{
    "schema": "prokopton42-public-passage-v1",
    "id": "seneca.de_tranquillitate_animi",
    "canonical_url": "https://prokopton42.com/en/works/seneca/de-tranquillitate-animi/reference-1/",
    "language": "en",
    "title": "On Tranquillity of Mind",
    "author": "Seneca",
    "date": "c. 55-62 CE",
    "summary": "Serenus describes an instability making him alternate among ambition, simplicity, engagement, and retreat. Seneca’s reply seeks practical steadiness: choose fitting work, limit agitation, and retain flexibility able to face reversals.",
    "learning": "Identify sources of Serenus’ instability, distinguish tranquillity from inertia, and understand the balance among steadiness, engagement, and adaptation.",
    "long_summary": "The diagnosis concerns not one crisis but a mind approving the good without becoming established in it. Seneca examines choice of friends, relation to property, public service, rest, change of activity, and periodic need to release tension.\n\nTranquillity is neither immobility nor absence of pain. It comes from an orientation firm enough not to scatter before every possibility yet adaptable enough not to break. The dialogue combines individualized counsel with principles whose application still depends on circumstances.",
    "historical_context": "The corpus manifests do not yet establish the precise place and circumstances of composition. The images below document the author’s world or the text’s transmission. They do not claim to show the exact scene of writing.",
    "material_world_label": "Roman world, 1st century BCE to 3rd century CE",
    "material_world": {
        "technology": "Paved roads, aqueducts, concrete, glassware, mills, and hypocaust heating equip some cities, but energy comes mainly from bodies, animals, water, and wood.",
        "science": "Astronomy, geometry, natural history, and engineering compile Greek, Egyptian, and Roman knowledge. Measurement exists without a modern laboratory.",
        "medicine": "Physicians, midwives, baths, plants, and rudimentary surgery can help; reliable anaesthesia, antisepsis, and antibiotics do not exist.",
        "transport": "On foot, horseback, cart, or ship, road and sea networks connect the Empire. Travel remains slow, costly, and risky.",
        "agriculture": "Grain, vines, olives, pulses, and livestock supply cities and armies; estates, slavery, and tenancy organize part of the labour.",
        "communication": "Imperial couriers, letters on papyrus or tablets, inscriptions, and oral proclamations spread information. Everything is copied by hand.",
        "clothing": "Tunics and cloaks are common to both sexes; the stola, toga, footwear, colours, and jewellery mark citizenship, office, wealth, and origin."
    },
    "material_world_scenes": [
        {
            "asset": "/assets/timeline/landmarks/09-54-ce/world-01.webp",
            "title": "Technology, science, and care",
            "description": "Paved roads, aqueducts, concrete, glassware, mills, and hypocaust heating equip some cities, but energy comes mainly from bodies, animals, water, and wood. Astronomy, geometry, natural history, and engineering compile Greek, Egyptian, and Roman knowledge. Measurement exists without a modern laboratory. Physicians, midwives, baths, plants, and rudimentary surgery can help; reliable anaesthesia, antisepsis, and antibiotics do not exist."
        },
        {
            "asset": "/assets/timeline/landmarks/09-54-ce/world-02.webp",
            "title": "Travel and communication",
            "description": "On foot, horseback, cart, or ship, road and sea networks connect the Empire. Travel remains slow, costly, and risky. Imperial couriers, letters on papyrus or tablets, inscriptions, and oral proclamations spread information. Everything is copied by hand."
        },
        {
            "asset": "/assets/timeline/landmarks/09-54-ce/world-03.webp",
            "title": "Farming and food",
            "description": "Grain, vines, olives, pulses, and livestock supply cities and armies; estates, slavery, and tenancy organize part of the labour."
        },
        {
            "asset": "/assets/timeline/landmarks/09-54-ce/world-04.webp",
            "title": "Clothing, women and men",
            "description": "Tunics and cloaks are common to both sexes; the stola, toga, footwear, colours, and jewellery mark citizenship, office, wealth, and origin."
