Letters of Pliny
resolved to die; and that neither her own entreaties nor her daughter's
could move him from his purpose; I was the only person left who could
reconcile him to life. I ran to his house with the utmost precipitation.
As I approached it, I met a second messenger from Hispulla, Julius
Atticus, who informed me there was nothing to be hoped for now, even
from me, as he seemed more hardened than ever in his purpose. He had
said, indeed to his physician, who pressed him to take some nourishment,
"'Tis resolved": an expression which, as it raised my admiration of the
greatness of his soul, so it does my grief for the loss of him. I keep
thinking what a friend, what a man, I am deprived of. That he had
reached his sixty-seventh year, an age which even the strongest seldom
exceed, I well know; that he is released from a life of continual pain;
that he has left his dearest friends behind him, and (what was dearer to
him than all these) the state in a prosperous condition: all this I
know. Still I cannot forbear to lament him, as if he had been in the
prime and vigour of his days; and I lament him (shall I own my
weakness?) on my account. And--to confess to you as I did to Calvisius,
in the first transport of my grief--I sadly fear, now that I am no
longer under his eye, I shall not keep so strict a guard over my
conduct. Speak comfort to me then, not that he was old, he was infirm;
all this I know: but by supplying me with some reflections that are new
and resistless, which I have never heard, never read, anywhere else. For
all that I have heard, and all that I have read, occur to me of
themselves; but all these are by far too weak to support me under so
severe an affliction. Farewell.
IX -- To SOCIUS SENECIO
This year has produced a plentiful crop of poets: during the whole month
of April scarcely a day has passed on which we have not been entertained
with the recital of some poem. It is a pleasure to me to find that a
taste for polite literature still exists, and that men of genius do come
forward and make themselves known, notwithstanding the lazy attendance
they got for their pains. The greater part of the audience sit in the
lounging-places, gossip away their time there, and are perpetually
sending to enquire whether the author has made his entrance yet, whether
he has got through the preface, or whether he has almost finished the
piece. Then at length they saunter in with an air of the greatest
indifference, nor do they condescend to stay through the recital, but go
out before it is over, some slyly and stealthily, others again with
perfect freedom and unconcern. And yet our fathers can remember how
Claudius Cæsar walking one day in the palace, and hearing a great
shouting, enquired the cause: and being informed that Nonianus[11] was
reciting a composition of his, went immediately to the place, and
agreeably surprised the author with his presence. But now, were one to
bespeak the attendance of the idlest man living, and remind him of the
appointment ever so often, or ever so long beforehand; either he would
not come at all, or if he did would grumble about having "lost a day!"
for no other reason but because he had not lost it. So much the more do
those authors deserve our encouragement and applause who have resolution
to persevere in their studies, and to read out their compositions in
spite of this apathy or arrogance on the part of their audience. Myself
indeed, I scarcely ever miss being present upon any occasion; though, to
tell the truth, the authors have generally been friends of mine, as
indeed there are few men of literary tastes who are not. It is this
which has kept me in town longer than I had intended. I am now, however,
at liberty to go back into the country, and write something myself;
which I do not intend reciting, lest I should seem rather to have lent
than given my attendance to these recitations of my friends, for in
these, as in all other good offices, the obligation ceases the moment
you seem to expect a return. Farewell.
X -- To JUNSUS MAURICUS
You desire me to look out a proper husband for your niece: it is with
justice you enjoin me that office. You know the high esteem and
affection I bore that great man her father, and with what noble
instructions he nurtured my youth, and taught me to deserve those
praises he was pleased to bestow upon me. You could not give me, then, a
more important, or more agreeable, commission; nor could I be employed
in an office of higher honour, than that of choosing a young man worthy
of being father of the grandchildren of Rusticus Arulenus; a choice I
should be long in determining, were I not acquainted with Minutius
Aemilianus, who seems formed for our purpose. He loves me with all that
warmth of affection which is usual between young men of equal years (as
indeed I have the advance of him but by a very few), and reveres me at
the same time, with all the deference due to age; and, in a word, he is
no less desirous to model himself by my instructions than I was by those
of yourself and your brother.
