recite extracts. But, you will say that the
latter course is more modest, and perhaps more respectful.
Yes ; but the former is the more straightforward and the
more friendly. For he is friendly who thinks the friend-
ship felt for him to be such that he is not in dread of
being wearisome. Otherwise, what is the use of intimates
if they only come together for the sake of their own
amusement ? He is a mere fop, and resembles a stranger,
who would rather hear his friend's good book than make
it a good one.

I do not doubt that, in accordance with your usual
affection for me, you will desire to read, as soon as
possible, this newly compounded book. You shall read
it, but in a revised form, for this was the object of my
recitation. Yet you are already acquainted with many
parts of it. These, subsequently either improved, or —
which occasionally happens through long delay — altered
for the worse, you will discover again, in a new form as it
were, and rewritten. For where many changes have been
made, even what is left seems to have undergone a change
likewise.

BOOK VIII. 285

(22.)

To Geminus.

You know tliem, don't you, those men who, slaves to
every evil passion, are as indignant at the vices of others
as though they envied them, and who are for punishing
most severely the persons whom they imitate most closely ;
whereas, even to those who need no one's indulgence,
nothing is more becoming than leniency. More than this,
I esteem him the most excellent and the most faultless
who so forgives others as though he himself sinned daily,
and so abstains from sins as though he forgave no one.
Accordingly let us hold to this, in private, in public, in
every relation of life; to be implacable to ourselves and
easy of entreaty even to those who are unable to make
allowances for any but themselves. Let us commit to
memory what one of the mildest, and, on that account,
among others, one of the greatest of men, Thrasea,
used frequently to say " He who hates vices hates
mankind."

You will perhaps ask what has moved me to write
thus. A certain person recently — but it will be better to
tell you when we meet ; and yet, on second thoughts, not
even then. For I fear that by inveighing against and
censuring and recapitulating what I disapprove, I may be
violating the very precepts which I am giving at this
moment. Let the man, whoever and whatever he is, be
nameless ; by making him known, example would profit
nothing ; by leaving him unknown, good-nature will profit
much.

(23.)
To Marcellinus.

All literary pursuits, all serious occupations, all amuse-
ments, have been banished, driven out, rooted from my

286 PLINY'S LETTERS.

mind by the poignant grief which the death of Julius
Avitus has caused me. It was at my house that he put on
the Latus Claims* I assisted him with my support when
he was a candidate for office ; add to this, that he so loved
and revered me that he treated me as the moulder of his
character — as his master, so to speak. A rare thing this
in the case of our young men. For how few of them will
yield, as being inferior, either to the age or the authority
of another ? They are all at once wise ; they all at once
know everything ; they revere no one ; they imitate no one,
and are indeed themselves their own models. Not so
Avitus, whose chief wisdom was in esteeming others wiser
than himself, whose chief erudition was in his desire to
learn. He was always seeking some advice, either on the
subject of his studies or the duties of life, and he always
went away with a sense of being made better. And so
he was, either from what he had heard, or at any rate from
having inquired. What deference he paid to that most
accomplished man Servianus, when the latter was Legate
and he was military tribune. He so appreciated and at
the same time captivated Servianus that in his march
across from Germania to Pannonia he followed him, not as
being one of his army, but as a companion and personal
attendant. Such was his industry, such his unassuming
character, than in his capacity of Quaestor he was no less
pleasant and agreeable than useful to his Consuls, of
whom he served several. How active, how indefatigable
he was in his pursuit of this very office of ^dile, from the
enjoyment of which he has been prematurely snatched
away ! And this it is which greatly aggravates my grief.
There present themselves to my eyes his vain labours and
fruitless applications, and the honour which he succeeded
in deserving only. There returns to my mind that Latus
Clavus assumed in my house ; those first, those last efforts
of mine on his behalf; the discourses, the consultations
which we held together. I am touched by his own

* See Book ii. Letter 9. It was assumed in some cases, with the toga virilis.

BOOK VIII. 287

youtli ; I am touched by the misfortune suffered by his
family.

He had a mother of great age, a wife whom he had
married in her maidenliood a year before, a daughter
not long born to him.* So many hopes, so many joys did
a single day turn to mourning ! Just nominated ^Edile,
a new-made husband, a new-made father, he has left
behind him a dignity never assumed, a childless mother,
a widowed wife, an infant daughter who never knew her
father. My sorrow is augmented by the fact that it was
during my absence from him, and when I was unprepared
for the impending misfortune, that I learnt at one and the
same time his illness and his decease. Such is my anguish
while writing on this subject, and on this subject alone.
For indeed just now I can neither think nor speak of any-
thin<T else.

o

(24.)

To Maximus.

My affection for you compels me, not to instruct you,
for indeed you need no instructor, yet to remind you to
bear in memory and practice what you already know, else
it were better unknown. Eeflect that you are sent to the
province of Achaia, that true and genuine Greece, in which
civilisation, letters, and even the fruits of the earth, are
believed to have been discovered ; that you are sent to
order the status of free communities — that is, to men
who are in the highest sense men, to freemen who
are in the highest sense free, who have preserved their
natural rights by their virtues, their services, their friend-
ship for us, and, lastly, by compacts and religious sanctions.
Eespect the gods, their founders, and the names of their
gods. Eespect their ancient glory, and their very age

* Quam paulo ante sustiderat, liter- Roman custom of laying the child at
ally, " whom he had recently taken up the father's feet.
from the ground," in allusion to the

i

288 PLINY'S LETTERS.

itself, venerable in the case of men, sacred in the case of
cities. Let their antiquity, their great deeds, their fables
even, find honour with you. Rifle nothing from any man's
dignity or liberty, or even vainglory. Keep before your
eyes that this is the land which sent us our legislation,
which gave laws, not to the conquered, but to those who
asked for them ; * that this is Athens to which you go ;
that this is Lacedsemon which you govern: that to rob
these of the shadow still left them, and relics of their
liberty, would be harsh, cruel, and barbarous. You see
that doctors — although in sickness there is no difference
between slave and free — yet treat freemen with greater
tenderness and consideration. [Bear in mind what each
community has been, not (with the view of despising it)
wliat it has ceased to be. Far from you be all arrogance
and asperity. Do not be afraid of contempt. Can he be
contemned who holds the supreme power and the fasces,
unless he be a mean, paltry creature, who begins by con-
temning himself. Power tries its strength ill by injuring
others ; veneration is ill acquired by terror ;3nd love is
far more efficacious for obtaining one's ends than fear.
For, fear vanishes when you have taken your departure,
love remains ; and as the former turns to hatred, so does
the latter to reverence. You, for your part, ought
assuredly again and again (for I will repeat myself) to call
to mind the title of your office, and to interpret for your
own self what and how great a matter it is "to order
the status of free communities." Tor what can be
more to the interest of the citizens than order of
goverrunent ? Or what more precious than freedom ?
Again, what a disgrace if order be exchanged for
anarchy and freedom for servitude ! Add to this, that you
have yourself for a rival ; you are weighted by the admir-
able report of your Qucestorship which you brought back
from Bithynia ; you are weighted by the testimony of the

* An allusion to tlie despatch of for the purpose of being instructed in
ambassadors from Pvome to Greece the laws of Solou, tc, a.u.c. 300.

BOOK VIII. 2S9

Emperor, by your Tribuneship and your Praetorship, and
by this very legation wbich has been conferred on yon as
a kind of recompense. Hence you must the more earnestly
strive that you be not reputed to have acted with greater
courtesy, integrity, and judgment in a distant province
than in a nearer one ; among those who are our subjects
than among freemen ; when despatched by lot than when
despatched by the result of deliberate choice ; when inex-
perienced and unknown than when tried and approved ;
since, as you have often heard and read, it is, in a general
way, more disgraceful to lose reputation than not to
acquire it.

I beg you to believe (as was said at the beginning) that
I have written all this by way of reminder and not of
instruction. And yet, after all, by way of instruction too.
I am not afraid, forsooth, of having exceeded the limits of
affection ; nor, seeing that affection should be so strong, is
there any danger of its being excessive.

( 290 )

BOOK IX.

To Maximus.

I HAVE often recommended you to issue with all speed
the productions you have composed whether, in your own
defence, or against Plauta — or rather both in your own
defence and against him, for so the occasion required — and
now, especially, having heard of his death, I strongly
urge, as well as recommend you, to the same effect. For,
although you have read them and given them to read to
many, yet I would not have any person whatever suppose
that you have begun only after his decease what in fact
you had completed in his life-time. Let your reputation
for intrepidity be intact. And so it will be, if it be known
to friends and foes that it was not merely after your
enemy's death that the courage to write was born in you,
but that you were quite ready for publication and were
only forestalled by his death. At the same time you will
avoid the reproach

" Unjust are all the insults o'er the dead." *

For that which has been written and read aloud on the
subject of a living person, if published, even after his
decease, is published, as it were, against a person still
living, provided this be done at once. Consequently, if you
have anything else in hand, lay it aside for the time. Put
the finishing touch to this work, which to me, who have
read it formerly, seems long since complete ; however, let
it now seem so to you too, since not only does the matter

* Homer, Odyssey xxii. 412.

BOOK IX. 291

itself require no delay on your part, but a consideration
of the particular juncture should cut all delay short.

(2.)
To Sabinus.

You are very obliging in pressing me not only for fre-
quent letters, but for very long ones into the bargain. I
have been somewhat chary in this matter, partly from a
regard for your avocations, partly from my having been
myself much engrossed by matters, in general of small
interest, which, however, at the same time distract and
weary the attention. Besides, I had no materials for
writing more. Nor, indeed, is my situation the same as
that of M. Tullius, whose example you invite me to f oUow.
For not merely was he gifted with a most prolific genius,
but events in great variety and of great importance
supplied that genius with abundant material. How
narrow are the limits in which / am enclosed, you well
know, without my telling you, unless haply I should wish
to send you letters of the school-exercise kind, and from
the shade of the closet, if I may so express it. But
nothing, to my mind, could be less apposite, when I think
of your arms, your camps, in fine, your horns and trumpets
and sweat and dust and burning suns.

You are now furnished, as I think, with a reasonable
excuse, and yet I am not sure that I should wish it to be
approved by you. For it is a sign of the highest affection
to refuse to make allowance for the shortness of one's
friends' letters, even although one may know that it can
be satisfactorily accounted for.

(3-)
To Paulinus.

Different men have different ideas on the subject, but I
for my part deem that individual the most fortunate who

292 PLINY'S LETTERS.

enjoys to the full the foretaste of a noble and enduring
fame,, and, assured of posthumous reputation,* lives in the
company of his future glory. And, for me indeed, if the
prize of immortality were not before my eyes, the usual
snug and sound repose would be my choice. For I suppose
it is the duty of all men to think of themselves as either
immortal or mortal; in the former case, certainly, to contend
and to exert themselves ; in the latter, to keep quiet, to
repose themselves, and not to fatigue their short existence
by fleeting efforts ; as I see many do, who, by a wretched
and at the same time thankless appearance of activity,
only attain in the end to a contempt for themselves. All
this, which I say daily to myself, I now say to you, that
I may leave off saying it to myself, if you dissent ; though
to be sure you, in your character of one who is always
meditating some great and immortal work, will not
dissent.

(4.)
To Mackinus.

I should be afraid you would think the oration, which
you will receive with this letter, of immoderate length, if
it were not of such a kind as to seem to have many be-
ginnings and many endings. For under each separate
charge is contained as it were a separate cause. So, at
whatever point you begin, or at whatever place you leave
off, you will be able to read what next follows both in the
light of a new commencement and a connected sequel,
and so to pronounce me, if extremely long as to the whole,
yet extremely short as to the separate parts.

* Certus posterifatis, "With his this sense of " determined on ; " but

purpose set on posthumous fame." — the rendering in the text is^simpler,

Prichard and Bernard's "Selected and, I think, better.
Letters of Pliny." Certus often has

BOOK IX. 293

(5-)

To TiKO.

You are acting admirably (I have been enquiring about
you, as you see), and pray persevere, in commending your
love of justice to the provincials by much kindly considera-
tion ; the chief part of which consists in surrounding with
your regard all the most respectable citizens, and being so
loved by the smaller folk that you may at the same time
be approved by the leading people. For many, while they
are apprehensive of seeming to give in too much to the
interest of the powerful, obtain a reputation for ill-breed-
ing, and even for ill-nature. Of this fault you have kept
yourself well clear; I know it. Nevertheless I cannot
refrain from bestowing praise on you, under the guise of
advice, for maintaining a due mean, so as to preserve the
distinctions of ranks and dignities; for, if these are
confounded, disordered, and intermingled, nothing can be
more unequal than this very equality.

(6.)

To Calvisius.

I have been passing all this time between my writing-
tablets and my books in the most delicious calm. " How-
ever," you ask, " have you been able to do this in town ? "
The Circensian games were on, — a species of exhibition
which does not attract me even in the faintest degree.
There is no novelty, no variety about them, nothing which
one is not satisfied with having seen once only. This
makes me all the more astonished that so many thousands
of persons should have such a childish desire to see, over
and over again, horses running, and men standing in
chariots. If, at least, they were attracted by the speed of
the horses or the skill of the men, there would be some
reason in the thing. As it is, it is a bit of cloth that they

294 PLINY'S LETTERS.

applaud, a bit of cloth that they love, and if during the
race itself and in the very heat of the contest such and such
colours were to change wearers, the favour and applause
of the public would change over with them, and the very
drivers, the very horses whom they know from afar and
whose names they shout out, would all at once be deserted.
Such is the influence, such the importance, of a con-
temptible jacket ! I say nothing of the vulgar, itself
more contemptible than the jacket; but such is the case
with certain persons of standing. When I remember that
these can settle down so insatiably to what is so inane,
insipid, and tedious, I take some pleasure in the fact that
I am not taken by this pleasure.* So, I employ in litera-
ture my idle hours, throughout these days which others
waste in the idlest of occupations.

(70

To EOilANUS.

You write that you are engaged in building. 'Tis well.
I have found my defence; for I build with reason the
moment that I do so in your company. Indeed there is
this further resemblance between us, that you are building
by the sea-side, and I by the Larian Lake. There are
several villas of mine on the shore of this lake, but two
of them, while they greatly delight me, exercise me in an
equal degree. One of them, placed on the rocks, after the
fashion of Baise, overlooks the lake ; another, similarly
after the fashion of Baiae, is at the edge of the lake.
Hence I am in the habit of calling the former " Tragedy,"
and the latter " Comedy," because one is supported as it
were by a high buskin, and the other by a low sock.-f-
Each of them has its special charm, which their very
diversity renders more agreeable to the possessor of both.

* This jingle is in the original, + Co^^Mrnus, the high boot worn ia
Capio aliquam •voluptaiem, quod hac tragedy. Socculus, the slipper ■worn
voluptate non capior. in comedy.

BOOK IX. 295

One enjoys a nearer, the other a more extended view of the
lake ; one, with a gentle curve, embraces a small bay, the
other, situated on a lofty crag, separates two small bays
from each other ; there a promenade stretches for a long
way, in a straight line, along the shore, here it gently curves
in the sha,pe of a spacious terrace-walk ; one of them does
not feel the waves, and the other breaks them. From the
former you can look down on the people fishing, from the
latter you can fish yourself, and throw your line * from
your room, and actually from your sofa almost, just as from
a skiff. These are my reasons for adding to each what is
wanting, in view of the superabundant advantages already
enjoyed by both. But why enter into reasons with you ?
It will stand for a good reason with you that you are doing
the same thing.

(8.)

To AUGUPJNUS.

If, after you have praised me, I shall begin to praise
you, I am apprehensive of seeming to be repaying a favour
rather than profiering a judgment. Yet, though it should
seem so, I esteem all your writings to be admirable ;
chiefly, however, those which are about me. This happens
owing to one and the same cause ; for not only do you
write exceedingly well on the subject of your friends, but
I too, as I read, find what is written on the subject of
myself exceedingly good.

(9.)
To Colon us.

I particularly applaud you for being so grievously
affected by the death of Pomponius Quintianus, that you
prolong your regard for the lost one by means of your
regrets ; not like so many who care only for the living, or

* Literally, " your hook."

296 PLINY'S LETTERS.

rather pretend to care for them, and indeed do not even
pretend, except in the case of those whom they see to be
prosperous. For they forget the unfortunate, no less than
if they were dead. But your faithfulness is unfailing, and
your constancy in love such that it can be ended only by
your death. And, by Hercules, Quintianus was a man who
ought to be cherished on the strength of his own example.
He loved the successful,* defended the wretched, mourned
for the lost. What nobility in his mien to start with !
What deliberation in his speech ! How evenly balanced
his severity and his playfulness ! What his love for let-
ters ! What his judgment ! How dutifully did he live
with a father most unlike himself ! How the fact of his
being the best of sons was no hindrance to his seeming the
best of men ! f But why do I aggravate your grief ? Yet
you so loved the young man that you would rather have
this, than that silence should be kept about him, particu-
larly by me, by whose commendation you think that his
life may be illustrated, his memory prolonged, and that
very youth, from which he has been snatched, restored to
him. J

(10.)

To Tacitus.

I am desirous of obeying your precepts, yet such is the
scarcity of wild boars that Minerva and Diana (who,
according to you, should be worshipped in company) can-
cannot be brought together. So Minerva alone must be
served ; gingerly, however, in a manner suitable to retire-
ment and the summer-time. On my road I worked out a

* Or, prosperous : in English, as him, as in duty bound, yet without

well as in Latin, this sounds like an being suspected of sharing in his vices,

ambiguous compliment ; but the J The sense is obscure. Perhaps

meaning seems to be: He did not equivalent to "he may be restored

envy them. to us with the appearance of youth

+ The meaning seems to be that he he wore when he left us."
lived with his father and cherished

BOOK IX. 297

few tliinrrs — unmistakeable trifles that deserve to be atonce
blotted out — with the kind of garrulity with which talk is
scattered about in carriages. I have made some additions
to them at my country house, as I did not choose to write
anything else. Hence my poetry — which you think can
be most suitably turned out among groves and woods — is
dormant. I have retouched one and another of my small
orations. Yet this kind of work is ungrateful and dis-
pleasing, and resembles rather the labours than the plea-
sures of the country.

(II.)

To Geminus.