        }
    ],
    "intellectual_tradition": {
        "id": "stoicism",
        "label": "Stoicism"
    },
    "period": {
        "id": "ancient",
        "label": "Antiquity"
    },
    "languages": [
        "lat",
        "en",
        "fr"
    ],
    "manifestations": [
        {
            "annotation_file": "data/corpus/normalized/seneca/de-tranquillitate-animi/annotations/lat-perseus-editorial-notes.ndjson",
            "annotation_records": 38,
            "file": "data/corpus/normalized/seneca/de-tranquillitate-animi/representations/lat-perseus-lat2.ndjson",
            "language": "lat",
            "records": 17,
            "role": "original",
            "source_id": "perseus.seneca.de_tranquillitate_animi.perseus_lat2"
        },
        {
            "file": "data/corpus/normalized/seneca/de-tranquillitate-animi/representations/en-stewart.ndjson",
            "language": "en",
            "records": 17,
            "source_id": "project-gutenberg.seneca.aubrey-stewart-minor-dialogues-1889",
            "translator": "Aubrey Stewart"
        },
        {
            "file": "data/corpus/normalized/seneca/de-tranquillitate-animi/representations/fr-baillard.ndjson",
            "language": "fr",
            "records": 17,
            "source_id": "baillard-1914-wikisource-fr",
            "translator": "Joseph Baillard"
        }
    ],
    "concepts": [
        {
            "id": "anger",
            "label": "Anger"
        },
        {
            "id": "care_of_soul",
            "label": "Care of the soul"
        },
        {
            "id": "courage",
            "label": "Courage"
        },
        {
            "id": "death",
            "label": "Death"
        },
        {
            "id": "desire",
            "label": "Desire"
        },
        {
            "id": "dukkha",
            "label": "Dukkha"
        },
        {
            "id": "duty",
            "label": "Duty"
        },
        {
            "id": "education",
            "label": "Education"
        },
        {
            "id": "ether_field",
            "label": "Ether and field"
        },
        {
            "id": "faith",
            "label": "Faith"
        },
        {
            "id": "family",
            "label": "Family"
        },
        {
            "id": "fear",
            "label": "Fear"
        },
        {
            "id": "fortune",
            "label": "Fortune"
        },
        {
            "id": "freedom",
            "label": "Freedom"
        },
        {
            "id": "friendship",
            "label": "Friendship"
        },
        {
            "id": "humility",
            "label": "Humility"
        },
        {
            "id": "impressions_and_assent",
            "label": "Impressions and assent"
        },
        {
            "id": "judgment",
            "label": "Judgment"
        },
        {
            "id": "justice",
            "label": "Justice"
        },
        {
            "id": "justice_and_care",
            "label": "Justice and care for the vulnerable"
        },
        {
            "id": "law",
            "label": "Law"
        },
        {
            "id": "li_ritual_propriety",
            "label": "Li, ritual propriety"
        },
        {
            "id": "liberation",
            "label": "Liberation"
        },
        {
            "id": "love",
            "label": "Love"
        },
        {
            "id": "messiah",
            "label": "Messiah"
        },
        {
            "id": "mindfulness",
            "label": "Mindfulness"
        },
        {
            "id": "mode",
            "label": "Mode"
        },
        {
            "id": "nature",
            "label": "Nature"
        },
        {
            "id": "parable_and_reversal",
            "label": "Parable and reversal"
        },
        {
            "id": "peace",
            "label": "Peace"
        },
        {
            "id": "pleasure",
            "label": "Pleasure"
        },
        {
            "id": "poverty_wealth",
            "label": "Poverty and wealth"
        },
        {
            "id": "prayer",
