Moral Letters to Lucilius

​I know, Lucilius, that it is clear to you that no one can live happily, or even tolerably, without the study of wisdom, and that a happy life is brought about by perfected wisdom, while a tolerable life is brought about even by its beginning. But this, which is clear, must be strengthened and driven deeper by daily meditation; there is more work in this, to guard what you have proposed than to propose honorable things. You must persevere and add strength by constant study, until what is a good will becomes a good mind.

​Therefore, you have no longer any need of many words or confirmation with me; I understand that you have made great progress. I know whence the things you write come; they are not feigned or colored. Yet I will say what I feel: I already have hope for you, but not yet confidence. I wish you also to do the same; there is no reason for you to believe yourself quickly and easily. Shake yourself and examine and observe yourself in various ways; see this before all things, whether you have made progress in philosophy or in life itself.

​Philosophy is not a popular craft, nor is it prepared for ostentation. It is not in words, but in realities. Nor is it employed for this, that the day may be consumed with some pleasure, or that disgust may be removed from leisure. It forms and fashions the mind, disposes life, rules actions, points out what should be done and what should be omitted, sits at the helm and directs the course through the dangers of those tossing on the waves. Without this, no one can live without fear, no one with security. Innumerable things happen every hour which demand advice, which must be sought from this.

​Someone will say: “What does philosophy profit me, if there is fate? What does it profit, if God is the ruler? What does it profit, if chance governs? For both certain things cannot be changed, and nothing can be prepared against uncertain things; but either God has anticipated my counsel and decreed what I should do, or fortune permits nothing to my counsel.”

​Whichever of these is true, Lucilius, or even if all of them are true, we must practice philosophy: whether the fates bind us by an inexorable law, or God as the arbiter of the universe has disposed all things, or chance impels and tosses human affairs without order, philosophy ought to protect us. This will exhort us to obey God willingly, and fortune defiantly; this will teach us to follow God and endure chance.

​But we must not now pass into this dispute, what is within our own power if providence is in control, or if the chain of fates drags us bound, or if sudden and unexpected things rule; I return now to this point, to advise and exhort you not to allow the impulse of your mind to fall away and grow cold. Keep it and establish it, so that what is now an impulse may become a habit of mind.

​Already from the beginning, if I know you well, you will look around to see what little gift this letter has brought. Shake it, and you will find it. There is no reason for you to wonder at my mind; so far I am liberal from another’s property. But why did I say another’s? Whatever has been well said by anyone is mine. That saying of yours also was said by Epicurus: “If you live according to nature, you will never be poor; if according to opinions, you will never be rich.”

​Nature desires little, opinion immense. Let whatever many wealthy men had possessed be heaped upon you. Let fortune advance you beyond the private measure of money, cover you with gold, clothe you with purple, lead you to such a point of luxury and wealth that you hide the ground with marble, and that it is permitted to you not only to possess riches, but to trample upon them. Let statues and paintings and whatever any art has elaborated for luxury be added; you will only learn from these to desire greater things.

​Natural desires are limited; those arising from false opinion have nowhere to stop. For there is no limit to what is false. To one traveling on a road, there is some end; wandering is limitless. Therefore, withdraw yourself from vain things, and when you wish to know whether what you seek has a natural or a blind desire, consider whether it can stop anywhere. If, when you have gone far, something farther always remains, know that it is not natural. FAREWELL.