Book 3, letter 1: To Seneca

Book 3, Letter 1

Part 1 of 2

                                  Seneca with Nero

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Dear Seneca,

This being my first letter to you, I feel that I should open with something special...a picture? If it is true, as Thucydides claims, that history is philosophy taught by example, then it might be true also that art is psychology taught by practice. To practice art is to train the eye to see, (both the inner and the outer eye) and to teach the hand to make the unseen, visible. So, Seneca, my study continues...

                                          a page from my sketchbook...

My history studies also continue, and this second year is opening me up to wider subjects. My keenness for history and philosophy has not faded. It is as I had expected; the more I know, the deeper and wider I see the ocean of knowledge is. I swim down, undeterred, unobstructed. That is where I met you, Seneca. In the darkness.

I'll admit this to you first, and don't misconstrue it for empty flattery. I used to really like Marcus Aurelius, until I started reading your Epistles. (I have a 1917 translation by Richard M Gummere.) I have felt drawn to Stoic philosophy for a few months, and I have been trying to make sense of Aurelius, but his worldview is so militant, so brutal at times. He is immensely popular at the moment, with new books about his life and philosophy being published, but you, Seneca, seem blessed with a modern humanitarian soul, and as such, your philosophy is, to me, much more easily assimilated and understood.

Seneca, or can I call you Lucius? I'd like to write to you about every single page I've read so far. I'll try to restrain myself, I have been forcing myself to only read one letter each day. Though I want to hungrily devour your wisdom, I must take my time to digest the intense beauty and truth I find in your writing. I've never been so emotionally effected by a book. Normally I read with a hungry pace, briskly striding through to the end of the book, eager to finish and grasp the whole of what the author has to say.

With your book, your Epistles, I want to read each sentence over and over. I am reluctant to turn the page. I have read seven letters so far, but I return to the first page each morning. I cannot rush your book. To do so would seem a gross insult to the special kindness and attention you give every word, every turn of phrase.

I. On Saving Time

Continue to act thus, my dear Lucilius - set yourself free for your own sake; gather and save your time, which till lately has been forced from you, or filched away, or has merely slipped from your hands. Make yourself believe the truth of my words, - that certain moments are torn from us, that some are gently removed, and that others glide beyond our reach. The most disgraceful kind of loss, however, is that due to carelessness. Furthermore, if you will pay close heed to the problem, you will find that the largest portion of our life passes while we are doing ill, a goodly share while we are doing nothing, and the whole while we are doing that which is not to the purpose. What man can you show me who places any value on his time, who reckons the worth of each day, who understands that he is dying daily? For we are mistaken when we look forward to death; the major portion of death has already passed. Whatever years lie behind us are in death's hands.

Quicquid aetatis retro est, mors tenet. 

Whatever years lie behind us are in death's hands.

I need some more time to think about that. I'll write more soon.