            "label": "Prayer"
        },
        {
            "id": "reason",
            "label": "Reason"
        },
        {
            "id": "rhetoric",
            "label": "Rhetoric"
        },
        {
            "id": "roles",
            "label": "Roles and relationships"
        },
        {
            "id": "self_governance",
            "label": "Self-governance"
        },
        {
            "id": "service",
            "label": "Service"
        },
        {
            "id": "sin",
            "label": "Sin"
        },
        {
            "id": "slavery",
            "label": "Slavery"
        },
        {
            "id": "spirit",
            "label": "Spirit"
        },
        {
            "id": "suffering",
            "label": "Suffering"
        },
        {
            "id": "time",
            "label": "Time"
        },
        {
            "id": "tranquillity",
            "label": "Tranquillity"
        },
        {
            "id": "truth",
            "label": "Truth"
        },
        {
            "id": "virtue",
            "label": "Virtue"
        },
        {
            "id": "war_and_peace",
            "label": "War and peace"
        },
        {
            "id": "wisdom",
            "label": "Wisdom"
        }
    ],
    "source_work_ids": [
        "seneca.de_tranquillitate_animi"
    ],
    "passages": 17,
    "word_count": 13372,
    "word_counts_by_language": {
        "en": 13372,
        "fr": 11434,
        "lat": 7555
    },
    "editorial_status": "gpt_5_6_semantic_draft_v1",
    "structure": {
        "citation_scheme": "seneca_dialogue_chapter_v1",
        "kind": "native",
        "levels": [
            {
                "key": "chapter",
                "label_fr": "Chapitre",
                "label_en": "Chapter"
            }
        ],
        "leaf_fr": "Chapitre",
        "leaf_en": "Chapter"
    },
    "canonical_passage_id": "passage:seneca.de_tranquillitate_animi:1",
    "canonical_ref": "1",
    "canonical_parent_ref": null,
    "canonical_parent_id": null,
    "representations": [
        {
            "language": "lat",
            "text": "SERENUS : Inquirenti mihi in me quaedam vitia apparebant. Seneca, retecta, in aperto posita, quae manu prenderem, quaedam obscuriora et in recessu, quaedam non continua sed ex intervallis redeuntis, quae vel molestissima dixerim, ut hostis vagos et ex occasionibus adsilientis, per quos neutrum licet, nec tamquam in bello paratum esse nec tam- quam in pace securum. Illum tamen habitum in me maxime deprendo (quare enim non verum ut medico fatear ?) nec bona fide liberatum me iis, quae timebam et oderam, nec rursus obnoxium ; in statu ut non pessimo, ita maxime querulo et moroso positus sum : nec aegroto nec valeo. Non est, quod dicas omnium virtutium tenera esse principia, tempore illis duramentum et robur accedere. Non ignoro etiam quae in speciem laborant, dignitatem dico et eloquentiae famam et quicquid ad alienum suffragium venit, mora convalescere—et quae veras vires parant et quae ad placendum fuco quodam subornant, expectant annos, donec paulatim colorem diuturnitas ducat—, sed ego vereor, ne consuetudo, quae rebus adfert constantiam, hoc vitium mihi altius figat. Tam malorum quam bonorum longa conversatio amorem induit. Haec animi inter utrumque dubii nec ad recta fortiter nec ad prava vergentis infirmitas qualis sit, non tam semel tibi possum quam per partes ostendere ; dicam quae accidant mihi : tu morbo nomen invenies. Tenet me summus amor parsimoniae, fateor; placet non in ambitionem cubile compositum, non ex arcula prolata vestis, non ponderibus ac mille tormentis splendere cogentibus expressa, sed domestica et vilis, nec servata nec sumenda sollicite; placet cibus, quem nec parent familiae nec spectent, non ante multos imperatus dies nec multorum manibus ministratus, sed parabilis facilisque, nihil habens arcessiti pretiosive, ubilibet non defuturus, nec patrimonio nec corpori gravis, non rediturus qua intraverit; placet minister incultus et rudis vernula, argentum grave rustici patris sine ullo nomine artificis, et mensa non varietate