Moral Letters to Lucilius

​And there is no reason why you should wonder at this among our tenets; with Epicurus there are two goods, from which that supreme and happy life is composed, namely, that the body be without pain, and the mind without perturbation. These goods do not grow, if they are full. For whither will that which is full grow? The body lacks pain; what can be added to this painlessness? The mind is consistent with itself and is placid; what can be added to this tranquillity?

​Just as the serenity of the sky does not admit any greater clarity once it has been purified into the sheerest brightness, so the state of a man caring for his body and mind and weaving his good from both is perfect and finds the summit of his wish, if there is neither passion in his mind nor pain in his body. If any external allurements happen to supervene, they do not increase the supreme good, but, so to speak, season and delight it. For that absolute good of human nature is content with the peace of body and mind.

​I will give you even now, under Epicurus, a division of goods very similar to this of ours. For there are some goods with him which he would prefer to happen to himself, such as a bodily rest free from all trouble, and a relaxation of the mind rejoicing in the contemplation of its own goods. There are others which, although he would not wish them to happen, he nevertheless praises and approves, such as that endurance of ill health and of the gravest pains which I was speaking of a little while ago, in which Epicurus was on that last and most fortunate day of his. For he says that he is tolerating the torments of his bladder and of his ulcerated belly, which admit no further addition of pain, and that that day is nevertheless happy for him. But one cannot lead a happy life unless one is in the supreme good.

​Therefore, even with Epicurus, there are these goods which you would prefer not to experience, but because circumstance has so brought it, they are both to be embraced and praised and made equal to the highest. It cannot be said that this is not a good equal to the greatest, which imposed the conclusion of a happy life, for which Epicurus with his last voice gave thanks.

​Permit me, Lucilius, best of men, to say something rather bold: if any goods could be greater than others, I would have preferred these, which seem sad, to those soft and delicate ones; I would have called these greater. For it is greater to break through difficulties than to moderate joyful things.

​By the same reasoning, I know, it happens that someone bears prosperity well and adversity bravely. He can be equally brave who, secure, kept watch before the rampart with no enemies attacking the camp, and he who, with his knees cut, received himself upon his knees and did not let go of his weapons; ‘hail to your valor!’ is said to those returning bloody from the battle line. Therefore, I would rather praise these goods, exercised and brave and having struggled with fortune.

​Should I doubt whether I would praise more that mutilated and shriveled hand of Mucius than the intact hand of any of the bravest? He stood, a despiser of enemies and flames, and gazed at his hand dripping in the enemy’s brazier, until Porsenna, who favored his punishment, envied his glory and ordered the fire to be snatched away from him against his will.

​Why should I not number this good among the primary, and think it as much greater than those secure and unattempted by fortune, as it is rarer to have conquered an enemy with a lost hand than with an armed one? ‘What then?’ you say, ‘will you wish this good for yourself?’ Why not? For unless one can also wish this, one cannot do it.

​Or should I rather wish that I may extend my joints to be softened by my pampered minions? That a petty woman, or someone turned from a man into a petty woman, should pull my fingers? Why should I not think Mucius happier, because he handled the fire in such a way as if he had presented that hand to a masseur? He restored to completeness whatever he had erred; he finished the war unarmed and maimed, and with that mutilated hand conquered two kings. FAREWELL.