Letter 18On Festivals and Fasting

The letter, part by part

Nine parts, following the website’s sections. Each has a short explanation and its key line. Open “Read this part in full” for the complete text. Tap a dotted word for its meaning.

1. Part 1

   How to handle the holidays

   It is December, and Rome is deep in the Saturnalia; the partying has spread so far that the holiday hardly differs from any other day. Seneca wonders what Lucilius would advise: keep the usual routine, or dine more lavishly and swap the toga for party clothes, so as not to seem aloof? He guesses Lucilius would say: don’t copy the liberty-capped crowd in everything, but don’t be wholly unlike them either. Or perhaps this is the very moment to test yourself, by holding back while everyone else lets go.

   Once December was a month; now it is a year.

   olim mensem Decembrem fuisse, nunc annum.

   When December lasts all year

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   It is the month of December, and yet the city is at this very moment in a sweat. Licence is given to the general merrymaking. Everything resounds with mighty preparations,—as if the Saturnalia differed at all from the usual business day! So true it is that the difference is nil, that I regard as correct the remark of the man who said: “Once December was a month; now it is a year.”

   If I had you with me, I should be glad to consult you and find out what you think should be done,—whether we ought to make no change in our daily routine, or whether, in order not to be out of sympathy with the ways of the public, we should dine in gayer fashion and doff the toga. As it is now, we Romans have changed our dress for the sake of pleasure and holiday-making, though in former times that was only customary when the State was disturbed and had fallen on evil days. I am sure that, if I know you aright, playing the part of an umpire you would have wished that we should be neither like the liberty-capped throng in all ways, nor in all ways unlike them; unless, perhaps, this is just the season when we ought to lay down the law to the soul, and bid it be alone in refraining from pleasures just when the whole mob has let itself go in pleasures; for this is the surest proof which a man can get of his own constancy, if he neither seeks the things which are seductive and allure him to luxury, nor is led into them.

2. Part 2

   The harder discipline: fit in without giving in

   Staying sober while the mob is drunk takes courage. But Seneca thinks it takes more self-control to stay at the party and do what everyone does, only in your own way, so you neither stand out nor melt into the crowd. A holiday can be kept without excess.

   For one may keep holiday without extravagance.

   licet enim sine luxuria agere festum diem.

   Join the feast, not the excess

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   It shows much more courage to remain dry and sober when the mob is drunk and vomiting; but it shows greater self-control to refuse to withdraw oneself and to do what the crowd does, but in a different way,—thus neither making oneself conspicuous nor becoming one of the crowd. For one may keep holiday without extravagance.

3. Part 3

   The practice: rehearse what you fear

   Now Seneca sets Lucilius an exercise, taken from great teachers: set aside some days to live on the plainest, cheapest food in rough clothes, and ask yourself whether this is what you were afraid of. Easy times are when the mind should toughen up, the way soldiers drill and dig earthworks with no enemy in sight. Some people did this every month, so that real want would never frighten them.

   Is this the condition that I feared?

   hoc est quod timebatur?

   Train before the crisis comes

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   I am so firmly determined, however, to test the constancy of your mind that, drawing from the teachings of great men, I shall give you also a lesson: Set aside a certain number of days, during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare, with coarse and rough dress, saying to yourself the while: “Is this the condition that I feared?”

   It is precisely in times of immunity from care that the soul should toughen itself beforehand for occasions of greater stress, and it is while Fortune is kind that it should fortify itself against her violence. In days of peace the soldier performs manœuvres, throws up earthworks with no enemy in sight, and wearies himself by gratuitous toil, in order that he may be equal to unavoidable toil. If you would not have a man flinch when the crisis comes, train him before it comes. Such is the course which those men have followed who, in their imitation of poverty, have every month come almost to want, that they might never recoil from what they had so often rehearsed.

4. Part 4

   Make it real, not dress-up

   He doesn’t mean the games rich people play when bored with luxury, like Timon’s dinners or mock paupers’ huts. Make it real: a hard bed, a coarse cloak, stale bread, for three or four days or more. Then a pennyworth of food will make you jump for joy, and you’ll see that peace of mind doesn’t depend on Fortune.