macu- larum conspicua nec per multas dominorum elegantium successiones civitati nota, sed in usum posita, quae nullius convivae oculos nec voluptate moretur nec accendat invidia. Cum bene ista placuerunt, praestringit animum apparatus alicuius paedagogii, diligentius quam in tralatu vestita et auro culta mancipia et agmen servorum nitentium ; iam domus etiam qua calcatur pretiosa et divitiis per omnes angulos dissipatis tecta ipsa fulgentia et adsectator comesque patrimoniorum pereuntium populus. Quid perlucentis ad imum aquas et circumfluentes ipsa convivia, quid epulas loquar scaena sua dignas ? Circumfudit me ex longo frugalitatis situ venientem multo splendore luxuria et undique circumsonuit. Paulum titubat acies, facilius adversus illam animum quam oculos attollo. Recedo itaque non peior, sed tristior, nec inter illa frivola mea tam altus incedo tacitusque morsus subit et dubitatio, numquid illa meliora sint. Nihil horum me mutat, nihil tamen non concutit. Placet imperia praeceptorum sequi et in mediam ire rem publicam; placet honores fascisque non scilicet purpura aut virgis abductum capessere, sed ut amicis propinquisque et omnibus civibus, omnibus deinde mortalibus paratior utiliorque sim. Promptus, compositus sequor Zenona, Cleanthen, Chrysippum, quorum tamen nemo ad rem publicam accessit, et nemo non misit. Ubi aliquid animum insolitum arietari percussit, ubi aliquid occurrit aut indignum, ut in omni vita humana multa sunt, aut parum ex facili fluens, aut multum temporis res non magno aestimandae poposcerunt, ad otium convertor et, quemadmodum pecoribus fatigatis quoque, velocior domum gradus est. Placet intra parietes suos vitam coercere : \" Nemo ullum auferat diem nihil dignum tanto impendio redditurus ; sibi ipse animus haereat, se colat, nihil alieni agat, nihil quod ad iudicem spectet ; ametur expers publicae privataeque curae tranquillitas.\" Sed ubi lectio fortior erexit animum et aculeos subdiderunt exempla nobilia, prosilire libet in forum, commodare alteri vocem, alteri operam, etiam si nihil profuturam, tamen conaturam prodesse, alicuius coercere in foro superbiam male secundis rebus elati. In studiis puto me hercules melius esse res ipsas intueri et harum causa loqui, ceterum verba rebus permittere, ut qua duxerint, hae inelaborata sequatur oratio : \" Quid opus est saeculis duratura componere? Vis tu non id agere, ne te posteri taceant ? Morti natus es, minus molestiarum habet funus tacitum ! Itaque occupandi temporis causa, in usum tuum, non in praeconium aliquid simplici stilo scribe ; minore labore opus est studentibus in diem.\" Rursus ubi se animus cogitationum magnitudine levavit, ambitiosus in verba est altiusque ut spirare ita eloqui gestit et ad dignitatem rerum exit oratio; oblitus tum legis pressiorisque iudicii sublimius feror et ore iam non meo. Ne singula diutius persequar, in omnibus rebus haec me sequitur bonae mentis infirmitas. Quin ne paulatim defluam vereor, aut quod est sollicitius, ne semper casuro similis pendeam et plus fortasse sit quam quod ipse pervideo ; familiariter enim domestica aspicimus et semper iudicio favor officit. Puto multos potuisse ad sapientiam pervenire, nisi putassent se pervenisse, nisi quaedam in se dissimulassent, quaedam opertis oculis transiluissent. Non est enim, quod magis aliena iudices adulatione nos perire quam nostra. Quis sibi verum dicere ausus est ? Quis non inter laudantium blandientiumque positus greges plurimum tamen sibi ipse adsentatus est ? Rogo itaque, si quod habes remedium, quo hanc fluctuationem meam sistas, dignum me putes qui tibi tranquillitatem debeam. Non esse periculosos hos motus animi nec quicquam tumultuosi adferentis scio; ut vera tibi similitudine id, de quo queror, exprimam, non tempestate vexor sed nausea. Detrahe ergo quicquid hoc est mali et succurre in conspectu terrarum laboranti.",
            "edition": "Perseus canonical Latin TEI",
            "source_id": "perseus.seneca.de_tranquillitate_animi.perseus_lat2",
            "translation_type": "original"
        },
        {
            "language": "en",