I have received yours, which has been most agreeable
to me, and especially so from your wishing something to
be addressed to you such as might be inserted in the
Books of Letters.* Material for this will turn up ; either
precisely that which you indicate, or in preference some-
thing else; for in the case of the former there are several
objections. Cast your eyes round, and they wiU occur to
you. I did not think there were booksellers at Lyons,
and was all the more pleased to learu from your letter
that my works have a ready sale there. I am rejoiced
that such favour as they have acquired in town, continues
to attend them abroad. Indeed, I begin to think that my
productions must be tolerably finished, when, in regions
so diverse, the judgments of men so widely separated from
each other are yet in harmony about them.

* Libris. Some books of Pliny's had asked Pliny to write him a

Letters had, it appears, already been letter such as might be published

published. Geminus, wishing his in a future volume,
name to appear in the collection,

2^8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

(12.)

To JUNIOK.

A certain person was chiding his son for being somewhat
too extravagant in his purchases of horses and dogs. Said
I to him, when the young man had left us, " Harkee ! "
have you never done what might have been rebuked by
your father ? Have done, do I say ? Do you not some-
times do that which your son, if he were suddenly turned
into your father and you into his son, might reprehend
with the like severity ? Are not all men led by some
error or other ? Does not one man indulge himself in one
respect, and another in another ? " Admonished by this
example of excessive severity, I have, in accordance with
our mutual affection, thus written to you, lest you too
should at any time treat your son too sharply and rudely.
Reflect, not only that he is a boy, but that you have been
one, and so use this your position of father as to remember
that you are both a man and the father of a man.

(I3-)

To QUADRATUS.

In proportion to the interest and attention with which
you have read the books composed by me, on the subject
of the vindication of Helvidius, is the eagerness of your
demand that I should write to you in detail on such
matters as are not contained in the books, and on such as
bear reference to them, in short, as to the whole process of
an affair which you were too young to be personally
interested in.

After Domitian had been put to death, I deliberated
within myself, and resolved that here was a great and
noble opportunity for pursuing the guilty, vindicating the
unfortunate, and bringing one's self into notice. Further,

BOOK IX. 299

among the numerous crimes of numerous people, none
seemed more atrocious than that, in the Senate, a Senator
should have laid hands on a Senator, a man of praetorian
on a man of consular rank, a judge on an accused person.
Independently of this, there was a friendship between
myself and Helvidius as intimate as there could be with
one who, through dread of the times, hid in seclusion his
great name, and the great qualities which matched it. I
was a friend, too, of Arria and Fannia, one of whom
was Helvidius's stepmother, and the other that step-
mother's parent. But I was not so much incited by
private obligations as by public justice, by the disgraceful
character of the deed, by a consideration of the example
to be made.

Accordingly, during the first few days of restored
liberty, every one on his own account had been at once
impeaching and crushing his own private enemies (at
least the smaller ones) with a confused and turbulent
clamour. I, for my part, deemed it a more temperate and
also a more courageous course to attack a monstrous
criminal, not by means of the popular resentment of the
day, but by means of his own individual crime. So, as
soon as that first impulse had sufficiently cooled down,
and fury growing daily feebler had come back to a sense
of justice — though I was at that time particularly sad,
having lately lost my wife — I sent to Anteia, the widow
of Helvidius, and asked her to come to me, since my still
recent bereavement kept me within doors. On her arrival,
" It has been decided," said I, " by me, not to suffer your
husband to remain unavenged. Announce this to Arria
and Fannia " (they had returned from exile). " Consult
yourself, consult them, as to whether you wish to parti-
cipate in an action in which I need no associate ; yet I
am not so solicitous about my own glory as to grudge you
a share in it." Anteia conveyed the message, and the
ladies did not hesitate. The Senate, very opportunely,
was to meet within three days.

300 PLINY'S LETTERS. •

' I always referred everything to Corellius, knowing liim
for the most far-seeing and wisest man of our time. On
this occasion, however, I was content with my own
counsel, fearing that he would put his veto on it, for he
was inclined to hesitation and caution. But I could not
prevail on myself to refrain from intimating to him, the
same day, what I was about to do in a matter about which
I was not deliberating, having learnt by experience that,
where you have made up your mind, it is best not to
seek advice from those whose advice you would be bound
to obey.

I attended the Senate, begged leave to speak, and spoke
for a short time with the greatest approval. When I
began to touch on the charge, and to hint at a person to
be charged (yet still without naming him), there came
reclamations from all sides. Said one, " Let us know who
it is that you are accusing out of order ! " Another, " Who
can be charged before being put in accusation by the
Senate ? " A third, " Spare us who survive ! " I heard
them without perturbance or dismay ; such strength Kes
in the goodness of one's cause ; and so great a difference
does it make in the way of giving you confidence or
frightening you, whether people do not like what you are
doing, or do not approve of it. It would be tedious to
recount everything that was thrown out from one quarter
and another. Last of all the Consul said, " Secundus,
when you are called on for your vote, you will be able to
speak if you choose." I replied, " You will have accorded
me a permission, which up to this time you have accorded
to every one." I resumed my seat, and other business
was transacted.

Meanwhile, one of my friends of consular rank deeming
me to have advanced myself with too much daring and
rashness, reproved me in some private and anxious words,
recalling me, and warning me to stop. He went so far as
to add, " You have made yourself a marked man in the
eyes of future Princes." " So be it," said I, " provided

BOOK IX. 301

they are bad Princes." Scarce had he departed, when
again another, " What daring is this ? Whither are you
rushing ? What dangers are you throwing yourself in
the way of ? Why trust to the present state of things,
while uncertain as to the future ? You are attacking a
man who is already Praefect of the Treasury, and who will
shortly be Consul; a man, besides, supported by such
interest and such connections ! " He named a certain
person, who at that time commanded a powerful and
renowned army in the East — not without strong and
suspicious rumours being connected with him. To this
I answered, "All Pve foreseen, and each event have
weighed ? * Nor will I refuse, if fortune shall so bring
it to pass, to suffer for a deed of the highest honour,
provided I avenge one of the deepest guilt."

It was now time for pronouncing our opinions. Domi-
tius Apollinaris, Consul-Elect, spoke ; there spoke also
Eabricius Veiento, Eabius Postumius, and Vettius Pro-
culus, the colleague of Publicius Certus (the person under
discussion), who was moreover the stepfather of the wife
whom I had lost. After these came Ammius Flaccus.
They all of them defended Certus — though he had not
yet been named by me — just as though he had been
named, and by their defence took up a charge which
I had left, so to speak, unattached. What further they
said it is not necessary to relate. You have it in the
books, for I have gone through the whole, using their own
words. Avidius Quietus and Cornutus Tertullus spoke on
the other side. Quietus said, " It would be most unjust
that the complaints of aggrieved parties should be ex-
cluded ; that, consequently, the right of presenting their
plaints should not be taken from Arria and Fannia ; nor
was it of any consequence what rank a person belonged
to, but what cause he had." Cornutus said " that the
consuls had assigned him as guardian to the daughter of
Helvidius, at the request of her mother and stepfather,

* Virgil, ^neid vi, 105.

302 PLINY'S LETTERS.

nor would he now endure to desert the duties of his office ;
in the discharge of wliich, however, he would set bounds
to his own grief, and would merely convey the extremely
temperate sentiments of these admirable ladies. They
were content to call the attention of the Senate to the
bloodthirsty sycophancy of Publicius Certus, and to beg
that, in case punishment for guilt of the clearest kind were
remitted, he might at any rate be branded by some mark,
like that inflicted by the Censor." Upon this, Satrius
Eufus made a kind of half-and-half ambiguous speech.
" I think," said he, " that injury has been inflicted on
Publicius Certus, if he is not acquitted. He has been
named by the friends of Arria and Fannia, and he has
been named by his own friends. Nor ought we to feel a
difficulty about this ; for we, the same who now pronounce
favourably on the man, will also have to judge him.* If
he is innocent, as I hope and wish, and, until something
be proved against him, believe, you will be able to acquit
him."

So they spoke, in the order in which each was called
upon. Then came my turn. I rose and preluded, as in
the book, replying to each severally. It was astonishing
with what attention, what plaudits, everything that fell
from me was received by the very persons who had just
before been crying out upon me. Such was the change
which ensued, either from the great importance of the
affair, or the success of the oration, or the intrepidity of
the speaker. I came to an end. Veiento commenced
replying, but no one would endure him. There was a great
noise and disturbance, so great indeed as to make him say,
" I entreat, Conscript Fathers, that you will not compel
me to invoke the aid of the Tribune." Upon which,
Murena, the Tribune, immediately exclaimed, " I give you
leave to speak, most noble Veiento." Even then he was

* The meaning seems to be, "Do ■whitewash him. He -will still be sub-
net be apprehensive that our present ject to be tried by us, in regular form,
decision in his favour will entirely if evidence is adduced against him. "

BOOK IX. 303

shouted at. Meanwhile, the Consul called over the names,
got through the diArision, and dismissed the Senate, leaving
Veiento still almost on his legs and trying to speak. He
complained loudly of this insult (so he called it), citing
Homer's line —

" Old man, by younger warriors tliou'rt oppressed." *

There "was scarce any one in the Senate who did not
embrace and salute me, and vie in loading me with praises
for having reintroduced the practice, so long interrupted,
of consulting the public welfare, at the risk of incurring
personal animosities ; for having, in short, freed the Senate
from the odium which was kindled against it among other
orders, as being severe against the rest, and, with a kind
of reciprocal connivance, indulgent to Senators alone.

All this took place in the absence of Certus ; for he was
absent, either because he suspected something of the kind,
or (as the excuse was made for him) because he was ill.
Caesar, indeed, did not refer to the Senate any communi-
cation with regard to him ; nevertheless I obtained what
I had aimed at. For the colleague of Certus got the Con-
sulship, and Certus himself was superseded, and what I
had said at the end of my speech was completely carried
out : " Let him give up, under the best, the distinction
which he obtained under the worst of Princes."

Subsequently I put together again my speech, as best I
could, and made many additions. It happened by chance
(but so as not to appear like chance) that Certus died a victim
to disease within a very few days after the publication of
my book. I heard people relate how this was the image
which flitted before his mind and his eye — he seemed to
see me threatening him with a sword. Whether this was
true or not I would not venture to say positively ; yet it
would be to the interest of example that it should be held
to be true.

Here you have a letter which, if you consider the limits

* Homer, II., viii. 102. The words of Diomed to Nestor.

304 PLINY'S LETTERS.

of a letter, is no shorter than the book you have read.
But you must lay this to your own account, for not having
been contented with the book.

(14.)
To Tacitus.

You are not the man for self-applause ; yet there is
nothing which I write with more sincerity than what I
write about you. Whether posterity will have any care
for us I know not, yet we certainly deserve that it should
have some : I do not say on account of our genius (that
would be arrogance), but on account of our zeal, our
labours, our regard for posterity. Let us only pursue the
road we have determined on, one which, though it may
have conducted but few to sunlight and fame, has yet
brought many out of obscurity and oblivion.

(15.)
To Falco.

I fled for refuge to my Tuscan estate, with the view of
acting according to my own fancy in all things ; but not
even in my Tuscan estate is this possible. I am troubled
with such numerous applications on all sides from the
farmers, and such grumbling ones ; productions which I
am rather more unwilling to read than my own writings ;
for even my own writings I read unwillingly. I am
retouching certain short speeches, a work which, after a
temporary intermission, is insipid and disagreeable. The
estate accounts are neglected, as though I were absent.
Occasionally, however, I mount my horse, and act the
landlord so far as to ride over some portion of the farms,
though merely for exercise. Do you keep up your habit,
and write me in full (since you see what sort of a country-
man I am) of the doings in town.

BOOK IX. 305

(16.)

To Mamilianus.

I do not wonder that you liave derived the greatest
pleasure from such an abundant species of chase, when
you write to me, after the manner of historians, that " the
numbers could not be counted." For my part, I have neither
leisure nor inclination for hunting ; no leisure, because my
vintage is on hand ; no inclination, because the vintage is
small. However, in the place of new wine, I am draw-
ing off* some new verses, and, as you are so polite in
requiring them, will send them to you as soon as they shall
seem to have laid aside their fermentation.

(I7-)
To Genitor.

Your letter is to hand, in which you complain that a
dinner of the most sumptuous description bored you, in
consequence of buffoons, wantons, and fools strolling about
the tables. Pray, smooth those wrinkles of yours a bit !
To be sure I keep nothing of the kind, yet I bear with
those who do. Why don't I keep them ? Because I
derive not the slightest pleasure either in the way of sur-
prise or gaiety from any exhibition of looseness on the
part of a wanton, or sauciness on the part of a buffoon, or
silliness on the part of a fool. I am stating to you not
my reasons, but my taste. And in truth, how many do
you suppose there are who in the same way are offended
at the things by which you and I are captivated and
allured, deeming them to be partly foolish and partly
irksome in a high degree ! How many there are who, when
a reader, or a performer on the lyre, or a comedian is in-

* Devchimus. I cannot help think- cisely similar use of it elsewhere,
ing this must be the sense of the Otherwise it will be, "I am conveying
word, though I cannot find any pre- to you."

U

3o6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

introduced, call for their shoes, or remain at table with
no less ennui than that with which you sat out these
monstrosities, as you style them ! Let us then make
allowance for other people's amusements, that we may
obtain allowance for our own.

(i8.)

To Sabikus.

How great has been the attention, the interest, the
memory, in fine, with which you have read my small pro-
ductions, is shown by your letter. You are therefore
spontaneously cutting out work for yourself by enticing
and alluring me to communicate to you as many as possible
of my writings. I will do so, yet in parts at a time, and
portioned out, so to speak, lest that very memory of
yours which I have to thank should be confused by the
constant succession and mass of matter, and, weighted
and as it were oppressed, should lose its hold on par-
ticulars in consequence of their quantity, and on what
has preceded in consequence of what follows.

(19.)
To Euso.'

You intimate to m^e that you have read in a certain
letter of mine how Verginius Eufus ordered this epitaph
to be placed on his tomb —

" Here Rufus lies, who Vindex overcame,

Not for his own, but for his country's fame." *

You find fault with him for having ordered this ; you go
so far as to add that Frontinus acted better and more
appropriately in forbidding any monument whatever to
be erected to himself ; and you end by consulting me as
to my opinion in either case. I loved both of them. I

* See Book vi. Letter 10.

BOOK IX. 307

bad the greater admiration for the one whom you find
fault with ; such admiration, indeed, as to think that he
never could be sufficiently praised, though I have now to
undertake his defence. I judge all tliose who have done
anything great and memorable to be in the liighest de-
serving, not only of excuse, but actually of praise, if they
pursue with eagerness the immortality which they have
merited, and strive to prolong the renown of a name
destined to live, even through the medium of sepulchral
inscriptions. Nor can I easily find any one besides Ver-
ginius whose modesty in setting forth his deeds has
equalled his glory in performing them. I, who enjoyed
his intimate affection and approval, can personally testify
that only on a single occasion in my hearing did he go so
far as to relate just this one anecdote on the subject of
his own actions, namely, that Cluvius had once addressed
him in these terms : " You know, Verginius, the truthful-
ness which is due to history ; accordingly, if you should
read anything in my histories different from what you
would wish, pray forgive me." To which he replied, "Are
you ignorant, Cluvius, that I did what I did precisely
that it might be free to you authors to write what you
chose ? "

Come, now, let us compare this very Frontinus in the
very respect in which he seems to you more modest and
restrained. He forbad a monument to be constructed;
but in what words ? " The expense of a monument is
superfl.uous. My memory will endure if my life deserved
it." Do you think it more modest to give out, to be read
over the whole world, that one's memory will endure, than
in one single spot to inscribe what you have done, in a
couple of verses ? Though, to be sure, it is not my object
to find fault with Frontinus, but to defend Vermnius : and
what can be a juster defence of him, as far as you are con-
cerned, than that which arises from a comparison with
him of the person you have preferred ? In my judgment,
indeed, neither of them is to be blamed, since both strove

3o8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

after glory with equal longing, though by a different road —
one by desiring the inscription which was his due, the other
by choosing rather the appearance of despising it.

(20.)

To Venator.

Your letter, assuredly, was all the more agreeable to me
in proportion to its length, particularly as the whole of it
was on the subject of my small productions ; and I do
not wonder at these being a pleasure to you, since you love
everything connected with me just as you love me in
person. I am, at the present moment, gathering in my
vintage, a slender one, to be sure, yet a more plentiful one
than I had anticipated — if "gathering in" it can be
called to pluck a grape now and then, to visit the press,
to taste the new wine out of the vat, to drop in on my
servants from town, who are now overlooking the country
ones, and who have left me to the company of my secre-
taries and readers.

(21.)

To Sabinianus.

Your freedman, whom you told me you were so angry
with, came to me and prostrated himself, and clung to my
feet as though they had been your own. There were
many tears, many prayers, and even much silence on his
part ; in short, he convinced me of his penitence. I believe
him to be truly amended, because he feels that he has
sinned. You are angry, I know, and you are rightly
angry, that I know too ; but it is precisely when there is
the most just ground for anger that clemency is entitled
to the highest praise. You have loved the man, and I
hope you will love him again ; meanwhile it will suffice
that you permit yourself to be entreated. It will be

BOOK IX. 309

lawful for you to be angry with him anew if lie shall
have deserved it ; and if you are entreated now, you will
do this with a better excuse. Make some allowance in
view of the man's youth, in view of his tears, in view of
your owm goodness of heart. Do not torment him, and
do not torment yourself into the bargain. For you are
tormented, you, who are so gentle, when you are angry.
I fear that I shall seem not so much to entreat as to
compel, should my prayers be joined to his. I will,
however, join them, and they are all the stronger and
the more profuse in proportion to the sharpness and
severity with which I reprimanded him, having strictly
threatened him that I would never again make an appli-
cation to you. So much to him, for it was proper that he
should be frightened ; I do not say the same to you. Eor
possibly I may again apply to you, and again obtain my
object. May it only be such as it will become me to ask
for and you to vouchsafe !

(22.)

To Severus.

The illness of Passienus Paullus has caused me great
anxiety, and this for many excellent reasons. He is a
man of the highest worth and honour, and one who is
greatly attached to me ; moreover, in literature he rivals,
recalls, and reproduces the ancients, particularly Propertius,
from whom he is descended, whose genuine offspring he is,
and whom he most resembles in the points in which the
former excelled. If you take his elegiacs in hand, you will
read a polished, dainty, charming book, an evident pro-
duction of the household of Propertius. Eecently he has
turned to lyrics, in which he presents us with Horace,
just as in the former kind of poetry with Propertius.
You would suppose, if relationship has any power in
letters, that he must be Horace's kinsman as well. He is

3IO PLINY'S LETTERS.

full of variety and flexibility. His love passages are those
of a genuine lover ; he mourns like one who will not be
consoled ; his praise is of the most benign, and his play-
fulness of the most humorous character ; in short, he
bestows the same pains on the tout ensemble as on the
several parts. Sick in mind (no less than he was sick in
body) on account of such a friend and such a genius,
I have at length recovered him and have myself recovered*
Congratulate me, congratulate literature itself too, which
has encoiintered as great a risk from his peril as it will
obtain glory in consequence of his safety,

(23-)
To Maximus.

