the sea and into the Acherusian Lake, a stream capable of supporting a stock of fish even if constantly exploited; it is left alone, though, when the sea is open: only when bad weather gives the fishermen a holiday do they lay hands on this ready supply. But the most advantageous feature of the house is that it has Baiae next door; it enjoys all the amenities of that resort andis free from its disadvantages. I can speak for these attractions from personal knowledge, and I am quite prepared to believe, too, that it is an all-the-year-round house, since it lies in the path of the western breeze, catching it to such an extent as to exclude Baiae from the benefit of it. Vatia seems to have been no fool in choosing this place as the one in which he would spend his retirement, sluggish and senile as that retirement had become.
The place one’s in, though, doesn’t make any contribution to peace of mind: it’s the spirit that makes everything agreeable to oneself. I’ve seen for myself people sunk in gloom in cheerful and delightful country houses, and people in completely secluded surroundings who looked as if they were run off their feet. So there’s no reason why you should feel that you’re not as much at rest in your mind as you might be just because you’re not here in Campania. Why aren’t you, for that matter? Transmit your thoughts all the way here. There’s nothing to stop you enjoying the company of absent friends, as often as you like, too, and for as long as you like. This pleasure in their company – and there’s no greater pleasure – is one we enjoy the more when we’re absent from one another. For having our friends present makes us spoilt; as a result of our talking and walking and sitting together every now and then, on being separated we haven’t a thought for those we’ve just been seeing. One good reason, too, why we should endure the absence patiently is the fact that every one of us is absent to a great extent from his friends even when they are around. Count up in this connexion first the nights spent away from one another, then the different engagements that keep each one busy, then the time passed in the privacy of one’s study and in trips into the country, and you’ll see that periods abroad don’t deprive us of so very much. Possession of a friend should be with the spirit: the spirit’s never absent: it sees daily whoever itlikes. So share with me my studies, my meals, my walks. Life would be restricted indeed if there were any barrier to our imaginations. I see you, my dear Lucilius, I hear you at this very moment. I feel so very much with you that I wonder whether I shouldn’t start writing you notes rather than letters!
LETTER LVI
I CANNOT for the life of me see that quiet is as necessary to a person who has shut himself away to do some studying as it is usually thought to be. Here am I with a babel of noise going on all about me. I have lodgings right over a public bathhouse. Now imagine to yourself every kind of sound that can make one weary of one’s years. When the strenuous types are doing their exercises, swinging weight-laden hands about, I hear the grunting as they toil away – or go through the motions of toiling away – at them, and the hissings and strident gasps every time they expel their pent up breath. When my attention turns to a less active fellow who is contenting himself with an ordinary inexpensive massage, I hear the smack of a hand pummelling his shoulders, the sound varying according as it comes down flat or cupped. But if on top of this some ball player comes along and starts shouting out the score, that’s the end! Then add someone starting up a brawl, and someone else caught thieving, and the man who likes the sound of his voice in the bath, and the people who leap into the pool with a tremendous splash. Apart from those whose voices are, if nothing else, natural, think of the hair remover, continually giving vent to his shrill and penetrating cry
The place one’s in, though, doesn’t make any contribution to peace of mind: it’s the spirit that makes everything agreeable to oneself. I’ve seen for myself people sunk in gloom in cheerful and delightful country houses, and people in completely secluded surroundings who looked as if they were run off their feet. So there’s no reason why you should feel that you’re not as much at rest in your mind as you might be just because you’re not here in Campania. Why aren’t you, for that matter? Transmit your thoughts all the way here. There’s nothing to stop you enjoying the company of absent friends, as often as you like, too, and for as long as you like. This pleasure in their company – and there’s no greater pleasure – is one we enjoy the more when we’re absent from one another. For having our friends present makes us spoilt; as a result of our talking and walking and sitting together every now and then, on being separated we haven’t a thought for those we’ve just been seeing. One good reason, too, why we should endure the absence patiently is the fact that every one of us is absent to a great extent from his friends even when they are around. Count up in this connexion first the nights spent away from one another, then the different engagements that keep each one busy, then the time passed in the privacy of one’s study and in trips into the country, and you’ll see that periods abroad don’t deprive us of so very much. Possession of a friend should be with the spirit: the spirit’s never absent: it sees daily whoever itlikes. So share with me my studies, my meals, my walks. Life would be restricted indeed if there were any barrier to our imaginations. I see you, my dear Lucilius, I hear you at this very moment. I feel so very much with you that I wonder whether I shouldn’t start writing you notes rather than letters!
LETTER LVI
I CANNOT for the life of me see that quiet is as necessary to a person who has shut himself away to do some studying as it is usually thought to be. Here am I with a babel of noise going on all about me. I have lodgings right over a public bathhouse. Now imagine to yourself every kind of sound that can make one weary of one’s years. When the strenuous types are doing their exercises, swinging weight-laden hands about, I hear the grunting as they toil away – or go through the motions of toiling away – at them, and the hissings and strident gasps every time they expel their pent up breath. When my attention turns to a less active fellow who is contenting himself with an ordinary inexpensive massage, I hear the smack of a hand pummelling his shoulders, the sound varying according as it comes down flat or cupped. But if on top of this some ball player comes along and starts shouting out the score, that’s the end! Then add someone starting up a brawl, and someone else caught thieving, and the man who likes the sound of his voice in the bath, and the people who leap into the pool with a tremendous splash. Apart from those whose voices are, if nothing else, natural, think of the hair remover, continually giving vent to his shrill and penetrating cry
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