Seneca · a new plain-English translation from the Latin
[1] I swear, I do want your friend shaped and trained as you wish, but he's proving very hard to take hold of — or rather, what's more troubling, he's very soft, and yet broken by a bad habit long indulged. Let me give you an illustration from our own craft. [2] Not every vine can bear grafting: if it's old and rotted through, or weak and thin, it will either refuse the graft or fail to nourish it, won't bond it to itself, won't come to share its quality and nature. So we're accustomed to cut it above ground, so that if it doesn't respond, a second chance can be tried and the graft inserted again below ground. [3] This man you write and ask about doesn't have the strength: he has indulged his vices. He has withered and hardened at the same time; he cannot take in reason, cannot nourish it. 'But he himself wants it.' Don't believe it. I'm not saying he's lying to you: he thinks he wants it. Excess has given him a bout of nausea; he'll be back on good terms with it soon enough. [4] 'But he says he's disgusted with his own life.' I wouldn't deny it — who isn't? People both love and hate their vices at once. So we'll pass judgment on him only once he's convinced us that excess has truly become hateful to him; right now the two are on poor terms, but they still get along. Farewell.