Often has it happened to me, when pleading, that the
Centumviri, after keeping for a long while to their judicial
dignity and gravity, have suddenly — as though vanquished
and compelled to the act — risen from their seats in a body
and applauded me. Often have I obtained from the
Senate the highest glory I had aspired to. Yet never
have I received greater pleasure than lately from what
was told me by Cornelius Tacitus. He related how a
Eoman knight was sitting by him at the last Circensian
games. After a conversation of a varied and learned
character, the gentleman asked him, " Are you from Italy
or the provinces ? " He replied, " You know me, and from
your reading too." Upon which the other inquired, " Are
you Tacitus or Pliny ? " I cannot express how delightful
it is to me that our names, as though belonging to literature,
and not to human beincts, are thus connected with litera-
ture ; that each of us is known by means of his pursuits,
even to those to whom he is otherwise unknown.

Another similar occurrence took place a very few days
ago. That distinguished man Fabius Eufinus was my
neighbour at table, and above him was one of his towns-

* The jingle is in the original, Tandem ille, tandem me recepi.

BOOK IX. 31 r

men, who liad come to Home that day for the first time.
Eufinus, pointing me out to him, said, " Do you see this
gentleman ? " and proceeded to talk at length of my
literary pursuits. Said the other, "It must be Pliny."
To acknowledge the truth, I enjoy a great reward from
my labours. Why, if Demosthenes was rightly delighted
because an old woman of Athens recognised him in these
terms, " This is Demosthenes ! " ought not / to rejoice in
the celebrity of my name ? And truly I do rejoice, and
own that I rejoice. Nor indeed do I fear to seem too much
puffed up, since it is the opinion of others about me, and
not my own, that I am putting forward ; and especially
since this is to you, who not only do not grudge the praises
bestowed on any man, but also favour those bestowed
on me.

(24-)
To Sabinianus.

You have done well in taking back to your home and
your heart the freedman formerly so dear to you, with
my letter for his passport.* This will be a satisfaction to
you. It is certainly a satisfaction to me : first, because I
see you to be so tractable that even in your anger you are
capable of being ruled; in the next place, because you
make so much account of me as either to yield to my
authority or to comply with my prayers. So I praise as
well as thank you. At the same time, I admonish you, as
to the future, to show yourself placable in regard to the
errors of those about you, even though there should be no
one by to intercede in their behalf.

(25-)
To MAJkllLIANUS.

You complain of the mass of business in the camp, and

* See Letter 21.

312 P LI NY'S LETTERS.

yet, as though you were in entire enjoyment of the most
complete repose, you read my sportive effusions and trifles,
you delight in them, call for them, and strongly urge me
to the composition of others like them. Indeed I begin
to seek, not only recreation, but even glory, from this
kind of pursuit, after the favourable judgment of a man
so learned, so respected, and above all so truthful, as your-
self. At present, business in court, though it does not
entirely occupy me, still does so to some extent. When
it is concluded, I sliall despatch some product of these
same Muses to that kindliest bosom of yours. You will
suffer my little sparrows and doves to fly among your
eagles, on condition, however, of their being approved by
you as well as by themselves. If the latter only, you will
take care and shut them up in their cages or nests.

(26.)
To LUPERCUS.

I once said — aptly, as I think — of a certain orator of
our epoch, who, though correct and sensible, was lacking
in grandeur and ornamentation, " His only sin is that he
does not sin," Indeed, an orator ought to be excited and
elevated, at times even to boil over and be hurried along,
and so, often to approach a precipice ; for what is high
and lofty generally has a chasm adjoining it. The road
over a plain is safer, but at the same time humbler and
lower ; runners meet with more falls than crawlers, but
the latter get no credit for not falling, while the former
get some, even though they do fall. For, as in the case of
certain accomplishments, so in that of eloquence — nothing
commends it so much as its hazards. You see what ap-
plause dancers on a lofty tight-rope generally elicit when
they seem on the point of falling; for we most admire
what is most unexpected and dangerous, and, as the
Greeks more strongly express it, most "dare-devilish."
Hence the worth of a helmsman is by no means the same

BOOK IX.

J' J

when sailing on a qniet as when on a stormy sea. In the
former case he enters the harbour without being admired
by any one — without praise, without glory. But when
the cordaQ-e creaks, and the mast bends, and the rudder
groans, then what a great man he is, and how near to a
sea-god !

Why all this ? Because you seem to me to have noted
certain passages in my writings as being turgid which I
thought elevated, as audacious which I thought bold, as
extravagant which I thought full. Now, it makes a great
difference whether what you note be reprehensible or
merely conspicuous. For every one has his attention
attracted by what is prominent and stands out in relief ;
only, diligent attention is necessary for judging between
what is sublime and what exceeds the bounds, what is
lofty and what is extravagant. And, to quote Homer for
choice, pray who can forget, whichever way they be

judged, the words —

" All around
The mighty heaven gave out a trumpet sound ; "

and

" His spear upon a cloud reclined ; "

and all that passage,

" Nor such the shout of Ocean's wave."

But you want a tongued-balance and scales to ascertain
whether these expressions are impossible and unmeaning,
or on the other hand glorious and divine. Not that I am
now supposing myself to have ever uttered or to be capable
of uttering anything like this. I am not such a madman.
But I only wish this to be understood, that the reins of
eloquence should be left loose, and the flights of genius
should not be restrained in the narrowest of circles.

But it will be said that the conditions of oratory are one
thing and those of poetry another. Just as if M. TuUius
were less daring ! However, I pass him by, for indeed I
do not think the subject admits of doubt. But Demos-
thenes himself, that pattern and model orator, pray does

314 PLINV'S LETTERS.

he contain or restrain himself when he utters those well-
known words, " Base, fawning, accursed wretches of men ! "
or again, " It is not with stones or bricks that I have forti-
fied the city ; " and directly afterwards, " Ought not Eubcea
to have been made to flank Attica on the sea-board ? " and
elsewhere, "For my part, Athenians, by the Gods, I think
that the man is drunk with the magnitude of his own ex-
ploits." What indeed can be more daring than that most
exquisite and lengthy digression beginning with " 'Tis a
terrible malady " ? How about this, shorter than the
preceding, but equal in boldness, " Then I (yielded not)
to Python in his insolence and flowing with his full tide
against you" ? Of the same stamp is this, " When a man
is powerful through rapacity and wickedness, like this one,
the first occasion, the smallest stumble, will altogether
unseat and destroy him." A similar expression is " Eoped
off from all civic rights,"* and in the same place, "You,
Aristogeiton, have surrendered all the pity that might
have been felt for such deeds as these, or rather you have
entirely extinguished it. Do not, therefore, come for
anchorage to harbours which you have yourself blocked
up and filled with piles." He had previously said,
" For I fear lest some may think that you are engaged
in training such of the citizens as are desirous of turning
out scoundrels." And afterwards, " I see that none of these
topics can offer a passage for this man, nothing but
precipices and chasms and yawning pits."-f- It is not
enough to say, "For I do not understand that our
ancestors built these courts for you in order that you might
plant in them such fellows as these ; " he adds, " If he is a
dealer and a retailer and a huckster in villainy," and a
thousand things of the same kind, to pass over what
^schines called "monstrosities," not "expressions."

* Demostli. c. Aristog. , p. 778. quotation, but this reverses the order

Dr. Whiston renders differently, of the quotations in the original, and

'•though debarred by all the prin- ■will not go with "previously" and

ciples of the state." "afterwards."

+ Keil transposes this and the above

BOOK IX. 315

I have clianced upon what seems to contradict me.
You will say that even Demosthenes is found fault with
in these respects ; but just see how much greater is the
person criticised than the critic himself, and greater
actually on account of these very things. For in other
points his power, in these his sublimity shines forth. And
pray did ^schines himself abstain from what he reproved
in Demosthenes? "For the orator and the law should
speak in unison ; but when the law sends out one voice
and the orator another. . . ." Elsewhere, " Since it appears
that concerning everything, in the decree. . . ." Again
elsewhere, " But, sitting and lying in wait for him at the
hearing, drive him into lawless language," which he so
much approved as to repeat, " But as in the horse-races,
drive him to the same course in the business." Pray is
this more guarded or temperate, " You are irritating the
wound, . . . seizing him as a political pirate sailing
throuo;h the state," and the rest of it ?

I expect that some things in this very letter, as, for in-
stance, the expression, " The rudder groans," and " Near to
a sea-god," will be spitted * by you with the same marks
of disapproval as those about which I write. For I am
aware that while apologising for previous passages of mine
I have fallen into the very things which you had set your
mark to. However, I give you leave to spit them, pro-
vided ouly you at once appoint a day when we may treat
in person both of the other passages and of these. For
either you shall make me cautious,-f- or else I shall make
you rash.

(270

To Pateknus.

What power, what dignity, what majesty, what divinity,
in short, there is in history ! This I have lately, as well as

* With the ohtlus, a mark in the by MS. authority, would perhaps be

shape of a spit, indicating disapproval better, "Either you shall prove me

or doubt. to be turgid, or I shall prove you to

■\Tiniidum, rumtduni, if supported be rash."

3i6 PLINY'S LETTERS.

on numerous other occasions, experienced. A gentleman
had recited a composition strongly marked by truth, and
had reserved a portion of it for another day. Lo and behold
the friends of a certain personage begged and entreated him
not to recite the remainder. Such is the shame of listening
to what they have done, on the part of the very people who
are not in the least ashamed of doing what they blush to
listen to. As for the writer, he granted their request, a
thing which honour permitted him to do. The composi-
tion, however, like the deed itself, remains, and will re-
main, and will always be read, and that all the more be-
cause not immediately. For men are stimulated to make
acquaintance with what is deferred.

(28.)

To KOMANUS.

After a long interval I have received your letters —
three at the same time, however — all of them very choice
and friendly compositions, and such as letters coming
from you should be, particularly when they are so greatly
desired. In one of these you impose on me a most
agreeable service, that of forwarding your communications
to that august lady Plotina.* They shall be forwarded.
In the same letter you commend to me Popilius Arte-
misius. I immediately granted his request. You also
intimate to me that you have got in but a moderate
vintage. This complaint is common to both of us, though
in such widely different parts of the world.

In your second letter you announce that you are at times
dictating, and at others writing, a good deal having for its
object to bring me before your mind. I thank you, and
would thank you still more if you had allowed me to read
the actual compositions which you are writing or dic-
tating. And it would be fair that I should be made

* Tlie wife of the Emperor Trajan.

BOOK IX.

317

acquainted with your writings, just as you have been with
mine, even although they had related to some other person
than myself. At the end, you promise^so soon as you
shall have heard anything definite about my arrange-
ments— that you will play the runaway to your belong-
ings and forthwith fly off to me, who am already preparing
chains for you such as you will in nowise be able to break
through.

The third letter contained news that my oration for
Clarius had reached you, and that it had seemed to you
fuller than when you heard me speak it. It is fuller ; for
I subsequently made many additions to it. You add that
you sent me another letter more carefully composed, and
you ask whether I have received it. I have not received
it, and I long to do so. Accordingly, send me a copy on
the very first opportunity, with something added to it by
way of interest, which I shall compute (can I put it lower ?)
at twelve per cent.

(29O
To EusTicus.

Just as it is better to excel in any one pursuit than to
do a number of things moderately well, so it is better to
do a number of things moderately well, if you are unable
to excel in any one. Observing this, I try my hand at
various kinds of literature, not being sufficiently con-
fident about any of them. So when you read this or that
of mine, allow for each single composition a^ not stand-
ing by itself. Pray, in the case of the other arts, is the
number of productions an excuse for shortcomings ; and
is there to be a harder law in the case of literature, in
which the execution is so much more difficult ? Yet why
do I talk of allowance, like an ingrate ? For if you
receive my newest productions with the same favour as
the preceding ones, I have rather to hope for praise than

3r8 PLINY'S LETTERS.

to supplicate allowance. However, the latter will be
sufficient for me.

(30.)
To Geminus.

Tou praise your friend Nonius to me — often by word
of mouth, and now by letter — for being so generous
towards certain people. And so do I praise him, provided
he is not so towards these alone. For I will have it that
the truly generous man gives to his country, his relations,
his connections, his friends ; I speak of his poor friends,
not like those who choose as the objects of their donations
such as can best make a return. I consider these people
with their presents — all smeared with bird-lime, and
furnished with a hook — to be not so much brinirinG; forth
out of their own as clutching at other people's property.
Tliose are of a like character, who take from one what
they give to another, seeking through avarice a reputation
for generosity. Now, the jirincipal thing is to be content
with one's own ; after that, to support, to cherish, and, as
it were, to encompass in a circle of fellowship those whom
one knows to be particularly in need. If your friend
does all these things, he is thoroughly to be commended ;
if any one of them, to a smaller degree indeed, yet still to
be commended, so rare is the type of even imperfect
generosity. Such a passion for getting has seized on men
that they seem to be taken possession of rather than to be
possessors.

(31.)
To Sardus.

Since leaving you, I have been no less in your company
than when with you. For I have read your book, re-
perusing ever and anon those parts cliiefly (I will not

BOOK IX. 319

deny the truth) in which you have written about me. In
these indeed you have been particularly copious. How
many and how varied tlie things you have said — things
which, though about the same person, are not the same,
and yet do not contradict each other. Shall I commend
you, and thank you at the same time ? I can do neither
sufficiently, and, even if I could, should fear it might be
presumptuous to commend you on account of what I had
to thank you for. This only will I add, that everything
in your book seemed to me the more commendable in
proportion as it was agreeable to me, and the more agree-
able in proportion as it was commendable.

(32.)

To TiTIANUS.

What are you about ? And what are you going to be
about ? Por my part, I am leading the pleasantest, that
is, the idlest, of lives. Hence it comes to pass that I
don't like writing long letters, and like reading them —
the former in my character of an exquisite, and the latter
in that of an idler. For there is nothing more slothful
than your exquisite, or more inquisitive than your idler.

To Caninius.

I have fallen in with a subject which, though true,
bears a close resemblance to fiction, and is worthy of your
lively and elevated and thoroughly poetical genius. I
fell in with it, moreover, among a variety of marvels
which were being related by different guests at a dinner-
party. The authority for it is a man of the highest
veracity ; though, by the by, what has a poet got to do
with veracity ? However, this particular authority is

320 PLINY'S LETTERS.

such as you miglit have trusted, even if you had designed
to write history.

There is in Africa a colonial town named Hippo, close
to the sea. Adjoining it is a navigable lagoon, out of
which flows an estuary after the manner of a river, whose
waters are alternately carried to the sea or returned to
the lagoon, according as they are driven back or impelled
by the tide. The inhabitants of every age are strongly
addicted to fishing, boating, and likewise swimming;
particularly the boys, who are attracted by idleness and
sport. In their eyes, it is glory and renown to swim out
a long way ; the victor is he who has left the shore, as
well as his fellows, the furthest distance behind him. In
this kind of contest, a certain lad, bolder than the rest,
was getting far out to sea. Suddenly a dolphin met him,
and at one time went in front of, at another followed, and
then swam round him, at last took him on his back, then
put him off, then took him on again, next bore the trem-
bling lad seaward, and presently turning back to the shore,
restored him to terra firma and his companions.

The report of this crept through the town; all the
inhabitants flocked up and contemplated the lad himself
as a kind of prodigy, they questioned him, and listened to
him, and repeated his story. Next day they took posses-
sion of the shore, and gazed upon the sea and everything
that looked like sea.* The boys swam, and among them
the one in question, but with greater caution. Again to
time came the dolphin, and again he made for the boy,
who fled with his companions. The dolphin, as though
inviting and recalling him, leapt out of the water, and
dived and twined and untwined himself in a variety of
circles. The same thing happened the next day, and a
third day, and on several days, till these men, brought up
to the sea, began to be ashamed of their fears. They
approached and called to him jestingly ; they even handled
him, and he submitted to be stroked. Their boldness

* The lagoon and the estuary as well as the sea.

BOOK IX. 321

grew by use. But, before all others, the boy wlio had had
the first experience of hini, swam by hnu, jumped on his
back, was carried to and fro, and, fancying he was recognised
and loved by him, was himself taken with love for the
dolphin. Neither of them is afraid, neither is an object
of fear, the confidence of the one and the tameness of the
other go on increasing. Other boys too, on the right and
left, swim with their friend, cheering and exhorting him.
What is also marvellous, another dolphin accompanied
this one, but only in the character of a spectator and
attendant, for he neither performed nor submitted to any-
thing of the same kind; he merely led the other and escorted
him back, just as the rest of the boys did with this boy.
Though it seems incredible (yet it is just as true as what
has preceded), this dolphin, that carried and played with
boys, would often leave his element for the land, and after
drying himself in the sands, would, as soon as he had
grown warm, roll back into the sea. It is ascertained that
Octavius Avitus the Pro-consular Legate, led by a vicious
superstition, poured ointment on him after he had been
attracted to the shore, and that the strangeness of the
thing and the smell caused him to escape back into the
deep, and that he was not seen for many days afterwards,
and then languid and dull ; yet soon afterwards he re-
gained his spirits, and resumed his former friskiness and
his accustomed offices. There was a confluence of all the
officials of the province to see the sight, whose arrival
and sojourn were exhausting the modest revenues of the
town in unwonted expenses. Finally, the place itself was
parting with its repose and retired character. It was
decided to put to death privately the object of all this
assemblage.

With what tender commiseration, with what exuberance,
will you weep over and embellish and exalt this tale!
There is, however, no need for your inventing or adding
anything fresh to it. It will suffice if what is true suffer
no diminution.

X

322 PUNY'S LETTERS.

(34-)
To Tkanquillus.

