Chapter 14

46 “For the pleasure of conversation I delight even in dinners that begin early, not only with men of my own age, of whom very few remain, but with men of your years and with you yourselves. I am deeply grateful to old age for increasing my appetite for conversation while taking away my appetite for food and drink. But if anyone still delights in those things—for I would not seem to have declared outright war on pleasure, which may perhaps have some natural limit—I do not see that old age is insensible even to these pleasures. I enjoy the presidency of the table instituted by our ancestors, the conversation begun over the cup, according to ancestral custom, by the guest at the head of the table, the little cups that sprinkle us like dew, as in Xenophon’s Symposium, coolness in summer, and in winter sunshine or a fire. I keep up these practices on my Sabine estate as well, gathering my neighbors daily for a dinner that we prolong far into the night with as varied a conversation as we can.”

47 “But old men do not feel pleasure’s tickling so keenly. Granted; but neither do they feel the longing. What you do not desire cannot trouble you. Sophocles answered well when someone asked him, already well advanced in years, whether he still enjoyed sexual pleasures. ‘May the gods spare me!’ he said. ‘I have escaped from them as from a savage and raging master.’ For those who crave such things, deprivation may be hateful and distressing; for those who have had their fill, it is sweeter to be without them than to enjoy them. Yet a man who feels no desire is not deprived: what I call sweeter, then, is the absence of desire.”

48 “And if life’s prime enjoys these pleasures more eagerly, first, as we have said, they are small things to enjoy; and second, old age is not wholly without them, even if it does not possess them in abundance. Just as a spectator in the front rows takes greater delight in Turpio Ambivius, yet the man in the back rows enjoys him too, so youth, viewing pleasures close at hand, may perhaps rejoice in them more, but old age too, watching from a distance, takes as much delight as it needs.”

49 “But how precious it is for the mind, having served its time in the campaigns of lust and ambition, rivalry and enmity, and every passion, to be with itself and, as they say, to live with itself! If it has, besides, some nourishment of study and learning, nothing is more delightful than a leisured old age. We used to see Gallus, a friend of your father’s, Scipio, absorbed in the task of measuring, one might say, heaven and earth. How often dawn overtook him at a diagram begun during the night, and night at one begun in the morning! How he delighted in predicting eclipses of the sun and moon long in advance!”

50 “And what of lighter studies, which still require a keen mind? How Naevius rejoiced in his Punic War, and Plautus in his Truculentus and Pseudolus! I even saw Livius as an old man. He had produced a play in the consulship of Cento and Tuditanus, six years before I was born, and lived on into my youth.

“Why speak of Publius Licinius Crassus’s devotion to pontifical and civil law, or of the same studies in this Publius Scipio, who became chief pontiff only a few days ago? We have seen all the men I have named burning with enthusiasm for their studies in old age. And with what zeal we used to see Marcus Cethegus practicing oratory even when old—he whom Ennius rightly called ‘the marrow of Persuasion’! What pleasures of feasts, games, or prostitutes could compare with these? These are the pursuits of learning, which in prudent and well-educated men grow along with their years. So Solon’s words are honorable when, as I said earlier, he declares in a little verse that he grows old learning much each day. Surely no pleasure of the mind can be greater.”

46 “For my part, I enjoy even dinners that begin early, because I enjoy the conversation. My dinner companions include you and other people of your generation, as well as the few survivors of my own. Getting old has given me much to be grateful for. It has increased my appetite for conversation and taken away my appetite for food and drink. Still, suppose someone continues to enjoy those things. I do not want to seem to have declared total war on pleasure, which may have a natural limit of its own. I see no reason to think old age has lost all feeling even for these pleasures. I myself enjoy the custom our ancestors established of choosing someone to direct the drinking. I enjoy the conversation that, following their custom, begins with the person in the highest place as the cup goes around. I also enjoy small cups that sprinkle us with a little wine, as Xenophon describes in his Symposium, and coolness in summer, and, in their turn, sunshine or a fire in winter. I regularly seek these pleasures even in the Sabine country. Every day I fill out a dinner party with my neighbors, and we keep it going far into the night with as much varied conversation as we can.”

47 “‘But pleasures do not give old people the same sort of tingle.’ I agree. But neither do old people feel the same longing for them. And nothing you do not miss can trouble you by its absence. Sophocles gave a good answer when someone asked him, in his advanced old age, whether he still enjoyed sex. ‘The gods spare me that!’ was his reply. ‘I got away from it as one gets free of a harsh and furious master.’ People who crave such things may find it hateful and distressing to go without them. But for people who have had their fill, going without is more pleasant than taking part. Strictly speaking, someone who does not want something is not deprived of it. So my point is that not wanting it is more pleasant.”

48 “Even if people in their prime enjoy these very pleasures more eagerly, first, as I have said, the things they enjoy are of little importance. Second, they are pleasures that old age does not entirely lack, even if it does not have them in abundance. Someone watching Ambivius Turpio from the front rows of the theater enjoys him more, but someone in the back rows enjoys him too. In the same way, youth may take greater delight in pleasures because it sees them close up. But old age, watching them from a distance, also enjoys them—as much as it needs.”

49 “And how valuable these other things are! The mind has, so to speak, finished its military service under sexual desire, ambition, rivalries, feuds, and every kind of craving. It can be with itself and, as the saying goes, live with itself. If it also has study and learning to feed on, nothing is more pleasant than an old age free from public duties. Scipio, we used to see Gallus, your father’s friend, absorbed in his efforts to measure almost the whole of heaven and earth. How often daylight caught him still working on a diagram he had begun at night! How often night overtook him at work he had started in the morning! How he enjoyed telling us about eclipses of the sun and moon long before they happened!”

50 “And what about studies that are less serious but still call for a sharp mind? How Naevius enjoyed his Punic War! How Plautus enjoyed his Truculentus and his Pseudolus! I also saw Livius in his later years. A play of his had been staged six years before my birth, when Cento and Tuditanus were consuls, and he lived on into my youth.

“Why should I speak of Publius Licinius Crassus and his devotion to religious and civil law? Or of this Publius Scipio, who became chief priest just a few days ago? We saw all the men I have mentioned still burning with enthusiasm for these studies in their old age. And Marcus Cethegus, whom Ennius rightly called ‘the heart of Persuasion’—how eagerly we saw him practice public speaking even when he was old! What pleasures from feasts, public shows, or prostitutes can compare with these pleasures? These are the pleasures of learning. In sensible, well-educated people, they grow along with age. So there is something noble in that little verse of Solon’s which I mentioned earlier. He says that he grows old learning many new things every day. Surely no pleasure of the mind can be greater than that.”