Natural History

And the book acts as an index to the thirty-six following books, containing the completion of the entire work and the titles.

CAIUS PLINIUS TO HIS TACITUS, GREETINGS.

You ask that I write to you about my uncle's death, so that you may relate it more truthfully to posterity. I give you thanks. For I see that if his death is celebrated by you, an immortal glory is proposed for him. Although he perished in a most beautiful calamity of the lands, as peoples and cities fell in a memorable disaster, as if he were to live forever, and although he himself wrote many things, the eternity of your writings will add more to his immortality. I certainly consider those blessed to whom it has been given by the gift of the gods either to do things worthy of being written, or to write things worthy of being read. But those who have done both are the most blessed. My uncle will be in the number of these, both by his own books and by yours. Therefore, I the more willingly undertake what you enjoin. He was at Misenum, and was present in command of the fleet. On the ninth day before the Kalends of September August 24th, about the seventh hour, my mother indicates to him that a cloud of unusual size and appearance was appearing. He had enjoyed the sun, then a cold bath, and had eaten while reclining, and was studying. He asked for his sandals and climbed to a place from which that miracle could be best observed. A cloud was rising, from which mountain it was not certain from a distance (it was later known to be Vesuvius), the likeness and form of which no other tree could express better than a pine. For it rose up with a very long trunk, and spread out into certain branches. I believe that it was carried up by a fresh blast, then abandoned when it grew weak, so that it vanished in height, overcome by its own weight: sometimes white, sometimes dirty and spotted, as it had carried up earth or ash. It seemed great and worthy of being investigated more closely to a very learned man. He orders a light galley to be made ready. He gives me the opportunity if I should wish to come with him. I replied that I preferred to study, and by chance he himself had given me something to write. He was departing from the house; he received a letter. The sailors of Retina, terrified by the imminent danger (for it lay below, and there was no flight except by ships), begged that he rescue them from such a great crisis. He changes his plan, and what he had begun with a studious spirit, he carries out with a greater one. He launches the quadrirèmes; he embarks himself, not keeping to the course. But he was going to where many were fleeing, for the area was pleasant. He hurries to bring aid. Others flee in terror. He holds his course and his helm straight into the danger. He was so free from fear that he dictated and noted all the movements of that evil, all its shapes, as he had perceived them with his eyes. Already ash was falling on the ships, the closer they approached, the hotter and thicker. Already pumice stones and black stones, burnt and broken by fire. Already there was a sudden shallow, and the shore blocked by the ruin of the mountain. He hesitated a little whether to turn back, then to the pilot who was advising him to do so, he said: "Fortune favors the brave. Make for Pomponianus." He was at Stabiae, the distance separated by a middle bay. For the sea is pushed back upon the curved and troubled shores. There, while the danger was not yet close, but clearly visible, and as it grew, it was nearby, he had loaded his baggage onto ships, intent on flight if the contrary wind should subside. To this place my uncle was carried, and he comforted the trembling man, urging him to calm his fear with his own composure. He orders himself to be taken into the bath, bathed, dined, and was cheerful, or what is equally great, similar to cheerful. Meanwhile, in many places on Mount Vesuvius, broad flames were shining out, the light and darkness of which were highlighted by the shadows of the night. To remedy his fear, he was saying that the fires were the deserted villas of the country people left by them in their panic. Then he gave himself to rest, and slept a very sound sleep. For his breathing, which for him was heavier and louder due to the size of his body, was heard by those who were watching at the door. But the courtyard from which the bedchamber was reached had already filled with a mixture of ash and pumice, so that if he had stayed longer in the bedroom, the exit would have been blocked. Being awakened, he proceeds and returns to Pomponianus and the others who had been keeping watch. They deliberate together whether to remain inside the house or wander in the open. For the houses were shaking with frequent and vast tremors, and were seen to move from their foundations, now here, now there, or to be carried back. In the open, on the other hand, the fall of light and porous pumice was feared, yet when comparing the evils, this was chosen; and with him, indeed, a reason won over a reason, with others a fear won over a fear. They put pillows on their heads and tied them with linen. This was their protection against falling objects. Elsewhere it was day, there it was a night darker and thicker than all nights, which, however, many torches and various lights relieved. It pleased them to go out onto the shore and see from close by whether the sea would now admit them, but it remained still vast and contrary. There, lying down on a spread linen, he asked for cold water once and again, and drank. Then the flames and the smell of sulfur, the herald of the flames, put others to flight and awaken him. Leaning on two slaves, he stood up and immediately fell. As I conjecture, his breathing was obstructed by the thicker mist, and his windpipe was closed, which in him was naturally weak and narrow and frequently inflamed. When the day was returned, the third from the one he had last seen, his body was found, whole, unharmed, and dressed as he had been. The appearance of his body was more like a person resting than one dead. Meanwhile, I and my mother... but that is nothing to the history. And you ask for nothing else than about his death. Therefore, I will make an end. One thing I will add: all those things in which he had been present, which he had heard immediately, when truth is most remembered. You will excerpt those things most importantly. It is one thing to write a letter, another to write a history; one thing to write to a friend, another to write to everyone. Farewell.

ITEM FROM TERTULLIAN IN THE APOLOGETICUS.

Pliny Secundus, when he was governing a certain province and was killing many Christians in his magistracy, terrified by the multitude of them, inquired of Trajan what ought to be done, reporting that besides their stubbornness in sacrificing and their gatherings before dawn to sing...