Eelieve me of my difficulty. I hear that I read badly —
poetry at least — orations, indeed, well enough, and, on that
very account, poetry less well. So being about to have a
recitation before some intimate friends, I am thinking of
making trial of my freedman. This, too, is a mark of in-
timacy that I have selected a man who will not read well,
though he will read better than me, provided he does not
become confused, for he is as unpractised a reader as I am
a poet, Now what I myself am to do all the time he is
reading I know not. Should I sit wrapt and mute and
like a person with nothing in hand ? Or, after the fashion
of some, should I accompany his delivery with mutterings
and motions of the eyes and hands ? But I fancy I am as
bad at pantomime as at reading. Again, I say, relieve me
of my difficulty, and write me back word candidly whether
it be better to read execrably than to be either doing or
not doing such things as these.

(35.) -
To Atrius.

I have received the book you sent me, and thank
you for it. I am, however, at the present time greatly
occupied. Consequently I have not yet read it, though for
the rest extremely anxious to do so. But I owe such re-
spect not only to literature itself, but also to your writings,
as to deem it impiety to take them in hand save with a
mind quite disengaged. I strongly approve your diligence
in the revision of your works. Yet there is a certain
limit to this ; in the first place, because too much care
serves to impair rather than to emend ; next, because it
calls us off from newer attempts, and, while it does not

\

BOOK IX. 323

make perfect what went before, prevents us from com-
mencing what ought to come after.

(36.)

To Fuscus.

You ask how I dispose of my day in summer-time at
my place iu Tuscany. I wake when I choose, generally
about six o'clock, often before that, rarely later. My
windows remain closed ; for, thus marvellously with-
drawn from all distractions, by means of the silence
and the darkness, I am my own master and am left
to myself; I make my eyes wait on my mind, not
my mind on the eyes ; and the eyes will see the same
things as the mind, when they have nothing else to see.
I ponder whatever I have in hand, ponder it just as if
writing it out word for word and correcting it, at one time
a shorter, at another a longer portion, according as it has
been difficult or easy to compose or to recollect. I call
for my amanuensis, and, letting in the daylight, dictate
what I have put together ; he goes away, is recalled, is
dismissed afresh. At ten or eleven o'clock (for the time
is not fixed or subject to regulation), according to the
weather, I betake myself to the terrace-walk or else to the
cloisters, where I meditate and dictate the sequel ; then I
get into my carriage. There, too, I employ myself in the
same way as when walking or lying on my couch ; my
attention remains constant, being refreshed by the change
itself. Next, I go to sleep again for a short time, then
walk, and presently read a Greek or Latin oration aloud
and with emphasis, not so much for the sake of my voice
as my digestion, yet my voice is also strengthened at the
same time. Again I walk, am anointed, exercise myself
and bathe. At dinner, if taken in company with my wife
or a small party, a book is read out. After dinner comes
the comedian or a performer on the lyre ; shortly after-

324 PLINY'S LETTERS.

wards, I take a stroll with my attendants, in the mimher
of whom are some persons of cultivation. In this way
the evening is occupied by varied conversation, and the
day, however long, is soon brought to an end.

At times some changes are made in the above disposi-
tion. Tor if I have been a long while on my couch, or walk-
ing, it is only after a nap and a reading that I take the air,
not in a carriage, but — which takes less time, as being more
rapid — on horseback. Friends drop in with their visits from
the neighbouring villages, engrossing to themselves part of
my day ; and now and then, when I am wearied with study,
these seasonable interruptions are of service to me. Occa-
sionally I hunt, but not without my note-books, so that, if
I fail in tahing something, I may at any rate have some-
to bring Iwme. Some time, though not, as they think,
enough, is given to my tenants, whose rustic grumblings
enhance the pleasures of my literary pursuits, and of those
occupations which smack of the city.

(37.)
To Paulinus.

It is not in your nature to exact customary and, as it
were, conventional services irom your intimates, against
their own convenience; and, moreover, my affection for
you is too steadfast to make me fear that you will take it
otherwise than I could wish if I fail to attend immediately
on the Kalends -to see you made Consul, particularly as I
am detained by the necessity of letting my farms, a busi-
ness which will settle matters for several years, and in
connection with which I shall have to make fresh arrange-
ments. Tor during the last five years, though the tenants
have had large remissions made them, their arrears have
grown : hence most of them have ceased to take any pains
to diminish debts which they despair of being able to pay
in full. They even ravage and consume the produce, as
though they began to think that if they spared it it would

BOOK IX. 325

not be for their own benefit * These increasing abuses
must consequently be met and remedied. The only plan
for remedying them is to let the farms, not at a fixed rent,
but for a share of the produce, and then to set some of my
servants to supervise the work and guard the crops ; and
in any case, there is no fairer return than that which the
soil, the climate, and the seasons bring in. This plan, it
is true, requires great honesty, sharp eyes, and numerous
hands. Yet the experiment must be made ; and, as in the
case of a disease of long standing, we must try and resort
to any kind of change. You see it is no fanciful reason
which prevents me from attending on the first day of
your Consulship, which I shall nevertheless celebrate
here, just as if I were there, with prayers and joy and
congratulations.

To Saturninus.

I do praise our friend Eufus, not because you begged
me to do so, but because he is most worthy of praise.
For I have read his book, so perfect in all points, and my
love for the writer added much to its favour with me.
Yet I exercised my judgment on it ; nor indeed do those
only exercise their judgments who read with ill-natured
intent.

(39-)
To MusTius.

By the advice of the Haruspices, the temple of Ceres,
which stands on my property, will have to be repaired,
embellished, and enlarged. It is, to be sure, old and
small, though, for all that, it is very crowded on a particular

* /.c, they saw^tliey were going to as fast as they couUl, so as to leave
be turned out, so they sold off (as we nothing for the landlord,
should say), and consumed their crops

326 PLINY'S LETTERS.

day. For, on the Ides of September, a large assemblage
is gathered there from the whole district, mii(;h business is
transacted, many vows are undertaken, and many are paid,
yet there is no refuge near at hand against either the rain
or the svm. It seems to me, therefore, that I shall be acting
in accordance with the dictates of generosity as well as of
religion by constructing the temple in the handsomest
style, and adding to it a colonnade — the former for the
use of the goddess, the latter for the use of men. Conse-
quently I should be obliged by your buying four columns
of marble, of whatever sort you think fit ; also by your
buying marble for the adornment of the floor and the
walls. Moreover, there will have to be either made or
bought a statue of the goddess herself, because the old
one which is there, and which is of wood, is in some of
its parts mutilated througli age. As to the colonnade,
nothing occurs to me in the interval which seems to be
required from your neighbourhood, unless indeed you
would draw up a plan in accordance with the locality. It
cannot be built round the temple, for the ground on which
the temple stands is closed in on one side by a river with
extremely steep banks, and on the other by a road. Beyond
the road there is an extensive meadow, in which the
colonnade might find space conveniently enough, opposite
to the temple itself ; unless you shall discover anything
better, who are accustomed to overcome difficulties of
locality by your art.

(40.)

To Fuscus,

You write that yon were much pleased with my letter,
from which you learnt how I spend my summer holidays
on my Tuscan estate, and you inquire what of all this is
changed in winter-time at my Laurentine villa. Kothing,
except that my midday siesta is cut off, and a good deal is

BOOK IX. 327

taken from the night, either before sunrise or after sunset
and if there is any pressing necessity for appearing in
court (as there often is in winter) there is no longer place
for a comedian or a lyrical performer after dinner, but I
often go over again what I have dictated, and at the same
time my memory is helped by this frequent revision. You
now know my habits in summer and in winter. You may
add to this, spring and autumn, in which, as being the
intermediate seasons between summer and winter, I lose
nothing of my working day, and gain a little • from the
night.

n '-)

8 )

BOOK X.

CORRESPONDEXCE WITH TRAJAN".

(I.)*

To Teajan.

Though your dutiful affection had made you desire, most
august Emperor, to succeed your father at as late a period
as possible, yet the immortal gods have hastened to ad-
vance your great virtues to the helm of the State, of vs^hich
you had already undertaken the administration.-}* I pray,
then, that all prosperity — in other words, all tliat is worthy
of your epoch — may fall to your lot, and, through you, to
that of the human race. I offer private as well as public
aspirations for your health and spirits, most noble Emperor.

(2.)

To Tkajan.

I cannot express in words, my Liege, what joy you have
conferred on me, in that you have deemed me worthy of
the rights belonging to the father of three children ; :|: for
though you have conceded this to the prayers of Julius
Servianus, an admirable man, most devoted to you, yet I
understand from your rescript itself that you have granted
it all the more willingly, because he was asking on my
account. I seem, then, to have attained the summit of my
wishes, now that at the commencement of your most aus-

* la the numbering of these letters, pire, and, on the death of the latter,

■which differs in different editions, I acceded to the supreme rule, "the

have followed Keil. helm of the State."

"f- Trajan had been associated with % See ii. 13, note,

his adopted father, Nerva, in the Em-

BOOK X. 339

picious reign you have proved me to be an object of your
especial favour. And all the greater is my longing for
children, whom I wished to have even in the dismal period
that is past, as you may judge from my two marriages.
But the gods have decreed better, who reserved things
as they were till your kindly reign. They preferred that
I should become a father, rather at this time, when I
should be destined to be one in security and happiness.

3 A (20).

To Trajan.

The moment, sir, I was promoted by your favour, and
that of your father, to the post of Prefect of the Treasury
of Saturn, I renounced all employment as an advocate
(which, independently of this, I had never exercised in a
promiscuous fashion), in order to devote my whole atten-
tion to the functions delegated to me. For which reason,
when the Provincials chose me as their patron against
Marius Prisons, I begged to be excused this office, and
obtained my wish. But when subsequently the Consul-
Elect gave it as his opinion that we, whose excuse had
been accepted, should be urged to place ourselves at the
disposal of the Senate, and to suffer our names to be
thrown with others into the urn,* I deemed it most in
accord with the even tenor of your reign not to resist the
desire, especially such a moderate one, of the most honour-
able House. I hope that tliis compliance of mine will be
thought by you to be justified, since it is my wish to make
all my acts and deeds approved to your most noble dispo-
sition.

3 ^ (21).
Trajan to Pliny.

You have discharged the part of a good citizen and a
good Senator in yielding that compliance, which was so

* That is, to suffer ourselves to be voted for by the Senate,

330 PLINY'S LETTERS.

justly required of you, to the most honourable House.
And I have full confidence that you will carry out this
part in faithful accord with your undertaking.

4(3).
Pliny to Tkajan.

Your kindness, most noble Emperor, which is experi-
enced by me to the full, prompts me to be so bold as to lie
under obligation to you on behalf of my friends as well.
Among these, Voconius Eomanus claims for himself, I
would say, even the first place, my schoolfellow and com-
panion from early life ; for which reasons I had already
asked the deceased Emperor, your father, to promote him
to senatorial rank. But this prayer of mine has been
reserved for your grace, since the mother of Eomanus
had not yet completed, with due formalities, the gift of
four hundred thousand sesterces,* which she had under-
taken to bestow on her son in a petition addressed to your
father. This she did afterwards on my admonition ; for
she has made over to him certain estates, and has accom-
plished the remaining forms which are usually required
for completing a transfer. Seeing, then, that what delayed
my hopes is now settled, it is not without considerable
assurance that I pledge you my credit for the character of
my friend Eomanus, set off as it is by literary acquire-
ments, and by his remarkable family affection, which has
deserved for him this very benefaction from his mother,
as well as his immediate entrance on his father's estate
and his adoption by his stepfather. All this is enhanced
by the splendour of his birth and of his paternal property,
and I have such confidence in your kindness as to believe
that these several matters will actually receive much
additional recommendation from my prayers. I therefore

* About ;^320o.' Quadringentorum usual reading, quadringenties (about
miliiuvi, suggested by Gesner. The ;^32o,ooo), seems absurd.

BOOK X. 331

beg, sir, that you will put me in possession of a much-
coveted subject for rejoicing, and will grant to an affection,
which is, I hope, an honourable one, the power of glorying
in your judgments, not as regards myself only, but my
friend as well.

5(4).
To Teajan.

Last year, sir, being tormented by a severe disease, even
to the peril of my life, I engaged a doctor on the latra-
liptic system,* whose solicitude and zeal I can make an
equal return for, only through favour of your kindness.
Wherefore I pray you to grant him the Roman citizenship ;
for his status is that of a foreigner, and he was manu-
mitted by a foreign lady. His own name is Harpocras.
His patroness was Thermuthis, the wife of Theon,-f- who is
long since dead. At the same time, I would beg you to
grant naturalisation \ to Hedia and Harmeris, the freed-
women of a most distinguished lady, Antonia Maximilla ;
a request which I make of you at the desire of their
patroness.

6 (22).

To Teajan.

I thank you, sir, for granting, without delay, naturalisa-
tion to the freedwoman of a lady who is a friend of mine,
as well as the Eoman citizenship to Harpocras, my latra-
liptic doctor.§ But when I had given in the age and

* a system or cure by means of Eel., vi. Z\,ScyUam, Nisi, the daugh.

oiutments. terofNisus.

+ Thermuthin Theonis. This may J Jms QwiVi^ut?)?, and above Cmtos

mean either the wife or the daughter Romana. The difference between

of Theon. In ii. 20, we" had Verania these seems scarcely to be properly

Pisonis, the wife of Piso. In 11 of ascertained. See Mr. Long's article

this book, Stratonica Epigoni is the on ' Civitas ' in the " Dictionary of

daughter of Epigonus. So in Virg. Greek and Roman Antiquities."

§ See note. Letter 5.

332 PLINY'S LETTERS.

fortune of the latter, as you had bidden me to do, I was
informed by persons of greater experience that, inasmuch
as he was an Egyptian, I ought first to have obtained for
him tlie citizenshij) of Alexandria, and afterwards that of
Rome. For my part, liowever, owing to my thinking that
there was no difference between Egyptians and other
foreigners, I was content simply to write to you to the
effect that he had been manumitted by a foreign lady, and
that his patroness was long since dead. I will not com-
plain of this ignorance of mine, since it has been the cause
of my being under more frequent obligations to you on
account of the same person. I beg, therefore, in order
that your favour may be lawfully enjoyed by me, that you
would accord him the citizenship of Alexandria as well as
of Eome. His age and fortune (that there may be no fresh
delay in the way of your kindness) I have sent in to those
freedmen of yours to whom you ordered me to send them.

7 (23)-
Teajan to Pliny.

I have made it a rule, in accordance with the established
custom of the emperors, to be cautious in bestowing the
citizenship of Alexandria; but since you have already
obtained that of Eome for Harpocras, your latraliptic
doctor,* I cannot bring myself to refuse this further
application of yours. You will have to inform me from
what district he comes, that I may forward you a letter
for my friend Pompeius Planta, the Prefect of Egypt.

8 (24).

To Teajan.

Your late imperial father, sir, having exhorted all
citizens to the exercise of liberality, as well in an admir-
able discourse as by his own most noble example, I begged

* Note, Letter 5.

J

BOOK X. 333

of liim that some statues of emperors (wliich had been
handed down to me through several successions, and which
I was taking care of, just as I had received them, on some
distant estates of mine) might, by his leave, be transferred
to the chief town, with the addition of his own statue.
This he accorded me, with the most ample expression of
his approval, and I at once wrote to the Decurions * to
assign me a piece of ground on which I might build a
temple at my own expense. They, in honour of the work
itself, offered me the choice of a situation. But I was
prevented first by my own and next by your father's ill-
ness, and subsequently by the cares of the office which
you and he imposed on me. Noiv, it seems to me that I
can most conveniently make an excursion to the spot
itself ; for my mouth of attendance expires on the
Kalends of September, and the following month has many
holidays in it. I beg therefore, before all things, that you
will permit me to embellish the work I am about to com-
mence, by the addition of your statue ; and next, in order
that I may do this as soon as possible, that you will grant
me a furlough. Yet it is not consistent with my straight-
forwardness to dissemble from your grace that you
will incidentally render a great service to my private
interests. For the lettings of the estates in my possession
in this very district, besides that they exceed the sum of
four hundred thousand sesterces,+ are so far from being a
matter capable of being deferred that the new tenants
must immediately prune the vines. Moreover, successive
bad seasons compel me to think of making remissions,
and I cannot calculate these except on the spot. I shall
owe then, sir, to your favour both the acceleration of my
pious project and the settlement of my affairs, if on both
these accounts you grant me a furlough of thirty days.
Indeed I cannot fix beforehand a shorter period, since the
town and the estates of which I speak are beyond the
hundred and fiftieth milestone from the city.

* The Town Council, as in i. 8. f About ;C3200.

334 PLINY'S LETTERS.

9 (25).
Teajan to Pliny.

You have given me many reasons, public as well as
private,* for requesting a furlough. As far as I am con-
cerned, however, your simple desire would have sufficed.
For I do not doubt that you will return the moment you
are able to a post which makes such calls on you as yours
does. Though very sparing of honours of this description,
yet I permit a statue to be erected to me in the place you
wish, lest I should seem to impede the flow of your affec-
tion toward me.

10 (5).

To Teajan,

I cannot express in words, sir, the joy communicated to
me by your letters, from which I learnt that you had
granted in addition the citizenship of Alexandria on Har-
pocras, my latraliptic doctor,f though you had made it a
rule, in accordance with the established custom of the
emperors, to be cautious in bestowing it. I must now
signify to you that Harpocras is from the district of
Memphis, and must ask you therefore, most indulgent
Emperor, to send me a letter for your friend Pompeius
Planta, the Prefect of Egypt, according to promise. As I
am going to meet you, my Liege, in order the sooner to
enjoy the delight of your eagerly expected advent, I pray
that you will permit me to go as far as possible to your
encounter.

11(6).

To Teajan.

My recent illness, sir, has placed me under an obliga-
tion to Postumius Marimis, a physician, to whom I can

* MuUas et privatas et puhlicas text he has, Et multas et \pmncs\
caiisas. Keil's conjecture, in his puhlicas causae.

t Note, Letter 5.

BOOK X. 335

make an equal return by your favour, if you shall comply
with my prayers according to the habit of your grace.* I
beg then that you will confer the citizenship on his rela-
tions— Chrysippus, the son of Mithridates, and the wife of
Chrysippus, Stratonica, the daughter of Epigonus ; also on
the sons of the same Chrysippus, Epigonus, and Mithri-
dates, with the proviso of their being subject to their
father, and a reservation of their rights as patrons over
their freedmen. At the same time I beg you to grant
naturalisation to L. Satrius Abascantus, P. Caesius Phos-
phorus, and Pancharias Soteris. This I ask of you with
the consent of their patrons.

12 (7).

To Tkajan.

