that such was the force of his natural goodness that no one suspected his behaviour, as though it were due to art or simulation.  Speaking of flattery, in his fourth book of Natural Questions, he says to his friend Lucilius, “I used to say to you that my brother Gallio (whom every one loves a little, even people who cannot love him more) was wholly ignorant of other vices, but even detested this.  You might try him in any direction.  You began to praise his intellect—­an intellect of the highest and worthiest kind,... and he walked away!  You began to praise his moderation, he instantly cut short your first words.  You began to express admiration for his blandness and natural suavity of manner,... yet even here he resisted your compliments; and if you were led to exclaim that you had found a man who could not be overcome by those insidious attacks which every one else admits, and hoped that he would at least tolerate this compliment because of its truth, even on this ground he would resist your flattery; not as though you had been awkward, or as though he suspected that you were jesting with him, or had some secret end in view, but simply because he had a horror of every form of adulation.”  We can easily imagine that Gallio was Seneca’s favorite brother, and we are not surprised to find that the philosopher dedicates to him his three books on Anger, and his charming little treatise “On a Happy Life.”

Of the third brother, L. Annaeus Mela, we have fewer notices; but, from what we know, we should conjecture that his character no less than his reputation was inferior to that of his brothers; yet he seems to have been the favorite of his father, who distinctly asserts that his intellect was capable of every excellence, and superior to that of his brothers.[4] This, however, may have been because Mela, “longing only to long for nothing,” was content with his father’s rank, and devoted himself wholly to the study of eloquence.  Instead of entering into public life, he deliberately withdrew himself from all civil duties, and devoted himself to tranquility and ease.  Apparently he preferred to be a farmer-general (publicanus) and not a consul.  His chief fame rests in the fact that he was father of Lucan, the poet of the decadence or declining literature of Rome.  The only anecdote about him which has come down to us is one that sets his avarice in a very unfavourable light.  When his famous son, the unhappy poet, had forfeited his life, as well as covered himself with infamy by denouncing his own mother Attila in the conspiracy of Piso, Mela, instead of being overwhelmed with shame and agony, immediately began to collect with indecent avidity his son’s debts, as though to show Nero that he felt no great sorrow for his bereavement.  But this was not enough for Nero’s malice; he told Mela that he must follow his son, and Mela was forced to obey the order, and to die.

[Footnote 4:  M. Ann.  Senec. Controv. ii. Praef.]