XI

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Literary translation
§ 11.1
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Your friend, a young man of good character, has spoken with me, and our very first conversation showed how much spirit he has, how much ability, and already how much progress. He gave us a sample to which he will live up; for he did not speak from preparation, but was caught unexpectedly. When he was collecting himself, he could scarcely shake off his embarrassment, a good sign in a young man; so deeply had the blush risen in him. This, I suspect, will follow him even when he has strengthened himself, cast off every fault, and become a wise man. For no wisdom removes the natural peculiarities of body or mind: whatever is deeply fixed and inborn is softened by discipline, not conquered.
§ 11.2
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Even in some of the most self-possessed people, sweat breaks out in public just as it usually does in those who are exhausted and overheated; some people's knees tremble when they are about to speak, some people's teeth chatter, their tongue falters, their lips stumble over one another. Neither training nor practice ever drives these things out; nature exerts her own force and, through that weakness of hers, reminds even the strongest of her power.
§ 11.3
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I know that blushing belongs among these things as well, for it suddenly spreads even over men of the greatest dignity. It appears more often, certainly, in the young, who have both more bodily heat and a more sensitive brow; nevertheless, it touches veterans and old men too. Some men are never more to be feared than when they have blushed, as though they had poured out all their sense of shame.
§ 11.4
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Sulla was at his most violent when blood had rushed into his face. Nothing was gentler than Pompey's expression; he invariably blushed in the presence of a crowd, especially at public assemblies. I remember that Fabianus blushed when he was brought into the Senate as a witness, and on that occasion his embarrassment suited him remarkably well.
§ 11.5
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This does not happen from weakness of mind but from the unfamiliarity of the situation, which affects those who are unpracticed, even if it does not shake them, when by a natural responsiveness of the body they are prone to it; for just as some people have good blood, so others have blood that is easily stirred, quick to move, and quick to rise into the face.
§ 11.6
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These things, as I have said, no wisdom drives away; otherwise wisdom would have the nature of things under its command, if it could erase every defect. Whatever the conditions of birth and the constitution of the body have assigned will remain, even after the mind has long and thoroughly brought itself under control; none of these things can be prevented, any more than they can be summoned at will.
§ 11.7
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Stage actors, who imitate emotions, who portray fear and trembling, who represent sadness, imitate embarrassment by this sign. They lower their faces, soften their voices, fix their eyes on the ground and cast them down; but they cannot produce a blush in themselves. It can neither be prevented nor summoned. Wisdom promises nothing against such things and accomplishes nothing: they are under their own law, coming unbidden and departing unbidden.
§ 11.8
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Now the letter calls for its closing thought. Take this one, useful and wholesome indeed, which I want you to fasten in your mind: 'We should choose some good man to love and always keep before our eyes, so that we may live as though he were watching us and do everything as though he could see it.'
§ 11.9
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This, my Lucilius, Epicurus prescribed; he gave us a guardian and a tutor, and not without reason: a great part of wrongdoing is removed if a witness stands beside those who are about to sin. Let the mind have someone whom it reveres, by whose authority it may make even its private life more sacred. Happy is the man who improves us not only by being present but even when merely thought of! Happy is the man who can revere someone so deeply that even at the memory of him he composes and orders himself! The man who can revere someone in this way will soon himself be worthy of reverence.
§ 11.10
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Choose Cato, then; if he seems too stern for you, choose Laelius, a man of gentler disposition. Choose someone whose life and speech have pleased you, and whose very face displays the character within him; always set him before yourself either as a guardian or as an example. We need, I say, someone by whose standard our conduct may measure itself: you will not straighten what is crooked unless you use a rule. Farewell.