I know, sir, that my prayers are implanted in that
memory of yours, so retentive in the matter of kindly
actions. Since, however, you have indulged me on this
subject as well as on others, I must remind you and at the
same time earnestly entreat you to deign to honour Accius
Sura with the Prsetorship whenever the post is vacant.
To this hope, though otherwise a most retiring man, he is
exhorted both by the splendour of his birth and the great
integrity which he showed in poverty, and, above all, by
the felicity of the times which invites and elevates the
good consciences of your subjects to the experience of your
kindness.

13 (8).
To Tkajan.

Since I know, sir, that it will pertain to the attestation
and approval of my character to be distinguished by the
judgment of so excellent a prince, I beg that you will

* Boiiitas tua here, as in previous like '* your grace," was formerly ad-
letters (4 and 8), was applied as a sort dressed to English kings), " your ex-
of title, as "your highness" (which, cellence," &o.

336 PLINY'S LETTERS.

deign to add to the dignity to which your favour has
advanced me the post either of Augur or of Septemvir,
seeing that they are vacant, that by right of my sacred
office I may be able to pray to the gods for you publicly
as I now pray to them in my private devotions.

14 (9)-
To Trajan.

I hail with congratulations, most excellent Emperor,
both on your own account and that of the State, this
victory of yours, so great, so noble, so worthy of antiquity !
And I pray the immortal gods that all your counsels may
be followed by a like happy event, that by your lofty
virtues the glory of the empire may be renewed as well as
increased.

15 (26).

To Trajan.

As I am convinced, sir, that the news will be of interest
to you, I beg to announce that I have sailed past the pro-
montory of Malea and reached Ephesus, with all my suite,
though retarded by contrary winds. Now I propose to
make for my province, partly by coasting-boats, partly by
land conveyances. Eor as the excessive heats are an im-
pediment to a land journey, so in like manner the Etesian
winds * oppose continuous navigation.

16 (27).

Trajan to Pliny.

You were quite right in reporting to me, my dearest
Secundus. Eor I am greatly interested in the way you
have taken for reaching your province. Your determina-
tion is prudent, too, to use ships at one time and land
conveyances at another, as may be recommended by the
localities.

* Annual winds, blowing from the north.

BOOK X. 2zy

17 A (28).
To Tkajan.

Just as I experienced a very healthy voyage as far as
Ephesus, sir, so when I had commenced my land journey
from that point, I was troubled with the most scorching
heats and even slight attacks of fever, and stopped at Per-
gamus. Again, on changing into the coasting-boats, I was
retarded by contrary winds, and did not arrive in Bithynia
till somewhat later than I had hoped, that is to say, on
the seventeenth of September. I cannot, however, com-
plain of the delay, since I was fortunate enough to be able
to celebrate your birthday in the province, a most aus-
picious circumstance. Now I am examining into the ex-
penditure, revenues, and debts due to the commonwealth
of Prusa, and the inspection itself shows me more and
more the necessity of this. For many sums of money
are retained, on various pretexts, by private individuals ;
besides, some are laid out in expenditure that is anything
but legitimate.

The above, sir, I wrote directly on my arrival.

17 B.

To Tkajan".

On the seventeenth of September, sir, I came to my
province, which I found in that state of submission and
loyalty to you which you deserve on the part of mankind.
Pray, sir, consider whether you deem it necessary to
send here an architect.* For it seems that no small
amount may be got back from those in charge of the
public constructions, if the measurements are faithfully
executed. So I certainly foresee, from the accounts of the
Prusenses, which I am at this moment examining.

* Mensor. An architect and clerk of the works.

Y

338 PLINY'S LETTERS.

1 8 (29).
Trajan to Pliny.

I wish you could have reached Bithynia without any
damage to your slender frame or to your suite, and that
your journey from Ephesus had resembled the sea- voyage
which you had experienced up to that point. As to the day
of your arrival in Bithynia, I was informed of that, dearest
Secundus, by your letter. The provincials will, I trust,
understand that I have had their interests in view. For
you, for your part, will take care to make it plain to them
that you have been selected to be sent to them as repre-
senting me.

Before all things, however, you should examine the
public accounts, for that they are * in a state of confusion
is quite clear. As for architects, I have scarce enough of
them even for the works which are being carried on in
Eome and its vicinity. But in every province persons are
to be found who can be trusted ; so they will not fail you,
if only you choose to make diligent search for them.

19 (30).
To Trajan.

I beg, sir, you would direct me by your counsel, who am
in doubt whether I ought to intrust the custody of pri-
soners to the public slaves (which has been the custom to
this time) or to soldiers. For I fear the public slaves may
not guard them with sufficient fidelity, and on the other
hand that this occupation may distract f no small num-
ber of soldiers. Meanwhile, I have added a few soldiers
to the public slaves. Yet I see there is a danger that this
very arrangement may be a cause of negligence to both

* Nam et eas esse vexatas. Gierig t Distringat liere in the proper sense

proposes namque. If et be retained, of " withdraw from somethin^'," i.e.,

the meaning must be "they as well withdraw from !,their usual occupa-

as other things." tion.

BOOK X. 339

parties, each party making sure that they will be able
to retort upon the others the neglect common to both of
them,

20(31).

Trajan to Pliny.

There is no need, dearest Secundus, that a number of
our fellow-soldiers should be transferred to the guard of
prisoners. Let us persevere in the custom, which is that
of your province, of guarding them by means of the public
slaves. For indeed their doing this faithfully depends on
your strictness and vigilance. The great fear certainly
is, as you write, that by mixing up soldiers with public
slaves, both parties, by trusting in each other, will be
made more careless. And besides, let us not forget this,
that the smallest possible number of soldiers should be
called away from the standards.

21 (32),

Pliny to Trajan.

Gavins Bassus, the Prefect of the coast of Pontus, came
to me most respectfully and dutifully, sir, and remained
with me several days. As far as I could discern, he is an
excellent man, and one worthy of your favour. I informed
him of your orders, that out of the cohorts which you had
been pleased to place me in command of, he must be con-
tented with ten beneficiarii,* two horsemen and one cen-
turion. He replied that this number would not suffice
him, and that he would write to you to that effect. This
was the reason why I did not think it proper at once to
recall those he has with him over the number,

* This word has no English equiva- ordinary regimental duty, and form-
lent. Tlie beneficiarii here seem to ing a kind of bodyguard for the
have been soldiers exempted from Prefect,

340 PLINY'S LETTERS.

22 (33).

Trajan to Pliny.

Gavins Bassus has written to me too, that the number
of soldiers which I had directed to be assigned to him was
insufficient. That you may know my reply, I have ordered
it to be appended to this letter. It makes a great differ-
ence whether necessity requires, or whether people are
merely wanting to extend their commands.* For us, the
public advantage is alone to be considered, and as far as
possible care be taken that the soldiers be not absent from
their standards.

23 (34).

To Teajan.

The people of Prusa, sir, have public baths which are
both mean and old. They desire, therefore, with your
kind permission, to restore them. I, however, being of
opinion that new ones should be built ... it seems to me
that you might indulge them in their desire. For there
will be money out of wliich this may be done : first, that
which I have already begun to call in and claim from
private individuals ;-f- secondly, that which they them-
selves have been in the habit of expending on oil, and are
now prepared to contribute towards the building of the
baths. This is a work besides, which is demanded both
by the importance of the city and the glory of your reign.

24 (35)-
Trajan to Pliny.

If the construction of new baths is not likely to burden
the resources of the Prusenses, we are able to indulge them

* The original is uncertain. Mul- perare latius velint is the conjecture
turn interest res poscat an homines im- of Catanseus.

t See Letter 17 a.

BOOK X. 341

in their desire, provided always that in no way are they
either to be taxed for this object, or have their means
impaired for the future in respect to the necessary expen-
diture of the State.

25 (10).

To Trajan.

Servilius Pudens, my lieutenant, sir, arrived at Nieo-
media on the twenty-fourth of November, and freed me
from the anxiety of a long expectation.

26(11).

To Trajan.

Rosianus Geminus, sir, has been attached to me with
the closest bonds by means of the favour you have con-
ferred on me. For I had him for my QuaBstor during my
consulship, when I found him a most loyal subordinate.
Since my consulship he exhibits the same respect for me,
and heaps private services upon the proofs he had given of
our public friendship. I beg, then, that in accordance with
his worth, and in compliance with my prayers,* you will
conceive a favourable opinion of one to whom, if you have
any confidence in me, you will further exhibit marks of
your kindness. He himself will take care, in the discharge
of what you shall commit to him, to deserve still greater
things. I am rendered more sparing in my praises of him
by the hope that his integrity and virtue and industry are
particularly known to you, not only from the offices which
he has filled in the city under your eyes, but also from the
fact of his having served in the army with you. The one
thing which, in consequence of my affection for him, I do
not seem to myself to have yet done fully enough, I must

* Precibus meis faveas cui, etc. If ferent turn will be given to the sen-
precibus meis be taken as tbe dative tence.
governed by faveas, a somewhat dif-

342 PLINY'S LETTERS.

do again and again ; that is, I must beg of you, sir, that it
be your pleasure with all speed to cause me to rejoice at
the advancement in dignity of my Quaestor, or, in other
words, through him of myself.

27 (36).

To Trajan.

Maximus, sir, your freedman and provincial agent,
assures me that, besides the ten beneficiarii * which you
commanded me to assign to the worthy Gemellinus, he is
himself likewise in want of soldiers ... of these in the
meanwhile. ... I thought that the number I found
should be left at his service, particularly as he was going
to Paphlagonia to procure corn. Moreover, for the sake of
protection, I added, at his desire, two horsemen. I would
beg of you to write me word what practice you would
have observed for the future.

28 (37).

Trajan to Pliny.

On the present occasion, you have been quite right in
furnishing my freedman Maximus with soldiers, as he was
setting out to procure corn, For he, as well as they, was
discharging an extraordinary office. But when he shall
have returned to his pristine functions, he must be content
with the two soldiers assigned him by you and the same
number by Virdius Gemellinus, my agent, whose assistant
he is.

29 (38).
To Trajan.

Sempronius Cffilianus, a young man of remarkable
merit, has sent me two slaves discovered among the re-

* Letter 21, note.

BOOK X. 343

emits. I have deferred their punishment in order to
consult you, the restorer and establisher of military disci-
pline, as to the nature of the penalty. My principal
hesitation is on this account, that, though they had already
pronounced the military oaths, they had not as yet been
assigned to any corps.* I beg then, sir, you would write
me word what course I should follow, particularly as this
pertains to example.

30 (39)-
Trajan to Pliny.

Sempronius Cselianus has acted in accordance with my
instructions in sending to you persons concerning whom
it will be necessary to make inquiry whether they seem
to have merited the extreme penalty. Now it is material
whether they offered themselves as volunteers, or were
chosen, or again were merely presented as substitutes. If
they were chosen, the recruiting officers were in fault : if
they were presented as substitutes, the blame is with those
who so presented them : if they came spontaneously, with
a knowledge of their condition, it will be proper to punish
them. Nor is it of much consequence that they have not
yet been assigned to a corps. For the very day they were
passed, it was their duty to tell the truth about their origin.

31 (40}.
To Tkajan.

Saving your majesty, sir, it behoves you to conde-
scend to my difficulties, seeing that you have given me
the right to refer to you in all matters of doubt. In many
cities, and particularly Nicomedia and Nicsea, certain per-
sons who had been condemned to the mines, or the arena,
and similar kinds of punishment, exercise the office and
ministry of public slaves, and even, in the capacity of

* " Sent to the colours," as we say.

344 PLINY'S LETTERS.

public slaves, receive annual wages. On hearing this, I
hesitated much and long as to what I ought to do. For,
on the one hand, to remit to their punishment, after a
great lapse of time, men, most of whom are now in years
and who are alleged to be leading honest and discreet
lives, seemed to me to be too severe : on the other hand,
to retain convicts in public employments appeared to me
not quite respectable. Again, I judged that for these
people to be supported by the commonwealth in idleness
would be useless; and that if they were not supported,
there would be actual danger. Perforce, therefore, I have
left the whole matter in suspense, till I had consulted
you. You will perhaps inquire how it came to pass that
they were exempted from the punishments to which they
had been condemned, and so did I inquire, but could get
no positive information to lay before you. For though
the decrees, by which they had been condemned, were
produced, no documents were forthcoming to prove their
having been let off. There were, however, some who said
that they had obtained their dismissal by their prayers at
the bidding of the Proconsuls or Legates. What imparts
credit to this is, that it must be supposed no one would
venture on such an act without authority.

32 (41).

Trajan to Pliny.

Ptemember that you were sent to the province in which
you now are on this very account, that there was much
in it which seemed to need rectifying. Now this will be
a matter specially requiring correction, that those who
have been condemned to punishments should not only
have been released from them, as you write, without
authority, but should even be removed into the cate-
gory of respectable servants. Those, then, who have been
condemned within the last ten years and have not been
liberated by any competent authority, it will be proper to

BOOK X. 345

remit to their punishment : if there shall be found some
older and aged persons who have been condemned more
than ten years ago^ we must distribute them in such ofQces
as are not far from being penal. For persons of this kind
are usually assigned to the baths, the cleansing of the
latrines, also to working on the roads and in the streets.

33 (42).
To Trajan.

While I was making a tour through the opposite side
of the province, an immense conflagration at Nicomedia
consumed a number of private houses and two public
edifices — though separated by a road — the Gerusia * and
Temple of Isis. It spread the wider first through violence
of the wind and next through the apathy of the inhabi-
tants, who, it is quite clear, remained idle and motionless
spectators of the sad calamity : and, independently of this,
there was nowhere any fire-engine f for public use, no
water-bucket, in short, no implement for keeping down
conflagrations. As for these, indeed, in accordance with
my orders already given, they will be provided. Do you,
sir, consider whether you think a guild of firemen should
be instituted, limited to one hundred and fifty men. I
will see to it that no one shall be admitted except he be a
fireman, and that they shall not use the rights accorded
them for any other purpose. Nor will it be difficult to
watch such a small number of men.

34 (43)-
Teajan to Pliny,

It has come into your head, I see, in accordance with a
common precedent, that a guild of firemen might be con-

* It is disputed ■whether this was + 5ipo or Sipho. The form of this
a Senate-house or an Asylum for engine is shown in Rich's "Diction-
old men who had deserved well of ary of Antiquities."
the State.

346 PLINY'S LETTERS.

stituted amonfT the inhabitants of Nicomedia. But I bear
in mind that that province of yours, and particularly those
cities, are subject to trouble from associations of this
description. Whatever name, for whatever reason, we
give to these reunions they will shortly become . . . and
secret societies. It is better, then, to procure what may
be of assistance in restraining fires, and to admonish
owners of property to be themselves ready to keep them
down ; moreover, if the circumstances require it, to
employ the concourse of spectators for the same object.

35 (44).
To Trajan.

We are at the same time, sir, renewing and acquitting
our solemn vows for your safety, on which the public
prosperity depends, praying the gods to grant that they
may be ever thus acquitted and thus attested.

36 (45).
TiiAJAN TO Pliny.

I have learnt with pleasure, dearest Secundus, from
your letter that, in company with the Provincials, you
have both acquitted and renewed your vows for my health
and safety to the immortal Gods.

37 (46).
To Teajan.

The inhabitants of Nicomedia, sir, spent three millions
three hundred and twenty-nine thousand sesterces* on an
aqueduct which was left still unfinished and was even
demolished. Two millions of sesterces f have been dis-
bursed afresh on another aqueduct. This, too, having been

* About ;^26,7oo, if tlie reading be correct. + About ;/^r6,ooo.

BOOK X. 347

left off, there is need of some further outlay, that those
who have mischievously thrown away such large sums
may have water at any rate. I have in person found my
way to a spring of great purity, from which it seems that
the water ought to be conducted to the spot (as was origi-
nally attempted) by means of arches, so that it may not
reach only to the flat and low-lying parts of the city. A
very few arches still remain, and some may further be
erected of the squared stones taken from the former con-
struction ; some portions, as it seems to me, will have to
be made of brickwork, which is both handier and cheaper.
But, first of all, it is necessary that a conduit-master or
architect should be sent, that what has taken place before
may not happen again. All I can say is, that the utility
and beauty of the construction will be in all respects
worthy of your reign,

38 (47).
Tkajan to Pliny.

Care must be taken that water be conducted to the city
of Nicomedia. I have full confidence that you will ad-
dress yourself to this work with all due diligence. But,
by the God of Truth, it concerns that same diligence of
yours to inquire by whose fault the inhabitants of Nico-
media have thrown away so much money up to this time,
and whether they have not been playing into each other's
hands in commencing and then abandoning these aque-
ducts. Accordingly, whatever you discover on this head,
bring to my knowledge.

39 (48).
To Trajan.

The theatre of Nicsea, sir, which is now in great part
constructed, though yet unfinished, has absorbed, as I hear
(for the accounts for the building have not yet been gone

348 PLINY'S LETTERS.

into), more than ten millions of sesterces,* and I fear to
no purpose. For it is subsiding and gaping with huge
fissures, either by reason of the soil being wet and spongy,
or because the stone itself is poor and friable. It cer-
tainly deserves consideration whether it ought to be com-
pleted, or abandoned, or even demolished, for the props
and substructions, by which it is from time to time kept
up, seem to me to be sources of expenditure rather than of
strength. Many additions are promised to this theatre by
private individuals, as, for instance, galleries all round,
and porticoes over the spectators' seats, all of which are
now delayed, owing to the stoppage of the work which
must first be completed.

These same people of ISTicsea have begun to rebuild the
gymnasium, which was destroyed by fire before my arrival,
with many more parts and on a larger scale than before,
and they have already gone to some expense ; as the dan-
ger is, to small advantage, for it is ill-arranged and scat-
tered. Moreover, an architect, a rival to be sure of the
one by whom the work was commenced, afiirms that the
walls, though two and twenty feet in thickness, are unable
to support the weight imposed on them, in consequence of
their being stuffed with cement in the middle and not
encased in brickwork.

The people of Claudiopolis, too, are excavating, rather
than building, huge baths in a low situation, with a hill
actually hanging over it ; and this, too, out of the moneys
which the new members of their Council, added by your
favour, have either already paid as their entrance-fees, or
are paying in at our demand. Since, then, I fear that, in
the one case, the public money, and, in the other, what is
of more value than any money, the produce of your
favour, may be badly invested, I am compelled to ask
you, not only on account of the theatre, but also of these
baths, to send an architect. He will judge whether it be
more advantageous, after the outlay which has been in-

* About ;,^8o,ooo.

