Letters of Pliny
You, who are so well qualified for the enquiry, will examine into the
causes of this wonderful phenomenon; it will be sufficient for me if I
have given you an adequate description of it. Farewell.
XLIX -- To ANNIUS SEVERUS
A SMALL legacy was lately left me, yet one more acceptable than a far
larger bequest would have been. How more acceptable than a far larger
one? In this way. Pomponia Gratilla, having disinherited her son
Assidius Curianus, appointed me of one of her heirs, and Sertorius
Severus, of pretorian rank, together with several eminent Roman knights,
co-heirs along with me. The son applied to me to give him my share of
the inheritance, in order to use my name as an example to the rest of
the joint-heirs, but offered at the same time to enter into a secret
agreement to return me my proportion. I told him, it was by no means
agreeable to my character to seem to act one way while in reality I was
acting another, besides it was not quite honourable making presents to a
man of his fortune, who had no children; in a word, this would not at
all answer the purpose at which he was aiming, whereas, if I were to
withdraw my claim, it might be of some service to him, and this I was
ready and willing to do, if he could clearly prove to me that he was
unjustly disinherited.
"Do then," he said, "be my arbitrator in this case." After a short pause
I answered him, "I will, for I don't see why I should not have as good
an opinion of my own impartial disinterestedness as you seem to have.
But, mind, I am not to be prevailed upon to decide the point in question
against your mother, if it should appear she had just reason for what
she has done." "As you please," he replied, "which I am sure is always
to act according to justice." I called in, as my assistants, Corellius
and Frontinus, two of the very best lawyers Rome at that time afforded.
With these in attendance, I heard the case in my own chamber. Curianus
said everything which he thought would favour his pretensions, to whom
(there being nobody but myself to defend the character of the deceased)
I made a short reply; after which I retired with my friends to
deliberate, and, being agreed upon our verdict, I said to him,
"Curianus, it is our opinion that your conduct has justly drawn upon you
your mother's displeasure." Sometime afterwards, Curianus commenced a
suit in the Court of the Hundred against all the co-heirs except myself.
The day appointed for the trial approaching, the rest of the co-heirs
were anxious to compromise the affair and have done with it, not out of
any diffidence of their cause, but from a distrust of the times. They
were apprehensive of what had happened to many others, happening to
them, and that from a civil suit it might end in a criminal one, as
there were some among them to whom the friendship of Gratilla and
Rusticus[73] might be extremely prejudicial: they therefore desired me
to go and talk with Curianus. We met in the temple of Concord; "Now
supposing," I said, "your mother had left you the fourth part of her
estate, or even suppose she had made you sole heir, but had exhausted so
much of the estate in legacies that there would not be more than a
fourth part remaining to you, could you justly complain? You ought to be
content, therefore, if, being absolutely disinherited as you are, the
heirs are willing to relinquish to you a fourth part, which however I
will increase by contributing my proportion. You know you did not
commence any suit against me, and two years have now elapsed, which
gives me legal and indisputable possession. But to induce you to agree
to the proposals on the part of the other co-heirs, and that you may be
no sufferer by the peculiar respect you shew me, I offer to advance my
proportion with them." The silent approval of my own conscience is not
the only result out of this transaction; it has contributed also to the
honour of my character. For it is this same Cunianus who has left me the
legacy I have mentioned in the beginning of my letter, and I received it
as a very notable mark of his approbation of my conduct, if I do not
flatter myself. I have written and told you all this, because in all my
joys and sorrows I am wont to look upon you as myself, and I thought it
would be unkind not to communicate to so tender a friend whatever
occasions me a sensible gratification; for I am not philosopher enough
to be indifferent, when I think I have acted like an honour-able man,
whether my actions meet with that approval which is in some sort their
due. Farewell.