            "text": "[_Serenus._] When I examine myself, Seneca, some vices appear on the surface, and so that I can lay my hands upon them, while others are less distinct and harder to reach, and some are not always present, but recur at intervals: and these I should call the most troublesome, being like a roving enemy that assails one when he sees his opportunity, and who will neither let one stand on one’s guard as in war, nor yet take one’s rest without fear as in peace. The position in which I find myself more especially (for why should I not tell you the truth as I would to a physician), is that of neither being thoroughly set free from the vices which I fear and hate, nor yet quite in bondage to them: my state of mind, though not the worst possible, is a particularly discontented and sulky one: I am neither ill nor well, It is of no use for you to tell me that all virtues are weakly at the outset, and that they acquire strength and solidity by time, for I am well aware that even those which do but help our outward show, such as grandeur, a reputation for eloquence, and everything that appeals to others, gain power by time. Both those which afford us real strength and those which do but trick us out in a more attractive form, require long years before they gradually are adapted to us by time. But I fear that custom, which confirms most things, implants this vice more and more deeply in me. Long acquaintance with both good and bad people leads one to esteem them all alike. What this state of weakness really is, when the mind halts between two opinions without any strong inclination towards either good or evil, I shall be better able to show you piecemeal than all at once. I will tell you what befalls me, you must find out the name of the disease. I have to confess the greatest possible love of thrift: I do not care for a bed with gorgeous hangings, nor for clothes brought out of a chest, or pressed under weights and made glossy by frequent manglings, but for common and cheap ones, that require no care either to keep them or to put them on. For food I do not want what needs whole troops of servants to prepare it and admire it, nor what is ordered many days before and served up by many hands, but something handy and easily come at, with nothing far-fetched or costly about it, to be had in every part of the world, burdensome neither to one’s fortune nor one’s body, not likely to go out of the body by the same path by which it came in. I like a rough and unpolished homebred servant, I like my servant born in my house: I like my country-bred father’s heavy silver plate stamped with no maker’s name: I do not want a table that is beauteous with dappled spots, or known to all the town by the number of fashionable people to whom it has successively belonged, but one which stands merely for use, and which causes no guest’s eye to dwell upon it with pleasure or to kindle at it with envy. While I am well satisfied with this, I am reminded of the clothes of a certain schoolboy, dressed with no ordinary care and splendour, of slaves bedecked with gold and a whole regiment of glittering attendants. I think of houses too, where one treads on precious stones, and where valuables lie about in every corner, where the very roof is brilliantly painted, and a whole nation attends and accompanies an inheritance on the road to ruin. What shall I say of waters, transparent to the very bottom, which flow round the guests, and banquets worthy of the theatre in which they take place? Coming as I do from a long course of dull thrift, I find myself surrounded by the most brilliant luxury, which echoes around me on every side: my sight becomes a little dazzled by it: I can lift up my heart against it more easily than my eyes. When I return from seeing it I am a sadder, though not a worse man, I cannot walk amid my own paltry possessions with so lofty a step as before, and silently there steals over me a feeling of vexation, and a doubt whether that way of life may not be better than mine. None of these things alter my principles, yet all of them disturb me. At one time I would obey the maxims of our school and plunge into public life, I would obtain