I

BOOK X. ' 349

curred, to complete the works, in one way or another, as
they have been begun, or to rectify what may seem to
need improvement, and to transfer operations which may
need to be transferred ; * lest, while we are desirous of not
losing what has been spent, we spend badly what will
have to be further added.

40 (49)-
Trajan to Pliny,

As to what is proper to be done in connection with the
theatre, which has been commenced at Nicasa, you who
are on the spot will be best able to consider and deter-
mine. I shall be satisfied to have intimated to me the
opinion at which you arrive. The parts of the work due
from private individuals, you will take care to exact from
them, then only when the theatre, on account of which
they have been promised, is built. These Greeklings are
addicted to gymnasia; so perhaps the people of Nicsea
have set about building theirs with too much zest ; they
must, however, be content with one which shall suffice for
their necessities.

As to the advice to be 'given to the people of Claudio-
polis, in connection with their baths (which they have
commenced in what you describe as an unsuitable spot),
it is for you to determine. You cannot be short of archi-
tects. There is no province which does not contain expe-
rienced and ingenious men of this kind; provided you
do not suppose it is shorter to send them from Eome,
when they are actually in the habit of coming to us from
Greece.

* This seems to refer to the baths. See ante.

35© PLINY'S LETTERS.

41 (50).

To Trajan.

When I contemplate the grandeur of your fortunes and
of your mind, it seems to me in the highest degree appro-
priate to designate to you such works as shall be worthy
no less of your immortality than of your glory, as shall be
marked by their utility no less than by their excellence.
On the borders of the Nicomedian territory there is an
extensive lake, by means of which marble, agricultural
produce, firewood, and building materials are conveyed,
at small cost and labour, in ships to a road, and from that
point with much labour, and still more expense, in waggons
to the sea. . . . This work demands many hands, but these,
to be sure, are not wanting, for there is a large supply of
men in the country parts, and a still larger in the city,
and we may confidently expect that all of them will with
much alacrity engage in a work which will be of advantage
to all. It remains for you, if you shall see fit, to send us
a surveyor, or else an architect, who shall carefully exa-
mine whether the lake is higher than the sea — the experts
in these parts contending that it is higher by forty
cubits. I find that a trench was cut in this identical
direction by the king;* but it is uncertain whether this
was done for the purpose of collecting the moisture from
the surrounding country, or in order to turn the lake into
the river. For it is not completed. And this, too, is
doubtful, whether the king was arrested by death, or
whether he despaired of carrying through the work. But
this very circumstance (for you will suffer me to be ambi-
tious on account of your glory) incites and stimulates me
to wish that you may complete that which kings have only
commenced.

* A rcge. Who is meant is uncer- in the portion of the letter which

tain. Some suppose Mithridatea. seems to be wanting. See above.

The "river" which is next alluded Cf. Letter 61.
to may probably have been mentioned

i

BOOK X. 351

42(51).

Teajan to Pliny.

The lake which you mention is such as may possibly
induce in us the desire to open it out to the sea. But a
careful examination is evidently necessary, lest if its
waters be sent down to the sea, they should be entirely
drained off, and certainly as to the quantity of its waters
and the source whence it derives them. You can ask for
a surveyor from Calpurnius Macer, and I will send you
from here some person experienced in this kind of work.

43 (52).

To Trajan.

On my calling for an account of the expenditure of the
community of Byzantium (which has been very great), I
learnt, sir, that an envoy is sent to pay his respects to you
every year, bearer of a popular decree to that effect, and
that twelve thousand sesterces* are given him. So, bear-
ing in mind your course of action, I deemed it right to
keep back the envoy and to send on the decree, that at
the same time the expense might be lightened and a
public duty fulfilled. The same city was debited with
three thousand sesterces,-f- which, under the head of travel-
ling expenses, were given annually to the envoy who went
to pay his respects publicly to the Governor of Mcesia.
These sums, I considered, ought for the future to be cut
down. I beg, sir, that you would write me word what
you think, and so deign either to confirm my judgment or
to correct my mistake.

44 (53).
Teajan to Pliny.

You have acted admirably, dearest Secundus, in remit-
ting to the inhabitants of Byzantium those twelve thousand

* About ;^96. t About ^24,

352 PLINY'S LETTERS.

sesterces which were spent on an envoy for the purpose
of paying me their respects . . . although the decree alone
shall have been sent through you. The Governor of
Moesia, too, will forgive them if they show their regard for
him in a less expensive way.

45 (54).
To Trajan.

With regard to diplomas,* sir, the date of which has
expired, I would beg you to write whether you wish them
to be regarded at all, and if so for how long ? This will
free me from doubt. For I fear that through ignorance I
may make a mistake one way or the other, and either con-
firm what is unlawful or obstruct what is necessary.

46(55). .
Trajan to Pliny.

Diplomas, the date of which has expired, ought not to
be in force. Consequently I make it one of my first rules
to send new diplomas to all the provinces before they can
possibly be required.

47 (56).
To Trajan.

Upon my desiring, sir, to be made acquainted with the
debts due to the State of Apamea, and its income and
expenditure, I was told in reply that, while every one was
anxious that the accounts of the colony should be inspected
by me, yet that they never had been inspected by any of
the pro-consuls, since they were in possession of a prero-
gative and a very ancient usage of administering the public

* Diplomata, letters of recom- here, though there were diplomata of

mendation to persons travelling, various kinds, and we cannot be sure

something like modern passports, as to what Pliny refers.
This is probably at least the sense

BOOK X.

353

affairs at their own discretion. I insisted upon all that
they said and recited being included in a memorial, which
I have sent to you just as I received it, though perceiving
that much of its contents does not relate to tlie subject of
inquiry. I beg you to deign to instruct me as to the
course you deem it right for me to follow. For I fear lest
I should seem either to have exceeded or not to have duly
fulfilled the functions of my office.

48 (57).

Teajan to Pliny.

The memorial of the Apameni, which you have joined
to your letter, has freed me from the necessity of carefully
examining the reasons on the strength of which they wish
it to appear that the Proconsuls who have governed their
province have abstained from inspecting their accounts,
since they have not opposed your inspecting them. Their
probity should therefore be rewarded, and they should at
once be told that in inspecting the accounts you will be
acting by my orders, without prejudice to the prerogatives
they enjoy.

49 (58).
To Teajan.

Before my arrival, sir, the inhabitants of Nicomedia
had begun to add a new Forum to their old one, in a
corner of which is a temple of the great mother of the
gods,* which must be either rebuilt or removed, parti-
cularly as it is much lower than the construction which
is at the present moment rising. When I inquired
whether the temple had been in any way formally con-
secrated, I learnt that the mode of dedication here differs
from ours. Consider, then, sir, whether you think that a
temple which has not been formally consecrated can be

* Cybele.

354 PLINY'S LETTERS.

removed without prejudice to religion. In other respects,
it would be most convenient to do so — if religion is no
obstacle.

50 (59)-

Teajan to Pliny.

You may, dearest Secundus, without religious scruples
— if the situation of the place seems to require it — re-
move the temple of the mother of the gods to one that is
better accommodated to it. Nor need you be troubled
about finding no form of dedication, since the soil of a
foreign city does not admit of the kind of dedication
which takes place under our laws.

51 (12).
To Teajan.

It is difficult, sir, to express in words the great pleasure
which I felt at your consenting, at the request of my
mother-in-law and myself, to transfer her relative Cselius
Clemens to this province. For hence I thoroughly under-
stand the measure of your kindness, since I experience
such full favour, with all my kindred — a favour I dare not
attempt to make a like return for, even though I had it
entirely in my power. So I fly to prayers, and entreat the
gods that I may not be deemed unworthy of those things
which you are so assiduous in conferring on me.

52 (60).
To Teajan.

"We have celebrated, sir, the day on which you saved the
Empire by taking it on yourself, with all the joy which
you merit : and we prayed the gods to preserve you in
life and prosperity to the human race whose safeguard
and security depends on your welfare. We set the ex-
ample to the troops, too, in swearing allegiance in the

i

BOOK X. 355

customary way, which the provincials did in the same
form, and with emulous loyalty,

53 (6i).
Trajan to Pliny.

I have learnt with pleasure from your letter, my dearest
Secundus, how religiously and joyfully the troops, to-
gether with the provincials, followed you in celebrating
the day of my accession.

54 (62).

To Trajan.

The public moneys, sir, are, through your forethought
and our ministry, either already collected or in the course
of collection ; and I fear they will lie idle. Por there are
no opportunities, or else very rare ones, of buying land :
nor are persons to be found who are willing to be debtors
to the state, particularly at twelve per cent., the rate at
which they can borrow from private individuals. Con-
sider then, sir, whether you think that the rate of interest
should be lowered, and by these means eligible borrowers
be attracted, and if even thus such persons are not to be
found, whether the money should be distributed among
the Decurions, * on condition of their furnishing proper
security to the state; which arrangement — though they
may not like it, and may be for declining it — would be
made less burdensome, in consequence of a lower rate of
interest having been fixed.

o

55 (63).
Trajan to Pliny.

I myself can perceive no other remedy, my dearest
Secundus, than that the rate of interest should be lowered,
in order to facilitate the investment of the public moneys.

* The town-council.

356 PLINY'S LETTERS.

You yourself must fix the limit in accordance with the
number of those who shall be ready to borrow. To
compel persons against their will to take what they
themselves may perhaps find no employment for — this
is a course which does not accord with the equity of my

reign.

56 (64).

To Trajan.

I return you, sir, the deepest thanks for deigning,
amidst your great occupations, to direct me also as to
those matters on which I have consulted you, and I would
beg you to do this on the present occasion as well. Eor
a person has come to me and informed me that his adver-
saries, though banished for three years by that distin-
guished man Servilius Calvus, still remain in the province.
They, on the other hand, have affirmed that they were
reinstated by the same governor, and have recited his
edict to that effect. For this reason, I have thought it
necessary to refer the matter in its entirety to you. For
though it was provided in your mandates that I was not
to reinstate persons banished by a former governor, or by
myself, yet nothing was included in them on the subject
of those who had been both banished and reinstated by
a former governor. Therefore you, sir, had to be consulted
as to what practice you would have me follow, as also,
by Hercules, with regard to those who, though banished
for life and never reinstated, are caught in the province.
For this particular case too has fallen under my cognisance.
A person was brought before me who was banished for
life by Julius Bassus, the proconsul. Knowing that the
acts of Bassus had been rescinded, and that the Senate had
given to all those who had been the subjects of any of his
decisions the right of trying the matter afresh, that is
during a period of two years, I inquired of this person
whom Bassus had banished, whether he had gone to the

BOOK X. 357

proconsul and instructed him. He said he had not.
Hence I was brought to consult you as to whether he
should be remitted to his punishment or whether you
think that some still heavier penalty, and if so what
particular one, should be constituted for him and for those,
if such there happen to be, who may be found in a like
case. I have appended to this letter the decree of Calvus
and the edict, also the decree of Bassus.

57 (65.)
Tkajan to Pliny.

As to the determination to be arrived at in the case of
those persons who, having been banished for three years
by P. Servilius Calvus, the proconsul, were soon after-
wards reinstated by an edict of the same proconsul, and
have remained in the province, I will shortly write you
in reply, when I shall have inquired of Calvus himself
liis reasons for thus acting. The man who was banished
for life by Julius Bassus — inasmuch as he had the power
of taking action for the space of two years, in case he
thought himself unjustly banished, and yet failed to do
this, and moreover persisted in tarrying in the province —
must be sent a prisoner to my Praetorian prefects. For it
is not enough that he should be remitted to his former
punishment, after evading it by his contumacy.

58 {66).

To Tkajan.

On my summoning the judges, sir, when opening my
provincial court. Flavins Archippus began to plead excuse
on the ground of being a philosopher. It was said by some
that instead of being freed from the obhgation of acting
as judge, he ought to be removed altogether from the
judicial list, and remitted to the punishment which he had
escaped by breaking his chains. A decision of Velius

358 PLINY'S LETTERS.

Paulus, the proconsul, was cited, proving Archippus to
have been condemned to the mines on a charge of forgery.
He brought forward nothing to show that he had been
reinstated ; he alleged, however, in favour of his reinstate-
ment, a memorial presented by himself to Domitian, and
""etters of the latter in which he was honourably mentioned,
^s also as a decree of the Prusenses, To these he added a
letter written to him by yourself too, and an edict and a
letter of your father confirming the favours granted by
Domitian. Consequently, though such crimes were laid
to the charge of this man, I deemed that nothing should
be decreed till I had consulted you on a point which
seemed worthy of being settled by you. I have added to
this letter what was cited on both sides.

The Epistle of Domitian to Terentius Maximus.

Flavins Archippus, the philosopher, has begged me to
grant him, in the neighbourhood of Prusa, his native place,
some land sufficiently productive to maintain his family
by its revenue. I will that this be accorded him. The
whole sum expended you will charge to my liberality.

Of the same to L. Appius Maximus.

I desire to recommend to you, my dear Maximus,
Archippus the philosopher, a worthy man, and one whose
conduct answers to his profession ; and that you show him
the full measure of your kindness in such things as he
shall ask of you in moderation.

Edict of ISTerva.

There are some things, Quirites, without doubt, which
the felicity of these times spontaneously enjoins ; nor is
the goodness of a prince to be tested, in matters in which
it is sufficient that it be understood : since the assurance,
needing no reminder, of my subjects, is a warrant to them,
that I have preferred the general security to my own

BOOK X. 359

repose, in order to confer many new favours, as well as to
maintain those conceded before my time. In order, how-
ever, that no uncertainty may be introduced into the
public joy, either through the diffidence of those who
have obtained favours or through the recollection of him
who granted them, I have deemed it at the same time a
necessity and a pleasure, with the view of meeting all
suspicions, to announce my kindly intentions. I am un-
willing any one should suppose that what he has obtained
either privately or publicly from another prince will be
annulled by me, though it were only with the view of his
owing it to me rather than another. All these things
are hereby settled and confirmed : nor are fresh prayers
necessary to complete the enjoyment of any one on whom
the imperial favour has smiled. Let my subjects suffer
me to find leisure for fresh benefits, and let them know
that those things only are to be asked for which they do
not possess.

Letter of the same to Tullius Justus.

Inasmuch as all public ordinances which have received
a commencement and completion in former reigns are to
be observed, regard must also be paid to the letters of
Domitian.

59 (67)-
To Trajan.

Flavins Archippus has conjured me, "by your health
and immortality," to send you the memorial he has handed
to me. I have thought it right to comply with a request
so couched, on condition, however, of my informing the
prosecutrix that I was going to send it. I got a memorial
from her as well, and have appended it to these letters,
that having, as it were, heard both sides, you might be in
a better condition to judge what you think should be
determined.

36o PLINY'S LETTERS.

60 (68).

Teajan to Pliny.

Domitian, to be sure, may have been ignorant of the
situation of Archippus, when he wrote so much tending to
his honour. But it is more in accordance with my nature
to suppose that the intervention of the Emperor was
actually for the purpose of relieving his situation, espe-
cially as such an honour as that of a statue was so often
decreed to him by persons who were not ignorant of the
sentence passed on him by the Proconsul Paulus. All this,
however, my dearest Secundus, must not go so far as to
make you think you should be the slower to hear, in case
anything in the shape of a fresh charge is brought against
him. I have read the memorials of Puria Prima, the pro-
secutrix, also those of Archippus himself, which you
appended to your former letters.

61 (69).

To Trajan.

You, sir, to be sure, with your great forethought, are
apprehensive that if the lake * be made to communicate
with the river and so with the sea, it may be dried up.
I, however, who am on the spot, fancy I have discovered
a way of obviating this danger. The lake may be brought
by means of a canal up to the river, and yet not be dis-
charged into it, but be at the same time retained and kept
separate from it, by leaving, as it were, a margin between
the two. By this means we shall obtain as a result,
that while the lake shall not seem to be emptied by being
poured into the river, yet it will be as good as poured into
it. For over this very small intermediate space it will
be easy to transport to the river the cargoes brought to
that point by means of the canal. The work will be so
executed if necessity compels, though I hope it will not

* See Letter 41 of this book.

BOOK X. 361

compel. For not only is the lake sufficiently high of
itself, but also at the present moment it discharges a river
on the opposite side, which may be dammed off from that
direction, and diverted as we wish, and so, without any
loss to the lake, be made to give all the water which it
now carries. Moreover, on the ground along which the
canal will have to be made, rivulets occur which, if they are
carefully collected, will add to what the lake gives us. If,
again, it be decided to prolong the canal, to dig it narrower,
and to bring it on a level with the sea, and so to make it
communicate not with the river but with the sea itself,
the counter-pressure of the sea will preserve and keep
back whatever comes from the lake. If the nature of the
locality allowed of nothing of this kind, yet it would be
easy to check the rapidity of the stream by means of sluices.
However, these and other matters will be inquired into
and investigated with much more sagacity by the surveyor
whom you, sir, ought clearly to send according to promise.
For the matter is one worthy of your greatness and your
attention, I meanwhile have written to that distinguished
man, Calpurnius Macer, at your suggestion, to send me as
competent a surveyor as possible.

62 (70).

Trajan to Pliny.

It is clear, my dearest Secundus, that you have been
wanting neither in prudence nor in diligence in the matter
of the lake of which you speak : since you have provided
so many expedients, by means of which not only will there
be no danger of its being exhausted, but also it will be
made more serviceable to us. Choose, then, whatever the
circumstances themselves shall particularly recommend.
I take it that Calpurnius Macer will arrange to furnish
you with a surveyor, nor are those provinces deficient
in professionals of this kind.

362 PLINY'S LETTERS.

63(13).

To Trajan.

Lycormas, your freedman, has written me word, sir,
that if any embassy came here from Bosphorus, on its way
to Eome, it should be detained till his arrival, Now no
embassy has as yet come, at any rate to the city in which
I am : but a courier has come from the king of Sarmatia :
and availing myself of the opportunity which chance
offered, I have thought it right to send him on in company
with the courier who preceded Lycormas, that you might
be informed at the same time, by the letters of Lycormas
and those of the king, of matters which perhaps ought to
come to your knowledge at one and the same time.

64 (14).

To Trajan.

The king of Sarmatia has written me word that there
are some matters on which you ought to be informed as
soon as possible. For this reason I have helped to hasten
the courier, whom he has sent to you with despatches, by
the grant of a passport.

65 (71).
To Teajan.