L -- To TITIUS ARISTO
AMONG the many agreeable and obliging instances I have received of your
friendship, your not concealing from me the long conversations which
lately took place at your house concerning my verses, and the various
judgments passed upon them (which served to prolong the talk,) is by no
means the least. There were some, it seems, who did not disapprove of my
poems in themselves, but at the same time censured me in a free and
friendly way, for employing myself in composing and reciting them. I am
so far, however, from desiring to extenuate the charge that I willingly
acknowledge myself still more deserving of it, and confess that I
sometimes amuse myself with writing verses of the gayer sort. I compose
comedies, divert myself with pantomimes, read the lyric poets, and enter
into the spirit of the most wanton muse, besides that, I indulge myself
sometimes in laughter, mirth, and frolic, and, to sum up every kind of
innocent relaxation in one word, I am a man. I am not in the least
offended, though, at their low opinion of my morals, and that those who
are ignorant of the fact that the most learned, the wisest, and the best
of men have employed themselves in the same way, should be surprised at
the tone of my writings: but from those who know what noble and numerous
examples I follow, I shall, I am confident, easily obtain permission to
err with those whom it is an honour to imitate, not only in their most
serious occupations but their lightest triflings. Is it unbecoming me (I
will not name any living example, lest I should seem to flatter), but is
it unbecoming me to practise what became Tully, Calvus, Pollio, Messala,
Hortensius, Brutus, Sulla, Catulus, Scaevola, Sulpitius, Varro, the
Torquati, Memmius, Gaetulicus, Seneca, Lucceius, and, within our own
memory, Verginius Rufus? But if the examples of private men are not
sufficient to justify me, I can cite Julius Casar, Augustus, Nerva, and
Tiberius Casar. I forbear to add Nero to the catalogue, though I am
aware that what is practised by the worst of men does not therefore
degenerate into wrong: on the contrary, it still maintains its credit,
if frequently countenanced by the best. In that number, Virgil,
Cornelius Nepos, and prior to these, Ennius and Attius, justly deserve
the most distinguished place. These last indeed were not senators, but
goodness knows no distinction of rank or title. I recite my works, it is
true, and in this instance I am not sure I can support myself by their
examples. They, perhaps, might be satisfied with their own judgment, but
I have too humble an opinion of mine to suppose my compositions perfect,
because they appear so to my own mind. My reason then for reciting are,
that, for one thing, there is a certain deference for one's audience,
which excites a somewhat more vigorous application, and then again, I
have by this means an opportunity of settling any doubts I may have
concerning my performance, by observing the general opinion of the
audience. In a word, I have the advantage of receiving different hints
from different persons: and although they should not declare their
meaning in express terms, yet the expression of the countenance, the
movement of the head, the eyes, the motion of a hand, a whisper, or even
silence itself will easily distinguish their real opinion from the
language of politeness. And so if any one of my audience should have the
curiosity to read over the same performance which he heard me read, he
may find several things altered or omitted, and perhaps too upon his
particular judgment, though he did not say a single word to me. But I am
not defending my conduct in this particular, as if I had actually
recited my works in public, and not in my own house before my friends, a
numerous appearance of whom has upon many occasions been held an honour,
but never, surely, a reproach. Farewell.
LI -- To NONIUS MAXIMUS
I AM deeply afflicted with the news I have received of the death of
Fannius; in the first place, because I loved one so eloquent and
refined, in the next, because I was accustomed to be guided by his
judgment--and indeed he possessed great natural acuteness, improved by
practice, rendering him able to see a thing in an instant. There are
some circumstances about his death, which aggravate my concern. He left
behind him a will which had been made a considerable time before his
decease, by which it happens that his estate is fallen into the hands of
those who had incurred his displeasure, whilst his greatest favourites
are excluded. But what I particularly regret is, that he has left
unfinished a very noble work in which he was employed. Notwithstanding
his full practice at the bar, he had begun a history of those persons
who were put to death or banished by Nero, and completed three books of
it. They are written with great elegance and precision, the style is
pure, and preserves a proper medium between the plain narrative and the
historical: and as they were very favourably received by the public, he
was the more desirous of being able to finish the rest. The hand of
death is ever, in my opinion, too untimely and sudden when it falls upon
such as are employed in some immortal work. The sons of sensuality, who
have no outlook beyond the present hour, put an end every day to all
motives for living, but those who look forward to posterity, and
endeavour to transmit their names with honour to future generations by
their works--to such, death is always immature, as it still snatches
them from amidst some unfinished design. Fannius, long before his death,
had a presentiment of what has happened: he dreamed one night that as he
was lying on his couch, in an undress, all ready for his work, and with
his desk,[74] as usual, in front of him, Nero entered, and placing
himself by his side, took up the three first books of this history,
which he read through and then departed. This dream greatly alarmed him,
and he regarded it as an intimation, that he should not carry on his
history any farther than Nero had read, and so the event has proved. I
cannot reflect upon this accident without lamenting that he was
prevented from accomplishing a work which had cost him so many toilsome
vigils, as it suggests to me, at the same time, reflections on my own
mortality, and the fate of my writings: and I am persuaded the same
apprehensions alarm you for those in which you are at present employed.
Let us then, my friend, while life permits, exert all our endeavours,
that death, whenever it arrives, may find as little as possible to
destroy. Farewell.
LII -- To DOMITIUS APOLLINARIS
THE kind concern you expressed on hearing of my design to pass the
summer at my villa in Tuscany, and your obliging endeavours to dissuade
me from going to a place which you think unhealthy, are extremely
pleasing to me. It is quite true indeed that the air of that part of
Tuscany which lies towards the coast is thick and unwholesome: but my
house stands at a good distance from the sea, under one of the Apennines
which are singularly healthy. But, to relieve you from all anxiety on my
account, I will give you a description of the temperature of the
climate, the situation of the country, and the beauty of my villa,