Epistle XXII. — A Book of Exhortation to his Grandson

The Muses also have their own sports: hours of ease find place among the Camenae, my honey-sweet grandson; nor does the sour schoolmaster's domineering voice always harass boys, but spells of rest and study keep each their appointed times. As for an attentive boy to have read his lessons willingly is enough, so to rest is lawful. "School" has been called by that Greek name, that the laborious Muses may be allowed due share of leisure. Wherefore the more, assured that play follows work in turn, learn willingly: to beguile the weariness of long toil we grant spells of leisure. Boyish zeal flags unless serious work is interspersed with merriment, and workaday with holiday. Learn readily, and loathe not, my grandson, the control of your grim teacher. A master's looks need never cause a shudder. Though he be grim with age and, ungentle of voice, threaten harsh outbursts with frowning brows, never will he seem savage to one who has tutored his face to habitual calm. A child will love its nurse's wrinkles, who shrinks from its mother; grandchildren when they come at last, a new anxiety, prefer doddering grandsires and granddams to their parents. So Thessalian Chiron did not affright Achilles, Peleus' son, though he was quite half a horse, nor pine-bearing Atlas scare Amphitryo's youthful son, but both coaxingly used to soothe their young pupils with gentle words. You also be not afraid, though the school resound with many a stroke and the old master wear a lowering face: "fear proves a spirit degenerate." But to yourself be true, mocking at fear, and let no outcry, nor sound of stripes, nor dread, make you quake as the morning hours come on. That he brandishes the cane for sceptre, that he has a full outfit of birches, that he has a tawse artfully hidden in innocent washleather, that scared confusion sets your benches abuzz, is but the outward show of the place and painted scenery to cause idle fears. Your father and mother went through all this in their day, and have lived to soothe my peaceful and serene old age. To that old age, for whatever space the Fates shall grant in the still coming years, do you, who bear your grandfather's name, my first-born grandson, with your first-born powers, afford the joy that springs from achievement or from promise. Now I see you a boy, soon shall I see you in years of youth, and by and by a man, if Chance so bid; or if this be grudged, yet will I hope — nor shall my prayers grow weary — that, not unmindful of your father and myself, you may ever strive to win through eloquence the hard-won prizes of the Muses, and some day tread this path wherein I have gone before and your father, the proconsul, and your uncle the prefect now press on.

Read thoroughly whatever is worth remembering: I will give you some first hints. You must open the pages of the Iliad's creator, study the works of lovable Menander: with modulation and with stress of voice bring out "measureless measures" with a scholar's accent, and infuse expression as you read. Punctuation enforces the meaning, and pauses give strength even to dull passages.

Ah, when shall these gifts reward mine old age? When shall those many poems by me forgot, those many links in the chain of history through the ages, those comedies, royal tragedies, and strains melic and lyric by thine utterance be recalled? When wilt thou make an old man's clouded faculties grow youthful. With thee for guide, my grandson, once more may I dare to learn Flaccus' rhythmic strains and Maro's sonorous lines. Do thou, too, Terence, who with thy choice speech adornest Latium, and with well-fitting sock trippest o'er our stage, compel my scarce-remembering age to new delight in thy dialogues. Now, Catiline, thy monstrous plot, now Lepidus' sedition, now from the year of Lepidus and Catulus the fortunes and vicissitudes of Rome do I commence and trace their sequence through twice six years. Now read I of that war, not free from civil strife, which banished Sertorius stirred up with the aid of his Iberian allies.

And not without skill do I, thy grandfather, counsel thee thus, but from the experience gained in training a thousand minds. Many from their infant years have I myself brought up, and, cherishing them in ray bosom and hushing their complaints, have stolen their tender years from their fond nurses. Presently, as boys, with mild warnings and gentle threats I lured them to seek through sourness for ripe success and pluck sweet fruit sprung from a bitter root. I, too, when they assumed manhood's garb and reached their vigorous prime, led them on towards good living and sound learning and forceful speaking, even though they refused to bear the yoke of command upon their necks and submitted not their mouths to the jagged bits thrust upon them. Hard the control, rough the experience, scanty the result when viewed after long practice, to govern headstrong youth with mild correction I These toils did I endure until— when now my pains were becoming pleasant and kindly Custom was lightening my toil through use — until, invoked to the sacred task of an Emperor's instruction, I am exalted and compassed about with honours manifold, what time the golden Palace was bidden to obey me. Let Nemesis hold aloof, and may Fortune bear with my light speaking: I held sway o'er the Empire, while a schoolboy endowed with purple, sceptre, throne, submitted himself to a tutor's laws, and Augustus held my dignity above his own. That dignity in due time, when grown to manhood, he advanced to dizzy heights, so that I was created Quaestor by the Augusti, father and sou; so that a two-fold prefecture and curule chair were mine; so that, for my reward, as consul was I invested with the purple robe and the embroidered toga, and was held pre-eminent in the annals of my year.

Thus have I gained all possible advantage for my grandchild, thy consul-grandfather, and shine forth the beacon of thy life. Even though, long since distinguished even through thy father's fame, thou mightst seem graced, mightst seem laden; yet from me thou hast gained signal renown besides. This render thou no load, but by thine own efforts struggle to climb on high and hope for thine own insignia, thine own consulate.