A great question, sir, and one affecting the whole pro-
vince, is that of the status and keep of those who are
called " foundlings." In this matter, after hearing the
constitutions of the Emperors, as I could find nothing in
them either of a particular or a general kind applicable to
the Bithynians, I have judged it proper to consult you
as to the course you would have pursued: nor, indeed,
did I think that in a matter demanding your supreme
judgment I could possibly be satisfied with a mere pre-

BOOK X. 363

cedent. An edict was, however, cited to me, which was
said to be one by the Emperor Augustus relating to Annia.
Letters were also cited of the Emperor Vespasian to the
LacedaBmonians, of the Emperor Titus to the same, and of
Domitian to the proconsuls Avidius Nigrinus and Arme-
nius Brocchus, also to the Lacedaemonians. These I have
not sent to you, because they seemed to me to be mere
rough drafts and some of them of doubtful authenticity,
and because I believe the genuine and corrected letters to
be among your archives.

66 (72).
Tkajan to Pliny.

This question — relating to those who, born free, have
been exposed, and have been subsequently taken up by
certain parties and reared in servitude — has been often
treated of ; yet there is nothing to be found in the com-
mentaries of the Emperors who have preceded me, in the
shape of a settled rule for all the provinces. There are,
to be sure, letters of Domitian to Avidius Nigrinus and
Armenius Brocchus, which, perhaps, ought to be had in
regard, but between those provinces which are the subjects
of his rescript . . . among which is Bithynia. I think,
therefore, that an adjudication of freedom should not be
refused to those who claim their liberty on these grounds,*
and, moreover, that this same liberty does not need to be
purchased at the price of their keep.

67(15)-
To Teajan.

The ambassador of the king of Sarmatia having, of his
own choice, halted a couple of days at Nicaea, where he
found me, I judged, sir, that he ought not to be detained
longer : first, because it was still uncertain when your

* Ex ejusmodi causa, or "under these circumstances," "in cases of this
kind," as in Letter 68.

364 PLINY'S LETTERS.

freedman Lycormas would come, and next because I was
myself starting for the other side of the province where
the requirements of my office called me. I have thought
these circumstances should be brought to your knowledge,
because I recently wrote to you that Lycormas had asked
me to detain till his arrival any embassy that might come
from Bosphorus. No satisfactory reason occurs to me for
doing this any longer, particularly as the letters of Lycor-
mas (which I was unwilling, as I have before told you, to
detain) seemed likely to precede this ambassador by some
days.

68 (73)-
To Trajan.

Certain parties have petitioned me to allow them, in
accordance with the precedents of former governors, to
transfer the ashes of their relations, either on account of the
injuries done by time, or the encroachments of the river,
or on a variety of other similar grounds. Knowing that
at Rome, in cases of this kind, application is wont to be
made to the Pontifical College, I have thought it right to
consult you, sir, who are Pontifex Maximus, as to what
course you would have me follow.

69 (74).
Trajan to Pliny.

It would be hard to inflict on the provincials the neces-
sity of applying to the Pontifices, if they are desirous, on
any good grounds, of transferring the ashes of their rela-
tives from the place where these lie to some other. You
should, therefore, rather follow the precedents of those
who have governed that province : and give the permis-
sion, or refuse it in each case, according to the merits.

BOOK X. 365

70 (75).

To TllAJAN.

On my inquiring, sir, whereabouts in Prusa the hatha
which you have accorded could be built, I pitched upon a
spot where there was once, I am told, a fine house, now
an unsightly ruin. In this way we shall insure that the
extremely filthy aspect of the city will be improved, and
even that the city itself will be enlarged, without any
buildings being pulled down, but such as are crumbling
with age being rebuilt on a larger and improved scale.

The circumstances of this house, however, are as follows.
Claudius Polysenus left it by will to Claudius Caesar, with
the injunction that a temple should be raised to him in
the peristyle, and the rest of the house should be let. For
some time the commonwealth derived a revenue from it :
afterwards, by degrees, partly through plunder, partly
through neglect, the whole house has tumbled to pieces,
peristyle included : and indeed by this time hardly any-
thing of it remains but the ground on which it stood. If
you, sir, would either make a present of this ground to
the state, or order it to be sold, the act would be received
as a great boon, on account of the eligibility of the site.
For my part, if you will allow me, I design to place the
baths where the open court was, and to enclose the place
where the buildings were with a vestibule and colonnades
to be dedicated to you, the benefactor to whom will be
owing this handsome construction, worthy of your name.
I have forwarded you a copy, though it is an imperfect
one, of the will. From this you will see that Polysenus
left many things for the adornment of this same house,
which have disappeared with the house itself. However,
I will make as diligent inquiry as possible for them.

366 ■ PLINY'S LETTERS.

71 {76).

Tkajan to Pliny.

The inhabitants of Prusa are permitted to use the
courtyard with the ruined house, which you tell me is
vacant, for the construction of their baths. There is one
thing, however, which you have not made sufficiently
clear : whether the temple to Claudius was erected in the
peristyle. For if it was erected, then, although it may
have fallen down, the ground on which it stood is sacred.

72 {77).

To Trajan.

Having been applied to by certain parties to take
personal cognisance of claims of freedom and the resto-
ration of birthrights,* in accordance with the rescript of
Domitian written to Minucius Eufus, and the precedents
set by proconsuls, I referred to the acts of the Senate
pertaining to this kind of cause. It speaks of those
provinces only which are governed by proconsuls. Con-
sequently I have deferred the matter as it stands till you,
sir, shall have advised what course you would have me
follow.

72> {7^)-
Tkajan to Pliny.

When you have sent me the act of the Senate which
has caused you to hesitate, I shall judge whether you
oucfht to take cognisance of claims of freedom and the
restoration of birthriglits.

* Itestituendis natalibus. The put- free. This, it would seem, could only

ting of persons, born slaves, and be done by the Emperoi-, as a general

afterwards manumitted, into the rule,
same position as if they were born

BOOK X. 367

74 (16).
To Trajan.

Appuleius, sir, an officer quartered at Nicomedia, has
written to me of a certain person named Callidromus, who
having been detained by Maximus and Dionysius, two
bakers, in whose service he had engaged himself, fled for
refuge to your statue. Being brought before the magistrates,
he declared that he had formerly been in the service of
Laberius Maximus, that he was made prisoner by Susacrus
in Moesia, and sent by Decebalus as a present to Pacorus,
the king of Parthia, In his service he remained for a
number of years, and subsequently made his escape, and
so came to Nicomedia. I had him brought before me, and,
on his repeating the same story, have thought it right to
send him to you. This I have delayed doing for a short
time, while I searched for a gem which he declared had
been stolen from him, and which contained the portrait of
Pacorus in his insignia. For I wished to send this to you at
the same time, if it could have been found, as I have sent
a nugget which he says he brought from a mine in Parthia.
It is sealed up with my ring, the device of which is a
chariot with four horses.

75 (79).
To Tkajan.

Julius Largus of Pontus, sir, whom I had never seen or
even heard of — he must, to be sure, have confided in your
judgment * — has made nie, as it were, the steward and
minister of his affection towards you. For he has requested
me in his will to enter upon his estate, and after taking
for myself a sum of fifty thousand sesterces -}- to bestow the

* He must have felt sure that you an honourable man for governor— a
would have chosen none other than delicate mode of flattering Trajan.

t About ;^4oo.

368 PLINY'S LETTERS.

whole of the residue on the cities of Heraclea and Tios ;
with the proviso that it should be at my option to decide
whether buildings should be erected, to be consecrated in
honour of you, or quinquennial games should be instituted,
to be called the games of Trajan. I have thought it right
to bring this to your knowledge, chiefly that you might
consider what choice I ought to make.

76 (80).

Teajan to Pliny.

Julius Largus has selected you, for your good faith, as
though he had known you well. You must yourself, then,
consider what may best serve for perpetuating his memory,
in accordance with the conditions of each locality : and
what you shall deem most suitable, that do.

77 (81).
To Teajan.

You have acted most providently, sir, in ordering that
distinguished man Calpurnius Macer to send a legionary
centurion to Byzantium. Consider whether you are of
opinion that a similar privilege might be conferred on
the inhabitants of Juliopolis. Their city, being but a
very small one, has very great burdens to bear : and is
exposed to oppressions which are all the heavier in pro-
portion to its weakness. Moreover, whatever you accord
to the people of Juliopolis will be of service to the whole
province. For they are at the entrance of Bithynia, and
give passage to most of those who resort to it.

78 (82).

Teajan to Pliny.

The condition of the city of Byzantium is such, owing
to the great confluence of travellers into it from all parts,

BOOK X. 369

that, in accordance with the usage of previous times, I
considered it proper to provide for its repute by a Legionary-
Centurion's guard. If we shall think fit to assist the
people of Juliopolis in the same way, we shall be burden-
ing ourselves with a precedent. A number of others, and
all the more so, the weaker they are, will be making the
same request. I have such confidence in your diligence
as to believe that you will use every exertion to prevent
their being exposed to acts of oppression. If, however,
any persons shall behave themselves contrary to my in-
junctions, let them be at once imprisoned: or.: if their
offences are too great to be adequately punished in a
summary way;* in case they are soldiers, inform their
generals of what you have discovered : in case they are
coming to Eome, write to me.

79 (83).
To Teajan.

It was provided, sir, by a law of Pompey's given to the
Bithynians, that no person should hold a public office, or
sit in the Senate, under the age of thirty years. The
same law included a provision that those who had been
admitted to public offices should sit in the Senate. After
this came an edict of the Emperor Augustus, allowing
younger men to take office, the limit being two and twenty
years. The question is, then, whether a man under thirty
years of age, who has held office can be chosen by the
Censors as a senator ? And if he can, whether such also
as have not held it, can, by a like interpretation, be chosen
senators from the same age at which it is allowed them
to hold an office ? a thing which, besides f has not only
been often done up to the present time, but is even said to
be necessary, since it is somewhat better that the sons of
men of position should be admitted into the Senate rather

* Literally " on the spot." equivalent to the French " d'ail-

+ Alioij^ui. Here the word seems leurs."

2 A

370 PLINY'S LETTERS.

than plebeians. Having been asked for my opinion by
the Censors elect, I thought that those under thirty years
of age who had held office might be chosen senators, in
accordance both with the edict of Augustus and the law
of Pompey : inasmuch as Augustus had allowed persons
under thirty to hold office, and the law enacted that he
who had held office should be a senator. As to such as
had not held it, although of the same age as those who
had been allowed to hold it, I hesitated. Hence I have
been brought to consult you, sir, as to what course you
would have followed, I have appended to this edict the
heads of the law, also the edict of Augustus.

80 (84).

Teajan to Pliny.

I agree with you, dearest Secundus, in your interpre-
tation, that Pompey's law has been amended by the
Emperor Augustus's edict so far as this, that persons can
be admitted to public offices, who are not under twenty-
two years of age, and that such as had been so admitted
should find their way into the Senate of each common-
wealth. But, where no office has been entered on, I do
not think that those who are under thirty years are cap-
able of being chosen senators in their several localities, on
the ground that they are eligible for such offices.

81 (85).

To Teajan.

While I was employed in public business in my own
apartments at Prusa under Mount Olympus, sir, being
about to leave the same day, Asclepiades, a magistrate,
announced that an appeal had been lodged with me by
Claudius Eumolpus. Coccianus Dion having moved in
the Council that a construction which he had had the
charge of should be assigned to the city, thereupon

BOOK X. ^^^

Eumolpus, backed by Flavins Arcliippus, declared that
Dion should be required to furnish the accounts relatino-
to the construction before it was handed over to the city,
on the ground of his not having acted as he ought to have
done. He added, moreover, that in this same construction
there were placed, together with your statue, the corpses
of interred persons — those of Dion's wife and son ; and he
demanded that I should try the matter publicly.* Upon
my telling him that I would immediately do this, and
would adjourn my departure accordingly, he asked me to
grant a longer interval for the purpose of getting up the
case, and to try it in some other city. I replied that I
would hear it at Mcsea. When I had taken my seat there
for the purpose of trying it, the same Eumolpus, on the
plea of not yet being sufficiently prepared, began by asking
for an adjournment : Dion, on the other hand, demanded
that it should be heard. A great deal was said on both
sides, and on the merits of the case as well. Tor my part,
being of opinion that an adjournment should be granted,
and counsel taken of you in a matter likely to form a pre-
cedent, I told each side to give in a written statement of
their respective demands, for I desired that you should
know what was put forward, above all things, in the very
words of the parties themselves. Dion said he would give
this in, and Eumolpus replied that he would include in a
written statement his claims on behalf of the common-
wealth ; but that as regarded the interred bodies, he was
not the accuser, but only the advocate of Elavius Archip-
pus, whose instructions he had obeyed. Arcliippus, how-
ever, who stood by Eumolpus here as at Prusa, said that
he would hand in a statement. Such being the case,
neither Eumolpus nor Archipjius, though waited for for
many days, have as yet sent me their statements. Dion
has sent his, which I have joined to this letter. I myself
went to the spot, and saw that your statue was added to

* To place the statute of an emperor close to graves would be an act liable
to prosecution.

372 PLINY'S LETTERS.

the library. The edifice, however, where the son and wife
of Dion are said to be buried is situated in the courtyard,
which is enclosed by a colonnade. I pray, sir, that you
would deign to direct me, especially in such a kind of
investigation as this, as to which, moreover, great interest
is felt. Indeed this must be the case in a matter where
the charge is at the same time acknowledged and defended
by precedents.

82 {^6),
Trajan to Pliny.

You might have been free from doubt, dearest Secundus,
as to the matter on which you have thought it right to
consult me, since you perfectly well knew my settled pur-
pose not to attract awe to my name through fear or the
terrors of men, or charges of treason. Leaving out of the
question, then, an inquiry which I should not entertain
even if it were supported by precedents, let the entire
accounts of the construction carried out under the super-
vision of Coccianus Dion be investigated, since this is a
course demanded by the interests of the city, and wliich
Dion neither can oppose nor is entitled to oppose.

83 (87). .
To Trajan.

The Mcpeans have publicly entreated me, sir, by what
to me both are and ought to be most sacred, that is by
your wellbeing and immortal fame, that I would transmit
their prayers to you. Not thinking it right to refuse the
request, I have appended to this letter a memorial received
from them.

84 (88).
Trajan to Pliny.

It will be your duty to entertain the affair of the
Nicoeans, who affirm that the Emperor Augustus granted

BOOK X. 373

their city the right to claim the property of such of its
citizens as died intestate. You will have to convoke all
persons concerned in this business, summoning to your
assistance Virbius Gemellinus and Epimachus, my freed-
man, the imperial agents, in order that, having likewise
duly weighed what is urged on the opposite side, you may
together determine as you shall judge best.

85 (17).
To Trajan.

Having found Maximus, your freedman and agent, sir,
throughout the whole time that we have been together, to
be an upright, active, and diligent man, one who is devoted
to your interests, and at the same time most observant of
discipline, I gladly give my testimony in his favour with
that fidelity which I owe you.

86 a (18).

To Teajan.

Having found Gavins Bassus, sir, the prefect of the
Pontic coast, to be a man of integrity, uprightness, and
industry, and with all this most respectful towards myself,
1 tender my wishes and suffrages on his behalf with that
fidelity which I owe you.

86 b (18).

To Trajan.

. . . Trained by having served under your command, to
whose schooling he owes it that he is worthy of your
favour. Both soldiers and civilians, who have had
thorough experience of his impartiality and affability,
have vied with each other in conveying to me their testi-
mony, private as well as public, on his behalf. This I
bring to your notice with that fidelity which I owe you.

374 PLINY'S LETTERS.

87 (19).

To Teajan.

Nymphidius Lupus, sir, a former Primipilus,* was my
comrade in arms at the time when I myself was Tribune
and he was Praefect. From that time I began to cherish
him closely. Subsequently my regard for him grew from
the very length of our mutual friendship. On the strength
of this, I have laid violent hands on his repose, and have
forced him to assist me with his counsel in Bithynia.
This he has not only already done, but will continue to do
in the most friendly way, and laying aside all considerations
of ease and age. For these reasons I reckon his belongings
among my own, and particularly his son Nymphidius
Lupus, a young man of probity and energy, one in every
way worthy of his distinguished father, and who will do
credit to your indulgent notice of him. This indeed you
may learn from the first proofs he has given as Prajfect of
a cohort, in which capacity he gained the highest character
from those eminent men, Julius Perox and Fuscus Sali-
nator. My joy and self-congratulation will be satisfied by
the advancement of the son.

88 (89).

To Teajan.

I pray, sir, that you may have the happiest of birthdays,
and many others like it, and that in strength and security
you may ever be adding by fresh achievements to that
glory flourishing with immortal renown, which you derive
from your virtues.

* The Primipilus was a centuriou sise the fact that Nymphidius Lupus

of high rank, who carried the eagle had filled the responsible office of

of the legion. Those who had served Primipilus before rising to the higher

the office were styled Primipilares. grade of Prcefectus.
Here Pliny probably wishes to enipha-

BOOK X.

375

89 (90).

Teajan to Pliny.

I acknowledge with thanks, dearest Secundus, the
prayers you offer that I may have many birthdays, and very
happy ones, with our country in a flourishing condition.

90 (91).

To Teajan.

The inhabitants of Sinope, sir, are short of water, which
it seems might be brought in, of good quality and in
abundance, from a distance of sixteen miles. There is,
however, close upon the source, that is a little more than
a mile off, a suspicious and boggy spot : this I have mean-
while ordered to be examined, at a small expense, to see
whether it is capable of receiving and supporting an aque-
duct. We shall not want for money, which I have taken
care to collect, provided you, sir, accord this kind of con-
struction in view of the salubrity and attractiveness of a
very thirsty town.

91 (92).

Trajan to Pliny.

As you have begun, dearest Secundus, so go on care-
fully to investigate whether the particular spot, which is
suspicious to you, can bear such a work as an aqueduct,
Por I do not doubt that water should be brought into the
town of Sinope, provided the town itself can effect this at
its own charge only : since such a result would add much
both to its salubrity and to its agreeableness.

92 (93)-
To Teajan.

The free and confederate city of the Amiseni, by favour
of your indulgence, enjoys its own laws. A petition was

376 PLINY'S LETTERS.

handed to me there relatincc to " Charitable Collections,"
which I have appended to this letter, that you, sir, might
judge what things (and how far things of this kind) should
be either allowed or prohibited.

93 (94)-
Teajax to Pliny.