   Endure all this for three or four days at a time, sometimes for more, so that it may be a test of yourself instead of a mere hobby.

   ut non lusus sit sed experimentum

   Pallet
   a real one

   Cloak
   coarse and rough

   Bread
   hard and grimy

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   You need not suppose that I mean meals like Timon’s, or “paupers’ huts,” or any other device which luxurious millionaires use to beguile the tedium of their lives. Let the pallet be a real one, and the coarse cloak; let the bread be hard and grimy. Endure all this for three or four days at a time, sometimes for more, so that it may be a test of yourself instead of a mere hobby. Then, I assure you, my dear Lucilius, you will leap for joy when filled with a pennyworth of food, and you will understand that a man’s peace of mind does not depend upon Fortune; for, even when angry she grants enough for our needs.

5. Part 5

   Only what millions do every day

   Don’t think this is heroic: thousands of slaves and poor people live like this every day. Your only credit is that you choose it, and that you could bear it for good as easily as for a trial run. Practise on the dummy, get to know poverty, and you’ll be rich with far less worry.

   We shall be rich with all the more comfort, if we once learn how far poverty is from being a burden.

   securius divites erimus si scierimus quam non sit grave pauperes esse.

   What thousands live every day

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   There is no reason, however, why you should think that you are doing anything great; for you will merely be doing what many thousands of slaves and many thousands of poor men are doing every day. But you may credit yourself with this item,—that you will not be doing it under compulsion, and that it will be as easy for you to endure it permanently as to make the experiment from time to time. Let us practise our strokes on the “dummy”; let us become intimate with poverty, so that Fortune may not catch us off our guard. We shall be rich with all the more comfort, if we once learn how far poverty is from being a burden.

6. Part 6

   Even Epicurus fasted

   Even Epicurus, the philosopher of pleasure, kept set days of meagre eating, to measure how much happiness he really lost. He boasted that he fed himself on less than a penny, while his pupil Metrodorus still needed a whole one. Plain fare like this, Seneca says, brings a pleasure that is steady and sure, and leaves you needing only what luck can’t snatch away.

   Not that shifty and fleeting pleasure which needs a fillip now and then, but a pleasure that is steadfast and sure.

   voluptas autem non illa levis et fugax et subinde reficienda, sed stabilis et certa.

   Full on less than a penny

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   Even Epicurus, the teacher of pleasure, used to observe stated intervals, during which he satisfied his hunger in niggardly fashion; he wished to see whether he thereby fell short of full and complete happiness, and, if so, by what amount he fell short, and whether this amount was worth purchasing at the price of great effort. At any rate, he makes such a statement in the well known letter written to Polyaenus in the archonship of Charinus. Indeed, he boasts that he himself lived on less than a penny, but that Metrodorus, whose progress was not yet so great, needed a whole penny.

   Do you think that there can be fulness on such fare? Yes, and there is pleasure also,—not that shifty and fleeting pleasure which needs a fillip now and then, but a pleasure that is steadfast and sure. For though water, barley-meal, and crusts of barley-bread, are not a cheerful diet, yet it is the highest kind of pleasure to be able to derive pleasure from this sort of food, and to have reduced one’s needs to that modicum which no unfairness of Fortune can snatch away.

7. Part 7

   Getting ahead of Fortune’s blows

   Prisoners, even the condemned, are fed better than this, so choosing it freely takes a great soul, and it beats Fortune to the punch. So Seneca urges Lucilius to set aside days to step back from business and get on easy terms with poverty. He backs this with two lines of Vergil: dare to look down on wealth.

   This is indeed forestalling the spear-thrusts of Fortune.

   hoc est praeoccupare tela fortunae.

   Step down first, and Fortune misses

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   Even prison fare is more generous; and those who have been set apart for capital punishment are not so meanly fed by the man who is to execute them. Therefore, what a noble soul must one have, to descend of one’s own free will to a diet which even those who have been sentenced to death have not to fear! This is indeed forestalling the spear-thrusts of Fortune.

   So begin, my dear Lucilius, to follow the custom of these men, and set apart certain days on which you shall withdraw from your business and make yourself at home with the scantiest fare. Establish business relations with poverty.

   Dare, O my friend, to scorn the sight of wealth,
   And mould thyself to kinship with thy God.

8. Part 8

   Own wealth without fearing to lose it

   Only someone who has looked down on wealth is fit to be close to God. Seneca doesn’t forbid owning riches; he wants Lucilius to own them without fear. The way there is to be sure you could live happily without them, and to treat them as always about to leave.

   Of course I do not forbid you to possess it, but I would have you reach the point at which you possess it dauntlessly.

   efficere volo ut illas intrepide possideas.