He is a native of Brixia, one of those provinces in Italy which still
retain much of the old modesty, frugal simplicity, and even rusticity,
of manner. He is the son of Minutius Macrinus, whose humble desires were
satisfied with standing at the head of the equestrian order: for though
he was nominated by Vespasian in the number of those whom that prince
dignified with the praetorian office, yet, with an inflexible greatness
of mind, he resolutely preferred an honourable repose, to the ambitious,
shall I call them, or exalted, pursuits, in which we public men are
engaged. His grandmother, on the mother's side, is Serrana Procula, of
Patavium:[12] you are no stranger to the character of its citizens; yet
Serrana is looked upon, even among these correct people, as an exemplary
instance of strict virtue. Acilius, his uncle, is a man of almost
exceptional gravity, wisdom, and integrity. In short, you will find
nothing throughout his family unworthy of yours. Minutius himself has
plenty of vivacity, as well as application, together with a most amiable
and becoming modesty. He has already, with considerable credit, passed
through the offices of quaestor, tribune, and praetor; so that you will
be spared the trouble of soliciting for him those honourable
employments. He has a fine, well-bred, countenance, with a ruddy,
healthy complexion, while his whole person is elegant and comely and his
mien graceful and senatorian: advantages, I think, by no means to be
slighted, and which I consider as the proper tribute to virgin
innocence. I think I may add that his father is very rich. When I
contemplate the character of those who require a husband of my choosing,
I know it is unnecessary to mention wealth; but when I reflect upon the
prevailing manners of the age, and even the laws of Rome, which rank a
man according to his possessions, it certainly claims some regard; and,
indeed, in establishments of this nature, where children and many other
circumstances are to be duly weighed, it is an article that well
deserves to be taken into the account. You will be inclined, perhaps, to
suspect that affection has had too great a share in the character I have
been drawing, and that I have heightened it beyond the truth: but I will
stake all my credit, you will find everything far beyond what I have
represented. I love the young fellow indeed (as he justly deserves) with
all the warmth of a most ardent affection; but for that very reason I
would not ascribe more to his merit than I know it will bear. Farewell.
XI -- To SEPTITIUS CLARUS
Ah! you are a pretty fellow! You make an engagement to come to supper
and then never appear. Justice shall be exacted;--you shall reimburse me
to the very last penny the expense I went to on your account; no small
sum, let me tell you. I had prepared, you must know, a lettuce a-piece,
three snails, two eggs, and a barley cake, with some sweet wine and
snow, (the snow most certainly I shall charge to your account, as a
rarity that will not keep.) Olives, beet-root, gourds, onions, and a
thousand other dainties equally sumptuous. You should likewise have been
entertained either with an interlude, the rehearsal of a poem, or a
piece of music, whichever you preferred; or (such was my liberality)
with all three. But the oysters, sows'-bellies, sea-urchins, and dancers
from Cadiz of a certain--I know not who, were, it seems, more to your
taste. You shall give satisfaction, how, shall at present be a secret.
Oh! you have behaved cruelly, grudging your friend,--had almost said
yourself;--and upon second thoughts I do say so;--in this way: for how
agreeably should we have spent the evening, in laughing, trifling, and
literary amusements! You may sup, I confess, at many places more
splendidly; but nowhere with more unconstrained mirth, simplicity, and
freedom: only make the experiment, and if you do not ever after excuse
yourself to your other friends, to come to me, always put me off to go
to them. Farewell.
XII -- To SUETONIUS TRANQUILLUS
You tell me in your letter that you are extremely alarmed by a dream;
apprehending that it forebodes some ill success to you in the case you
have undertaken to defend; and, therefore, desire that I would get it
adjourned for a few days, or, at least, to the next. This will be no
easy matter, but I will try:
"For dreams descend from Jove."
Meanwhile, it is very material for you to recollect whether your dreams
generally represent things as they afterwards fall out, or quite the
reverse. But if I may judge of yours by one that happened to myself,
this dream that alarms you seems to portend that you will acquit
yourself with great success. I had promised to stand counsel for Junius
Pastor; when I fancied in my sleep that my mother-in-law came to me,
and, throwing herself at my feet, earnestly entreated me not to plead. I
was at that time a very young man; the case was to be argued in the four
centumviral courts; my adversaries were some of the most important
personages in Rome, and particular favourites of Cæsar;[13] any of which
circumstances were sufficient, after such an inauspicious dream, to have
discouraged me. Notwithstanding this, I engaged in the cause, reflecting
that,
"Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, And asks no omen but his
country's cause."<a href="#linknote-14" name="linknoteref-14"
id="linknoteref-14">[14]</a>
for I looked upon the promise I had given to be as sacred to me as my
country, or, if that were possible, more so. The event happened as I
wished; and it was that very case which first procured me the favourable
attention of the public, and threw open to me the gates of Fame.
Consider then whether your dream, like this one I have related, may not
pre-signify success. But, after all, perhaps you will think it safer to
pursue this cautious maxim: "Never do a thing concerning the rectitude
of which you are in doubt;" if so, write me word. In the interval, I
will consider of some excuse, and will so plead your cause that you may
be able to plead it your self any day you like best. In this respect,
you are in a better situation than I was: the court of the centumviri,
where I was to plead, admits of no adjournment: whereas, in that where
your case is to be heard, though no easy matter to procure one, still,
however, it is possible. Farewell.
XIII -- To ROMANUS FIRMUS
As you are my towns-man, my school-fellow, and the earliest companion of
my youth; as there was the strictest friendship between my mother and
uncle and your father (a happiness which I also enjoyed as far as the
great inequality of our ages would admit); can I fail (thus biassed as I
am by so many and weighty considerations) to contribute all in my power