NewPhilosopher
Your sorrow is most to be feared
when you have retired to your own
home: for as long as your divinity is
before your eyes, it can find no means
of access to you, but Caesar will possess
your entire being; when you have left
his presence, grief, as though it then
had an opportunity of attack, will lie
in ambush for you in your loneliness,
and creep by degrees over your mind
as it rests from its labours. You ought
not, therefore, to allow any moment to
be unoccupied by literary pursuits: at
such times let literature repay to you
the debt which your long and faithful
love has laid upon it, let it claim you for
its high priest and worshipper: at such
By Seneca
On grief
On grief
times let Homer and Virgil be much
in your company, those poets to whom
the human race owes as much as eve-
ryone owes to you, and they especially,
because you have made them known
to a wider circle than that for which
they wrote. All time which you entrust
to their keeping will be safe. At such
times, as far as you are able, compile
an account of your Caesar’s acts, that
they may be read by all future ages in
a panegyric written by one of his own
household: for he himself will afford
you both the noblest subject and the
noblest example for putting together
and composing a history. I dare not
go so far as to advise you to write in
your usual elegant style a version of
Aesop’s fables, a work which no Ro-
man intellect has hitherto attempted.
It is hard, no doubt, for a mind which
has received so rude a shock to betake
itself so quickly to these livelier pur-
suits: but if it is able to pass from more
serious studies to these lighter ones,
you must regard it as a proof that it
has recovered its strength, and is itself
again. In the former case, although it
may suffer and hang back, still it will
be led on by the serious nature of the
subject under consideration to take an
interest in it: but, unless it has thor-
oughly recovered, it will not endure to
treat of subjects which must be writ-
ten of in a cheerful spirit. You ought,
therefore, first to exercise your mind
upon grave studies, and then to en-
liven it with gayer ones.
It will also be a great solace to you
if you often ask yourself: “Am I griev-
ing on my own account or on that
of him who is gone? If on my own, I
have no right to boast of my affection-
ate sensibility; grief is only excusable
as long as it is honourable; but when
it is only caused by personal interests,
it no longer springs from tenderness:
nothing can be less becoming to a
good man than to make a calcula-
tion about his grief for his brother. If
I grieve on his account, I must nec-
essarily take one of the two follow-