   Hold riches with an open hand

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   For he alone is in kinship with God who has scorned wealth. Of course I do not forbid you to possess it, but I would have you reach the point at which you possess it dauntlessly; this can be accomplished only by persuading yourself that you can live happily without it as well as with it, and by regarding riches always as likely to elude you.

9. Part 9

   A last word on anger

   Time to fold up the letter, and Lucilius expects his usual parting gift, so Seneca pays with a draft on Epicurus: anger without limits leads to madness. Anger flares at anyone, out of love as readily as hate, over games as over serious things. As with fire, what matters is less the size of the spark than what it lands on: a big flame can fail to catch on solid wood, while dry stuff lets a tiny spark grow into a conflagration.

   Ungoverned anger begets madness.

   immodica ira gignit insaniam.

   Same spark, different fuel

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   But now I must begin to fold up my letter. “Settle your debts first,” you cry. Here is a draft on Epicurus; he will pay down the sum: “Ungoverned anger begets madness.” You cannot help knowing the truth of these words, since you have had not only slaves, but also enemies.

   But indeed this emotion blazes out against all sorts of persons; it springs from love as much as from hate, and shows itself not less in serious matters than in jest and sport. And it makes no difference how important the provocation may be, but into what kind of soul it penetrates. Similarly with fire; it does not matter how great is the flame, but what it falls upon. For solid timbers have repelled a very great fire; conversely, dry and easily inflammable stuff nourishes the slightest spark into a conflagration. So it is with anger, my dear Lucilius; the outcome of a mighty anger is madness, and hence anger should be avoided, not merely that we may escape excess, but that we may have a healthy mind. Farewell.

The modern take

The website breaks Letter 18 into 12 lessons for today. I’ve grouped them into four themes; each lesson is summarised in plain words.

Read the website’s own translation and full breakdown

Words

Harder words and names from the letter, in the order they appear.

Saturnalia

Rome’s December festival of the god Saturn, starting on 17 December. Feasting, gifts and gambling, with the usual social rules relaxed.

toga, doff the toga

The toga was the heavy wool robe of a Roman citizen. For the Saturnalia, people took it off and wore a light dinner garment instead.

liberty-capped

Wearing the pilleus, a felt cap that marked a freed slave. At the Saturnalia the whole crowd put it on.

constancy

Steadiness of mind; the firmness a Stoic keeps under pressure.

earthworks

Banks of earth and ditches dug to fortify a camp. Roman soldiers built them even on peaceful marches.

Fortune

Fortuna, the Roman goddess of luck. For Stoics, the name for everything outside our control.

gratuitous

Unnecessary; done without any need.

those men

Gummere’s note says Seneca means the Epicureans, who practised living on very little.

Timon’s

Timon of Athens, a legendary hater of mankind who lost his fortune. ‘Timon dinners’ were mock-poor meals the rich played at.

paupers’ huts

Fake ‘poor men’s rooms’ that some rich Romans built inside their mansions, to play at poverty for a day.

pallet

A hard, narrow bed or straw mattress. Seneca’s word, grabattus, is a cheap camp bed.

pennyworth

Seneca names the dupondius, a small brass coin worth two asses. Food that costs next to nothing.

dummy

The palus, a wooden post that recruits and gladiators practised their sword strokes on.

Epicurus

Greek philosopher (341–270 BC) who taught that pleasure, meaning calm and freedom from pain, is life’s goal. Seneca often quotes him.

niggardly

Stingy; meagre.

Polyaenus

A close friend and leading pupil of Epicurus, and a mathematician.

archonship of Charinus

Athens named each year after its chief magistrate, the archon. Charinus held the post around 290 BC.

penny

The as, a small copper coin: Rome’s basic unit of small change.

Metrodorus

Epicurus’s closest friend and pupil, who died some years before him.

fillip

A little boost or stimulus; literally, a flick of the finger.

barley-meal

Coarsely ground barley. Romans saw barley as poor food, and soldiers were put on barley rations as a punishment.

modicum

A small, bare amount.

Vergil

Rome’s great poet (70–19 BC). The lines come from his Aeneid, where King Evander welcomes Aeneas to his humble home.

dauntlessly

Without fear.

draft on Epicurus

A draft is a written order to pay. Seneca ends these early letters by ‘paying’ Lucilius a good saying, often from Epicurus.

ungoverned

Out of control; beyond measure (Latin immodica).

conflagration

A huge, destructive fire.