office and become consul, not because the purple robe and lictor’s axes attract me, but in order that I may be able to be of use to my friends, my relatives, to all my countrymen, and indeed to all mankind. Ready and determined, I follow the advice of Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus, all of whom bid one take part in public affairs, though none of them ever did so himself: and then, as soon as something disturbs my mind, which is not used to receiving shocks, as soon as something occurs which is either disgraceful, such as often occurs in all men’s lives, or which does not proceed quite easily, or when subjects of very little importance require me to devote a great deal of time to them, I go back to my life of leisure, and, just as even tired cattle go faster when they are going home, I wish to retire and pass my life within the walls of my house. “No one,” I say, “that will give me no compensation worth such a loss shall ever rob me of a day. Let my mind be contained within itself and improve itself: let it take no part with other men’s affairs, and do nothing which depends on the approval of others: let me enjoy a tranquillity undisturbed by either public or private troubles.” But whenever my spirit is roused by reading some brave words, or some noble example spurs me into action, I want to rush into the law courts, to place my voice at one man’s disposal, my services at another’s, and to try to help him even though I may not succeed, or to quell the pride of some lawyer who is puffed up by ill-deserved success: but I think, by Hercules, that in philosophical speculation it is better to view things as they are, and to speak of them on their own account, and as for words, to trust to things for them, and to let one’s speech simply follow whither they lead. “Why do you want to construct a fabric that will endure for ages? Do you not wish to do this in order that posterity may talk of you: yet you were born to die, and a silent death is the least wretched. Write something therefore in a simple style, merely to pass the time, for your own use, and not for publication. Less labour is needed when one does not look beyond the present.” Then again, when the mind is elevated by the greatness of its thoughts, it becomes ostentatious in its use of words, the loftier its aspirations, the more loftily it desires to express them, and its speech rises to the dignity of its subject. At such times I forget my mild and moderate determination and soar higher than is my wont, using a language that is not my own. Not to multiply examples, I am in all things attended by this weakness of a well-meaning mind, to whose level I fear that I shall be gradually brought down, or, what is even more worrying, that I may always hang as though about to fall, and that there may be more the matter with me than I myself perceive: for we take a friendly view of our own private affairs, and partiality always obscures our judgment. I fancy that many men would have arrived at wisdom had they not believed themselves to have arrived there already, had they not purposely deceived themselves as to some parts of their character, and passed by others with their eyes shut: for you have no grounds for supposing that other people’s flattery is more ruinous to us than our own. Who dares to tell himself the truth? Who is there, by however large a troop of caressing courtiers he may be surrounded, who in spite of them is not his own greatest flatterer? I beg you, therefore, if you have any remedy by which you could stop this vacillation of mine, to deem me worthy to owe my peace of mind to you. I am well aware that these oscillations of mind are not perilous and that they threaten me with no serious disorder: to express what I complain of by an exact simile, I am not suffering from a storm, but from sea-sickness. Take from me, then, this evil, whatever it may be, and help one who is in distress within sight of land.",
            "translator": "Aubrey Stewart",
            "edition": "Minor Dialogues Together with the Dialogue on Clemency (1889)",
            "source_id": "project-gutenberg.seneca.aubrey-stewart-minor-dialogues-1889",
