For nothing is better fitted to interest a reader than variety of circumstance and vicissitudes of fortune,which,though the reverse of welcome to us in actual experience,will make very pleasant reading:for the untroubled recollection of a past sorrow has a charm of its own.To the rest of the world,indeed,who have had no trouble themselves,and who look upon the misfortunes of others without any suffering of their own,the feeling of pity is itself a source of pleasure.For what man of us is not delighted,though feeling a certain compassion too,with the death-scene of Epaminondas at Mantinea?He,you know,did not allow the dart to be drawn from his body until he had been told,in answer to his question,that his shield was safe,so that in spite of the agony of his wound he died calmly and with glory.Whose interest is not roused and sustained by the banishment and return of Themistocles?Truly the mere chronological record of the annals has very little charm for us--little more than the entries in the fasti:but the doubtful and varied fortunes of a man,frequently of eminent character,involve feelings of wonder,suspense,joy,sorrow,hope,fear:if these fortunes are crowned with a glorious death,the imagination is satisfied with the most fascinating delight which reading can give.
Therefore it will be more in accordance with my wishes if you come to the resolution to separate from the main body of your narrative,in which you embrace a continuance history of events,what I may call the drama of my actions and fortunes:for it includes varied acts,and shifting scenes both of policy and circumstance.Nor am I afraid of appearing to lay snares for your favour by flattering suggestions,when I declare that Idesire to be complimented and mentioned with praise by you above all other writers.For you are not the man to be ignorant of your own powers,or not to be sure that those who withhold their admiration of you are more to be accounted jealous,than those who praise you flatterers.Nor,again,am I so senseless as to wish to be consecrated to an eternity of fame by one who,in so consecrating me,does not also gain for himself the glory which rightfully belongs to genius.For the famous Alexander himself did not wish to be painted by Apelles,and to have his statue made by Lysippus above all others,merely from personal favour to them,but because he thought that their art would be a glory at once to them and to himself.And,indeed,those artists used to make images of the person known to strangers:but if such had never existed,illustrious men would yet be no less illustrious.The Spartan Agesilaus,who would not allow a portrait of himself to be painted or a statue made,deserves to be quoted as an example quite as much as those who have taken trouble about such representations:for a single pamphlet of Xenophon's in praise of that king has proved much more effective than all the portraits and statues of them all,And,moreover,it will more redound to my present exultation and the honour of my memory to have found my way into your history,than if I had done so into that of others,in this,that I shall profit not only by the genius of the writer--as Timoleon did by that of Timaeus,Themistocles by that of Herodotus--but also by the authority of a man of a most illustrious and well-established character,and one well known and of the first repute for his conduct in the most important and weighty matters of state;so that I shall seem to have gained not only the fame which Alexander on his visit to Sigeum said had been bestowed on Achilles by Homer,but also the weighty testimony of a great and illustrious man.For I like that saying of Hector in Naevius,who not only rejoices that he is "praised,"but adds,"and by one who has himself been praised."But if I fail to obtain my request from you,which is equivalent to saying,if you are by some means prevented--for I hold it to be out of the question that you would refuse a request of mine--I shall perhaps be forced to do what certain persons have often found fault with,write my own panegyric,a thing,after all,which has a precedent of many illustrious men.But it will not escape your notice that there are the following drawbacks in a composition of that sort:men are bound,when writing of themselves,both to speak with greater reserve of what is praiseworthy,and to omit what calls for blame.Added to which such writing carries less conviction,less weight;many people,in fine,carp at it,and say that the heralds at the public games are more modest,far after having placed garlands on the other recipients and proclaimed their names in a loud voice,when their own turn comes to be presented with a garland before the games break up,they call in the services of another herald,that they may not declare themselves victors with their own voice.Iwish to avoid all this,and,if you undertake my cause,I shall avoid it:and,accordingly,I ask you this favour.But why,you may well ask,when you have already often assured me that yOu intended to record in your book with the utmost minuteness the policy and events of my consulship,do I now make this request to you with such earnestness and in so many words?The reason is to be found in that burning desire,of which I spoke at the beginning of my letter,for something prompt:because I am in a flutter of impatience,both that men should learn what I am from your book,while I am still alive,and that I may myself in my lifetime have the full enjoyment of my little bit of glory.What you intend doing on this subject I should like you to write me word,if not troublesome to you.For if you do undertake the subject,I will put together sonic notes of all occurrences:but if you put me off to some future time,I will talk the matter over with you.Meanwhile,do not relax your efforts,and thoroughly polish what you have already on the stocks,and--continue to love me.