As to the Amiseni, whose petition you have appended
to your letter: if by their laws (which they enjoy in
virtue of their confederation with us) it is permitted them
to have charitable collections, we cannot prevent their
doing so : and all the less, if they employ contributions of
this kind, not in assembling crowds and illegal gatherings,
but in aiding the needs of the indigent. In the other
cities which are bound by our laws, things of this kind
must be prohibited.

94 (95)-
To Teajan.

Suetonius Tranquillus, sir, is a most upright, honour-
able, and learned man. Having long been attracted by
his character and studious pursuits, I have admitted him
to my intimacy, and the more closely I have observed
him, the more have I begun to cherish him. The rights
enjoyed by those who have three children * are rendered
a necessity to him for two reasons. His deserts often
obtain for him a mention in his friends' wills, and at the
same time his marriage has not turned out fruitful.t It
is from your bounty that he must obtain, through my
intercession, what the malignity of Fortune has refused
him. I know, sir, how great is the favour which I ask.
But it is of you that I am asking it, you whose indulgence

* See ii. 13. incapable of taking bequests in their

"Y By the Lex Papia Poppsea, mar- entirety, a portion going, as we should
ried persons, without children, were term it, "to the Crown."

BOOK X. 377

I experience in all iny requests. Yon may, moreover,
gather how ardent must be my desire in a matter which I
should not ask you for, when absent fromt^you, if that
dffisire were merely of an ordinary character. lO^

ad>)
95 (96). t/

TiiAJAN TO Pliny,

How sparing I am in bestowing such favours as these
you must certainly remember, my dearest Secundus, see-
ing that I often declare in the Senate itself that I have
not gone beyond the number of favoured persons which,
in the presence of that illustrious assembly, I promised
should suffice me. However, I have subscribed to your
wishes, and have ordered it to be entered on my registers,
that I have accorded to Suetonius Tranquillus the rights
of those who have three children, on the usual conditions.

96(97),
To Tkajan,

It is with me, sir, an established custom to refer to you
all matters on which I am in doubt. Who, indeed, is
better able, either to direct my scruples or to instruct my
imorance ?

I have never been present at trials of Christians, and
consequently do not know for what reasons, or how far,
punishment is usually inflicted or inquiry made in
their case, Nor have my hesitations been slight : as to
whether any distinction of age should be made, or persons
however tender in years should be viewed as differing in
no respect from the full-grown : whether pardon should
be accorded to repentance, or he who has once been a
Christian should gain nothing by having ceased to be one :
whether the very profession itself if unattended by crime,
or else the crimes necessarily attaching to the profession,
should be made the subject of punishment.

378 PLINY'S LETTERS.

Meanwhile, in, the case of those who have been broug ht
before me in the character of Christians, my course has
been as folJ.ws: — I put it to themselves whether thjy
were or we' not Christians. To such as professed tlJat
they we;^ ^ put the inquiry a second and a third time,
X _ \ ^ them with the supreme penalty. Those who

•persisted, I ordered to execution. For, indeed, I could
not doubt, whatever might be the nature of that which
they professed, that their pertinacity, at any rate, and
inflexible obstinacy, ought to be punished. There were
others afflicted with like madness, with regard to whom,
as they were Eoman citizens, I made a memorandum that
they were to be sent for judgment to Eome. / Soon, the
very handling of this matter causing, as often happens,
the area of the charge to spread, many fresh examples
occurred. An anonymous paper was put forth containing
the names of many persons. Those who denied that they
either were or had been Christians, upon their calling on
the gods after me, and upon their offering wine and in-
cense before your statue, which for this purpose I had
ordered to be introduced in company with the images of
the gods, moreover upon their reviling Christ — none of
which things it is said can such as are really and truly
(Christians be compelled to do — these I deemed it proper
t|o dismiss. Others named by the informer admitted that
tney were Christians, and then shortly afterwards denied
ic>.adding that they had been Christians, but had ceased
to be so, some three years, some many years, more than
one of them as much as twenty years, before. All these,
too, not only honoured your image and the effigies of the
gods, but also reviled Christ. They affirmed, however,
that this had been the sum, whether of their crime or
their delusion ; they had been in the habit of meeting
together on a stated day, before sunrise, and of offering in
turns a form of invocation to Christ, as to a god ; also of
binding themselves by an oath, not for any guilty purpose,
but not to commit thefts, or robberies, or adulteries, not

BOOK X. 379

to break their word, not to repudiate deposits when called
upon ; these ceremonies having been gone through, they
had been in the habit of separating, and again meeting
together for the purpose of taking food — food, that is, of
an ordinary and innocent kind. They had, however,
ceased from doing even this, after my edict, in which,
following your orders, I had forbidden the existence of
Fraternities. This made me think it all the more neces-
sary to inquire, even by torture, of two maid-servants,
who were styled deaconesses, what the truth was. I
could discover nothing else than a vicious and extrava-
gant superstition : consequently, having adjourned the
inquiry, I have had recourse to your counsels. Indeed,
the matter seemed to me a proper one for consultation,
chiefly on account of the number of persons imperilled.
For many of all ages and all ranks, ay, and of both sexes,
are being called, and will be called, into danger. Nor
are cities only permeated by the contagion of this super-
stition, but villages and country parts as well ; ' yet it
seems possible to stop it and cure it. It is in truth
sufficiently evident that the temples, which were almost
entirely deserted, have begun to be frequented, that the
customary religious rites which had long been interrupted
are being; resumed, and that there is a sale for the food of
sacrificial beasts, for which hitherto very few buyers in-
deed could be found. From all this it is easy to form an
opinion as to the great number of persons who may be
reclaimed, if only room be granted for penitence.

97 (98).
Trajan to Pliny.

You have followed the right mode of procedure, my
dear Secundus, in investigating the cases of those who
had been brought before you as Christians. For, indeed,
it is not possible to establish any universal rule, possess-
ing as it were a fixed form. These people should not be

38o PLINY'S LETTERS.

searched for ; if tliey are informed against and convicted
they should be punished ; yet, so that he who shall deny
being a Christian, and shall make this plain in action, that
is by worshipping our gods, even though suspected on
account of his past conduct, shall obtain pardon by his
penitence. Anonymous informations, however, ought not
to be allowed a standing in any kind of charge ; a course
which would not only form the worst of precedents, but
which is not in accordance with the spirit of our time.

98 (99).
To Tkajan.

The city of Amastris, sir, which is handsome and taste-
fully built, possesses among its finest constructions a very
beautiful and at the same time very long boulevard, all
along one side of which runs what indeed is called, a river,
but is in reality a very foul sewer, hideous with its filthy
aspect, and equally pestilent from its disgusting odour.
For this reason it is a concern of salubrity no less than of
appearance, that it should be covered up. This shall be
done, with your permission, on our undertaking that
money too shall not be wanting for the execution of a
work as important as it is necessary.

99 (100).

Tkajan to Pliny.

It stands to reason, my dearest Secundus, that the water
in question which flows through the city of Amastris
should be covered up, if in its uncovered state it is in-
jurious to health. As to money not failing for the work,
that I am confident you will see to with your customary
diligence.

BOOK X. 381

100 (lOl).

To Tkajan.

We have acquitted ourselves, sir, witli joy and alacrity
of the vows offered up last year, and have taken on our-
selves fresh ones, troops and provincials vying with each
other in loyal affection. We have prayed the gods to
preserve you and the commonwealth in prosperity and
safety, with all the favour which — in addition to your
other great and numerous virtues — you have merited by
your exemplary piety, submission, and godliness.

loi (102).

Teajan to Pliny.

I have been pleased to learn from your letter, my dearest
Secundus, that troops and provincials have, with most
cheerful consent, acquitted themselves of their vows for
my safety to the immortal gods, yourself leading the way,
and that they have offered fresh vows for the future.

102 (103).

To Teajan.

We have celebrated, with due rites, the day on which
the guardianship of the human race was transferred to you,
by a most happy succession ; commending to the gods, the
ordainers of your rule, our public vows and our joys.

103 (104).

Teajan to Pliny.

I have been pleased to learn from your letter that
the day of my accession has been celebrated with due

382 PLINY S LETTERS.

joyfulness and religious rites by the troops and provincials,
yourself leading the way.

104 (105).

To Teajan.

Valerius Paulinus, sir, has bequeathed to me the
patronage of his freedmen, to the exclusion of Paulinus.
Of these, I pray you to grant the Eoman citizenship to
three for the present ; for I fear it would be exceeding the
bounds to invoke your favour on behalf of all of them at
the same time ; a favour which it behoves me to be all the
more modest in availing myself of, in proportion to the
great fulness in which I experience it. These, how^ever,
for whom I am applying are, C. Valerius Astrseus, C.
Valerius Dionysius, and C. Valerius Axer.

105 (106).

Teajan to Pliny.

It is most generous on your part to seek the speedy
advantage, through my agency, of those who have been
confided to your honour by Valerius Paulinus ; accordingly,
I have ordered an entry to be made in my registers to the
effect that I have granted the Eoman citizenship to those,
for the present, for whom you have now asked it ; and will
do the same for others on behalf of whom you shall here-
after ask it.

106 (107).

To Teajan.

Having been requested, sir, by P. Accius Aquila, a
centurion of the Sixth Cavalry Cohort,* to forward you

* i.e., z. mixed cohort of cavalry and infantry.

BOOK X. 383

a memorial, in which he implores your favourable con-
sideration of his daughter's status, I thought it hard
to refuse him, knowing as I do the great patience and
kindliness which you exhibit towards the prayers of

soldiers.

107 (108).

Teajan to Pliny.

I have read the memorial of P. Accius Aquila, a
centurion in the Sixth Cavalry Cohort, which you
forwarded to me, and, moved by his prayers, I have
granted the Eoman citizenship to his daughter. I have
forwarded to you a certificate of the rescript,* for you to
hand to him.

108 (109).

To Teajan.

I should be obliged, sir, by your writing me word as to
the rights you would wish the cities of Bithynia and
Pontus to enjoy, in respect to calling in moneys owing to
them either in the shape of rent, or for sales of property,
or for any other reason. For my part, I have found that
a preference over other creditors has been accorded them
by most of the proconsuls, and has obtained the force of
law. I am of opinion, however, that some rule should be
established, and ratified by your wisdom, of a kind to
conduce to their permanent interests. Eor as for what
has been instituted by others, wise as such grants may
have been, yet they are but temporary, and wanting in
stability, unless they should enjoy the advantage of your
authorisation.

* Libdlum rescripti must correspond here to our ' ' certificate of naturalisa-
tion."

384 PLINY'S LETTERS.

109 (no).
Tkajan to Pliny.

As to the rights which the cities of Bithynia and
Pontus should enjoy in the matter of moneys which
shall be owing, on any account, to the commonwealth,
this must be looked to, according to the laws of each
city. For in case it possesses a privilege in virtue of
which it is preferred to the remaining creditors, then that
privilege must be observed ; in case it does not possess it,
it will not be proper that it should be granted by me, to
the detriment of private individuals.

no (in).

To Tkajan.

The Syndic of the city of Amisus, sir, has sued Julius
Piso before me for a sum of about forty thousand denarii,*
a public grant made to him twenty years ago, with the
consent of the Senate and assembled Commons : citing
your ordinances by which donations of this kind are for-
bidden. Piso, in reply, said that he had contributed large
sums, and, indeed, spent nearly the whole of his means, on
behalf of the commonwealth. He pleaded further the
lapse of time, and begged that he might not be forced to
give back, to the ruin of his remaining fortunes, that which
he had received in return for many services, and a long
while ago. Upon this I have thought it right to adjourn
the whole case, in order to consult you, sir, as to the
course you would have pursued.

Ill (112).

Tkajan to Pliny.

Although my ordinances forbid the making of largesses
on public account, yet, to prevent the security of many

* The denarius was worth about 8|d.

BOOK X. 385

persons from being undermined, when these have been
made some time ago, it is not expedient that they should
be reconsidered and their invalidity established. What-
ever, then, shall have been done not less tlian twenty
years before, in this case, must be passed over. For I
desire to have regard for the individuals of each place, no
less than the public moneys.

112(113).

To Tkajan.

By the law of Pompey, sir, by which the inhabitants of
Bithynia and Pontus are governed, such persons as are
chosen into the council by the censors are not ordered to
pay any fee. Those, however, whom your favour has per-
mitted certain of the cities to add over and above the
lawful number, have contributed sometimes a thousand,
sometimes two thousand, denarii apiece.* Upon this, the
proconsul, Anicius Maximus, ordered such likewise as
were chosen by the censors (that is to say, in a small
number of cities) to pay fees of various amounts. It
remains for you yourself to consider whether in all the
cities all persons who shall hereafter be chosen councillors
ought not to pay some fixed sum as an entrance fee ; for
it becomes you to make a permanent settlement, whose
words and deeds immortality awaits.

113 (114).

Teajan to Pliny,

It is impossible for me to lay down a general rule as to
whether all persons who in every city of Bithynia are
created councillors f should, or should not, furnish an
honorarium on their admission to the councilship. I

* About ;^35 to £^o. 8. The ending of this letter is imiier-

+ Decu7-iones, as in Bk. I. Letter feet and corrupt.

2 B

386 PLINY'S LETTERS.

think, then — and this is always the safest course — that
the law of each city should be followed. , . .

114(115)-
To Trajan.

By the law of Ponipey, sir, it is permitted to the cities
of Bithynia to enroll among their citizens any persons
they please, provided they are not of any of the other
cities in Bithynia. In the same law are enacted the
grounds on which persons may be ejected from the Senate
by the censors. Upon this, certain of the censors thought
it right to consult me as to whether they ought to eject
one who was from another city. Inasmuch as the law,
though forbidding the enrolment of one from another
city, yet did not order that this should be a ground of
ejection from the Senate ; moreover, since I was assured
that in every city there were a number of councillors from
other cities, and that much disturbance would be caused
to many individuals and to many cities, . . . that part of
the law which had long since become obsolete through a
kind of general consent, ... I have thought it necessary
to consult you as to what you would have observed. I
have appended to this letter the principal clauses of the
law.

115 (116).

Trajan to Pliny.

!N"o wonder you were in doubt, dearest Secundus, as to
the proper reply for you to make to the censors who con-
sulted you. . . . For the authority of the law on the one
hand, and, on the other, the long usage which has obtained
in opposition to the law, might well move you in opposite
directions. I have decided upon thus compromising the
matter : that we make no change in what is past, but that
the citizens who have been naturalised, though illegally, of

BOOK X. 387

whatever city they be, shall remain where they are ; for
the future, however, that Pompey's law be observed. If
we were for maintaining its provisions retrospectively as
well, much disturbance would necessarily follow.

116 (117).

To Trajan.

Persons who attain their majority, or contract a mar-
riage, or enter on a public office, or inaugurate a public
work, are in the habit of inviting the whole of the council,
and even a considerable number of the population, and
presenting them with a couple of denarii,* and sometimes
one, per man. I should be obliged by your writing me
word whether you think these celebrations should be per-
mitted, and if so, how far. For my part, although I am
of opinion that the right to issue invitations should be
conceded, especially on solemn occasions, yet at the same
time I fear that those who invite a thousand individuals,
and sometimes even more, may seem to exceed the bounds,
and to fall into an appearance of distributing largesses.

117 (118).
Trajan to Pliny.

No wonder you are afraid that an invitation " should
fall into an appearance of distributing largesses," which
not only exceeds the bounds in point of numbers, but also
collects together to a ceremonious dole people in bands, so
to speak, not man by man, each one on grounds of personal
acquaintance. But I have made choice of your intelli-
gence on this very account, that in forming the manners
of that province of yours you should yourself ordain and
establish what may be of advantage to the permanent
quiet of the province.

* The denarius was worth about eightpence-halfpeDny.

388 PLINY'S LETTERS.

118(119).

To Tkajan.

The athletes, sir, consider that the rewards which you
have established in the case of the Iselastic * contests are
owing to them from the very day on which they were
crowned; for they say it is not at all material at what
time they made their public entry into their native place,
but at what time they were victors in the contest, by
reason of which they were empowered to make such
entry. I, on the other hand, observe that they have been
given under the name of " Iselastic ; " and this makes me
strongly inclined to doubt whether it be not rather the
time of their making their public entry which must be
looked at.

These same persons ask for pensions in the case of a
contest, which has been made an Iselastic one by you,
though they should have been victors before it was so
made. For they say it is only consistent that just as this
money is not given them for those contests which have
ceased to be Iselastic after th6ir victory, so it should be
given to them for those which have begun to be Iselastic
after their victory. Here, too, I am in no small doubt
whether one can take account of what is past, and whether
anything should be given them which was not owing to
them at the time when they were victors. I pray you,
then, to deign to determine my doubts, that is to say, to
interpret your own benefactions.

119 (120).
Tea JAN TO Pliny.
The Iselastic rewards ought, it seems to me, to begin

* Contests in public games, the a public entry into his city, from
victor in which was entitled to make etVeXai/rw, to enter, drive in.

BOOK X. 389

from the time when a man has made his personal entry
into his own city. Pensions for those contests which I
have been pleased to make Iselastic, in case they were not
Iselastic before, are not due retrospectively. Nor can it
avail in view of the athletes' request, that they ceased to
receive these monies for those contests which subsequently
to their victory I decided should not be Iselastic. For
though the character of these contests was changed, never-
theless what these people had previously received is not
asked for back again.

"O"

120 (121).

To Trajan.

Up to this time, sir, I have never accommodated any-
body witli a passport, or issued one for any other service
than your own. A kind of necessity has broken through
this constant practice of mine. For my wife having heard
of the death of her grandfather, and being desirous of
setting off to lier aunt's, I thought it hard to deny her the
use of a passport, seeing that the whole grace of such an
attention consisted in its expedition, and that I knew I
could give good reason for a journey the motive of which
was family affection. This I liave written to you, because
it seemed to me that I should be deficient in gratitude if
I concealed the fact of my being indebted to your kind-
ness, among other favours, for this one. I mean, that my
confidence in your kindness has caused me not to hesitate
in doing, without consulting you, what if 1 had consulted
you, would have been done too late.

121 (122).
Trajan to Pliny.

You were right, dearest Secundus, in being confident in
my intentions. Nor could you hesitate to do what would

2 c

390 PLINY'S LETTERS.

have been done too late if you had consulted me as to
whether your wife's journey should be aided by passports
such as I have authorised you to issue, particularly as your
wife was bound, in the case of her aunt, to enhance the
grace of her arrival by her expedition.

THE END

rRINlED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.
EDINBURGH AND I.ONbON

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PA Plinius Caecilius Secundus, G

6639 The letters of the younger

E5H Pliny

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