            "translation_type": "historical_human_translation"
        },
        {
            "language": "fr",
            "text": "En m’examinant bien moi-même, cher Sénèque, j’ai reconnu certains défauts sensibles, patents, que je puis toucher du doigt ; d’autres plus obscurs et cachés plus avant ; d’autres enfin non habituels, mais qui, reparaissant par intervalles, sont à mon gré les plus incommodes, comme ces ennemis vagabonds qui nous assaillent à leurs moments et ne permettent de garder ni l’attitude vigilante de la guerre ni la sécurité de la paix. Voici toutefois ma situation actuelle telle que je la saisis (car pourquoi taire à son médecin la vérité ?). Sans être franchement délivré d’un joug redouté et maudit, je ne m’y vois plus courbé si fortement. Mon état, quoique non désespéré, n’en est pas moins déplorable et cruel : je ne suis ni malade ni guéri. Ne me dis pas que les commencements de toute vertu sont faibles, que le temps lui apporte la consistance et la fermeté. Je n’ignore point que les avantages même que l’on recherche pour l’éclat, les dignités par exemple, le renom d’orateur, et tout ce qui dépend du suffrage d’autrui, grandissent par la durée ; même les travaux qui donnent la vraie force, et jusqu’à ces mérites, qui pour plaire ont besoin de fard, attendent que l’âge et la succession des années les aient consacrés de leur empreinte ; mais j’appréhende que l’habitude, qui consolide tout, ne donne en moi au défaut dont je parle des racines plus profondes. Un long commerce avec le mal comme avec le bien nous fait épouser l’un ou l’autre. Cette fluctuation d’une âme hésitante qui ne se porte résolument ni à la vertu ni au vice, cette infirmité-là est moins facile à peindre d’un seul trait que par détails. Je décrirai les tu trouveras un nom à la maladie. J’ai la passion de l’économie, je le confesse. Je n’aime ni un fastueux lit de parade, ni ces vêtements qu’on tire d’un précieux coffret, ou que force poids et machines ont tenu sous presse pour leur donner du lustre ; ma robe est vulgaire et de tous les jours : je la puis garder et endosser sans tant de précautions. Je n’aime point ces festins où l’on a pour ordonnateurs et pour témoins des bandes d’esclaves, qu’il faut plusieurs jours pour apprêter et une multitude de bras pour servir ; je veux des mets simples et communs, ni venus de bien loin ni achetés bien cher, qu’on trouve en tous pays, qui ne pèsent ni à la bourse, ni à l’estomac, qui ne se vomissent pas dès qu’on les a pris. J’aime un échanson sans beau costume et naïf enfant du foyer ; et la lourde argenterie de mon provincial de père, sans ciselure et sans nom d’artiste ; et une table que ne distinguent point les bigarrures de ses veines, qu’on ne cite point par la ville pour avoir appartenu successivement à plusieurs maîtres de bon goût : la mienne est faite pour mon usage et non pour arrêter l’œil charmé des convives ou allumer leur convoitise. Tout livré que je suis à ces goûts modestes, je me laisse éblouir à la vue d’une brillante élite de jeunes esclaves, de serviteurs mieux vêtus que ceux de nos pompes triomphales, et chamarrés d’or. Ce superbe cortége de valets, cet édifice où le sol même que l’on foule est tout pavé de matières précieuses, où les plus riches métaux, prodigués dans les moindres recoins, brillent jusque sur les plafonds et ce peuple de courtisans inséparables des grandes fortunes en train de périr, que te dirai-je ? ces eaux transparentes jusqu’au fond de leur canal et qui circulent autour même des tables, et ces banquets où tout répond à la splendeur des lieux, lorsque ces mille magnificences du luxe m’investissent de leur pompe étourdissante, moi qui sors tout rouillé de ma longue frugalité, mes yeux se troublent quelque peu et sont moins à l’épreuve que mon âme. Je m’éloigne alors, sinon moins sage, du moins plus triste, et devant mon chétif mobilier je ne porte plus la tête si haute ; une morsure secrète vient m’atteindre, je me prends à douter si cette vie ne vaudrait pas mieux que la mienne : de tout cela rien qui me change, mais aussi rien qui ne m’ébranle. J’aspire à suivre les énergiques leçons de nos maîtres et à me jeter dans les affaires publiques ; j’aspire aux honneurs et aux faisceaux, non que la pourpre ou des verges dorées me séduisent, mais pour mes amis et mes proches, pour mes concitoyens, enfin pour tous les hommes que je dois mieux servir en vivant plus près d’eux. Je me rapproche ainsi docilement de Zénon, de Cléanthe, de Chrysippe, dont aucun pourtant ne prit part au gouvernement, mais qui tous me conseillent d’y entrer. Puis au premier choc qu’essuie mon âme novice à de telles secousses, si je me heurte à l’une de ces indignités trop fréquentes dans la vie humaine, ou à quelque obstacle qui empêche mon action, s’il me faut donner un temps considérable à des futilités, je reprends goût à mon loisir, et pareil au coursier qui, malgré la fatigue, double le pas à l’approche du logis, je brûle de resserrer mon existence dans ses lares protecteurs. Pas un jour ne me sera enlevé par personne ; que me donnerait-on qui m’indemnisât d’une telle perte ? Mon âme ne se dévouera qu’à elle-même, ne courtisera qu’elle seule, ne fera rien qui ne soit pour elle, rien en vue de l’opinion : chérissons une vie tranquille, étrangère aux soucis politiques et privés. Mais qu’une lecture mâle m’élève le cœur et que d’illustres exemples viennent à m’aiguillonner, me voilà prêt à voler au forum, à prêter ma voix à tel accusé, à tel autre mon appui, peut-être inefficace, mais dévoué, et à humilier devant tous le superbe, gonflé de ses iniques succès…. Pour composer, je crois qu’en vérité le mieux est d’envisager le sujet en lui-même et d’y conformer son discours ; que du reste les mots se subordonnent aux choses, et que n’importe où celles-ci nous mènent , l’expression suive sans trop se tourmenter. Qu’est-il besoin de composer pour la durée des siècles ? Tu veux faire en sorte que la postérité ne taise pas ton nom ? N’es-tu pas né pour mourir ? N’est-il pas plus commode d’entrer dans la tombe en silence ? Ainsi, pour occuper ton temps, pour ton utilité propre, non pour te faire préconiser, rédige quelques pages d’un style simple : il en coûte moins d’efforts à n’étudier que pour sa provision d’un jour. En revanche, si quelques grandes pensées exaltent mon âme, elle se répand en termes pompeux, elle cherche des inspirations plus hautes et des expressions qui y répondent, et mon discours s’élève à la dignité du sujet ; oubliant alors les lois d’un goût trop circonscrit, je plane au-dessus de la terre et parle un langage qui n’est plus le mien. Enfin, et pour couper court aux détails, je porte en toutes choses cette même faiblesse de bonne intention : j’ai peur d’y céder à la longue, ou, ce qui est plus inquiétant, de rester toujours comme en suspens sur un abîme, plus profond peut-être que je ne crois le voir. Car on envisage avec complaisance ses défauts personnels, et l’amour-propre altère nos jugements. Beaucoup, je crois, seraient arrivés à la sagesse, s’ils n’eussent imaginé l’avoir atteinte, s’ils ne se fussent dissimulé en partie leurs imperfections ou n’eussent passé sur celles qui frappaient le plus leurs yeux. Car ne crois pas que les flatteries d’autrui nous soient plus mortelles que les nôtres. Qui ose se dire la vérité ? Qui, au milieu d’un troupeau de panégyristes et d’adulateurs, n’a pas enchéri à part soi sur tous leurs éloges ? Je t’en prie donc, si tu as quelque moyen de fixer cette fluctuation de sentiments, juge-moi digne de l’apprendre : que je te doive ma tranquillité. Ces mouvements de mon âme ne sont pas très-dangereux, n’amènent aucune révolte, je le sais, et pour décrire par une similitude exacte le sujet de mes plaintes, ce n’est point la tempête, c’est le mal de mer qui me tourmente. Sauve-moi donc de ce malaise, quel qu’il soit ; secours un homme qui, en vue de la terre, s’épuise pour y aborder. RÉPONSE DE SÉNÈQUE.",
            "translator": "Joseph Baillard",
            "edition": "Œuvres complètes de Sénèque le Philosophe (1914)",
            "source_id": "baillard-1914-wikisource-fr",
            "translation_type": "historical_human_translation"
        }
    ],
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}